Song Yuzhang: Chapter 153 - Recuperate from One’s Injuries
Chapter 153: Recuperate from One’s Injuries
Song Yuzhang and Meng Tingjing were recuperating in the same hospital, on the same floor, not far from each other. Knowing that Meng Tingjing had more or less survived intact, Song Yuzhang had little to worry about and rested peacefully in his room. Meng Tingjing, however, couldn’t lie still. Time and again, he asked the family guards to push him over to see Song Yuzhang. The guards were caught in a bind, just as Meng Sushan arrived.
“You’re injured like this—can’t you just lie still and recover properly?” Meng Sushan said, both angry and heartbroken.
“If I can’t see him, my heart won’t settle. I can’t lie here and heal.”
In truth, the two of them had been trapped for less than thirty hours, but to Meng Tingjing it felt far longer. Now that he couldn’t see Song Yuzhang, his heart raced uncontrollably—it was genuine panic.
Meng Sushan knew that Meng Tingjing was not the sort to speak glibly or sweetly. She sighed and said, “All right. I’ll go ask the doctor and see if the two of you can be put in the same room.”
“Thank you, Elder Sister.”
Meng Sushan stood up. Her eyes were still swollen and red, and she sighed again, her tone filled with the joy of surviving a calamity. “You really are something. You scared me half to death. From now on, I suppose everything will have to go your way.”
The doctor agreed, but Meng Sushan still needed Song Yuzhang’s consent.
“Yuzhang, is that all right?”
Seeing Meng Sushan’s pale face and reddened eyes, how could Song Yuzhang refuse? “I don’t mind.”
Meng Sushan thanked him happily and smiled, nodding as well to Nie Yinbing by the bedside. Nie Yinbing inclined his head slightly in return.
Soon, Meng Tingjing was moved into Song Yuzhang’s room. The nurses and doctors bustled about. Meng Tingjing, for his part, remained very quiet, letting them arrange him as they pleased, his eyes fixed the whole time on Song Yuzhang. Not only Meng Sushan—even the nurses and doctors felt a little embarrassed by the sight.
The explosion was a major incident, splashed across the newspapers day after day, full of speculation. But there was also a small piece of gossip that spread widely: it was said that the Chairman and Deputy Chairman, who looked utterly incompatible and at daggers drawn, had been buried under the rubble together, their hands clasped so tightly they couldn’t be pried apart.
To the young men and women of Haizhou who had been anxiously worried over Song Yuzhang, this gossip was nothing short of a bolt from the blue. Later, the story shifted again: supposedly their hands had been injured, the wounds stuck together. The youths were somewhat reassured—hoping the Chairman’s hand would heal quickly, and as for the Deputy Chairman, it would be best if he stayed wherever was coolest and farthest away.
Meng Tingjing felt that the coolest, most comfortable place in the world was right beside Song Yuzhang. He hadn’t believed much in willpower before, but now, covered in injuries, seeing Song Yuzhang lying not far away with all his limbs intact, the pain in his own body truly didn’t feel so unbearable.
“All right, now I can finally be at ease,” Meng Sushan said, standing at the foot of the bed, smiling toward Song Yuzhang. “Yuzhang, I’m really sorry to disturb your recuperation. Second Master Nie, when I’m not around, I’ll have to trouble you to help out more.”
Nie Yinbing nodded.
“Thank you as well,” Meng Tingjing spoke up. His throat was injured and a little sore, but with Song Yuzhang beside him, that bit of pain was easy to ignore. “Second Master Nie, I’ve heard you helped a great deal. I sincerely thank you for saving my life.”
Nie Yinbing replied calmly, “No need to thank me. I wasn’t trying to save you.”
Meng Sushan’s expression immediately became complicated.
Meng Tingjing said evenly, “I know. Even so, I still ought to thank you—consider it that I benefited from Yuzhang’s good fortune.”
Meng Sushan’s expression grew even harder to describe. She looked awkwardly back and forth between the three of them and suddenly understood something.
She regretted a little having Meng Tingjing moved into Song Yuzhang’s room. With Meng Tingjing’s temperament, it wouldn’t be surprising if he worked himself into anger during recuperation.
But the beds had already been moved, and it wouldn’t do to go back on it now. Meng Sushan cautiously observed Meng Tingjing. His expression was calm, even peaceful, with no sign of anger as he looked at Song Yuzhang.
Before long, Meng Sushan left first. The docks couldn’t be left unattended, and the Chamber of Commerce was in chaos. She usually appeared the picture of a virtuous wife and mother, but in truth, she was every bit the equal of any man. With Meng Tingjing unable to take charge, she would have to step in.
Nie Yinbing left as well. He too had matters to attend to—investigating the culprit behind the explosion. The armaments factory and the mines couldn’t stop operating. In truth, both the factory and the mines were of little importance to him personally, but he felt there was little point in staying at the hospital.
Song Yuzhang didn’t need him.
Only Song Yuzhang and Meng Tingjing remained in the room. Song Yuzhang turned his head slightly away.
Meng Tingjing was lying on his side, looking at him. When their eyes met, Meng Tingjing said, “At last, I get to see you.”
Song Yuzhang said nothing.
Meng Tingjing gazed at him for a long while, then suddenly smiled. Without warning, a single tear rolled out of his eye.
Song Yuzhang’s expression shifted slightly. “Tingjing…”
“I’m fine,” Meng Tingjing said instinctively, rubbing the corner of his eye against the pillow. “I’m just too happy. Thank goodness you’re all right. We’re all right.”
Song Yuzhang still felt a little dazed, as though this brush with death was much like all the others.
It wasn’t his first time clawing his way back from the brink. He was moved, but not deeply so. Since he was alive, there was little reason for excessive sentiment. What he most wanted to know now was who had done this, and why they had struck so ruthlessly.
The police were still investigating, and it was said there were no leads.
Not surprising. If a bunch of incompetents could uncover anything, that would be a miracle.
If he weren’t injured, Song Yuzhang would have wanted to investigate personally.
Who could it be?
He turned his face toward the ceiling. “Last time you said running an arm factory was dangerous. Could it be someone attacked us because of that?”
Meng Tingjing had been watching Song Yuzhang with tender intensity. Caught off guard by such a serious question, he took a moment to react, then said, “Unlikely. If they wanted to strike, wouldn’t it be easier to just blow up the factory?”
“The factory is heavily guarded. The Chamber of Commerce has people going in and out—it’s easier to act there.”
“That makes sense, too. But I just came back with an official order from the government. I doubt they’d be so bold as to openly go against the authorities.”
Song Yuzhang hummed in agreement. “That makes sense as well.”
Meng Tingjing smiled faintly. “Does it?”
Song Yuzhang turned his head. Meng Tingjing had a few abrasions on his face, and his complexion was still pale from blood loss, yet his eyes were exceptionally bright and alert. He looked to be in rather good spirits.
Song Yuzhang said, “When you thanked Yinbing just now—were you sincere, or were you being sarcastic?”
Meng Tingjing replied, “Sincere.”
“I admit I used to find everyone from the Nie family unpleasant to the eye, and that was because… ah, forget it, I was in the wrong. No need to bring it up. Nie Yinbing saved you, and he saved me, too. Is it so wrong that I should thank him?”
Song Yuzhang’s eyelashes fluttered slightly. What had surprised him most about the explosion was that, beneath the rubble, Meng Tingjing had comforted him by saying that Nie Yinbing would come to save him.
He had thought that with Meng Tingjing’s temperament, even if he were about to die, he would grit his teeth and insist that he himself would get Song Yuzhang out—he would never mention someone else, let alone use Nie Yinbing to comfort him.
“Does it hurt?” Meng Tingjing asked when he saw that Song Yuzhang wasn’t speaking.
“Of course it hurts—I’m not made of iron,” Song Yuzhang said with a self-mocking smile. “I didn’t expect two broken ribs to hurt this much.”
The main issue was the lung injury. The doctor had said his luck was exceptionally good—if the broken ribs had pierced his lung more severely, and he’d been trapped down there that long, even an immortal couldn’t have saved him.
“When I’m a bit better, I’ll personally go catch the culprit behind the explosion,” Meng Tingjing said with a grim face. “The Haizhou police are a bunch of useless drunkards. They can’t get anything done.”
Song Yuzhang said, “I’m just afraid the culprit has already been silenced.”
“That’s possible.”
“Forget it, don’t think about it for now. Just focus on recovering. You’re more seriously injured than I am.”
“Seriously injured? It’s just a few minor wounds. Back when I was at Cambridge and got into fights, I was hurt far worse than this.”
Song Yuzhang snorted. “You don’t even have many scars on you.”
Hearing that, Meng Tingjing couldn’t help laughing. “I didn’t bring this up first. You remember how many scars I have on my body?”
Song Yuzhang said leisurely, “I have a photographic memory for anyone’s naked body.”
Meng Tingjing was left speechless. After a long pause, he squeezed out, “Then you really do have a good memory.” For some reason, that amused Song Yuzhang, who laughed nonstop, making Meng Tingjing worry. “Your injury is in your lungs—don’t laugh.”
Song Yuzhang laughed as he breathed out, then turned his face away again, his expression soft and faintly luminous. “Tingjing.”
“Hm?”
“I… take back what I said.”
“Which sentence?”
Song Yuzhang smiled. “Figure it out yourself.”
Meng Tingjing had a remarkable memory—since meeting Song Yuzhang, he could recall their every word with striking clarity. Thinking it over carefully, he realized Song Yuzhang had said quite a few “unkind” things to him. Which one he was taking back was hard to tell. But since it was being taken back, it had to be a good thing. Meng Tingjing smiled calmly and copied him. “Then I’ll take back what I said too.”
Song Yuzhang gave a soft laugh. “The one where you said ‘I love you’?”
Meng Tingjing’s face flushed slightly. “I didn’t say that so you could tease me with it all the time.”
“Once the words are out, how I use them is my business.”
“……”
Meng Tingjing turned his head away and looked at the ceiling as well. Both his hands were injured; he couldn’t even press a hand to his chest. Understanding was understanding, acceptance was acceptance—but Song Yuzhang really was infuriating!
After a week of recuperation, Song Yuzhang’s condition was much better than Meng Tingjing’s. He could already get out of bed and take care of himself. Meng Tingjing was still half-paralyzed, needing a whole group of people to attend to him. The burns on his back, in particular, required dressing changes every other day. Each time, Meng Tingjing had the curtain drawn so Song Yuzhang wouldn’t see.
From behind the curtain, Song Yuzhang only saw the busy backs of everyone at work. When the curtain was pulled open, Meng Tingjing would once again be lying on his side as if nothing were wrong, facing him. But seeing the sweat at Meng Tingjing’s temples, Song Yuzhang knew it must have hurt badly.
“If it hurts, just shout,” Song Yuzhang said slowly as he sat up after the doctors left. “I won’t laugh at you.”
Meng Tingjing smiled. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”
“If you want to play the tough guy, go ahead. I won’t stop you.”
“That’s not right. I am a tough guy. What do you mean, ‘play’?”
“You? A tough guy?”
Song Yuzhang shook his head repeatedly, then said solemnly, “You’re a pretty boy.”
Meng Tingjing laughed in spite of himself. “A pretty boy?”
“Don’t you feel it when you look in the mirror every morning?” Song Yuzhang said.
Meng Tingjing replied, “No matter when I look in the mirror, I never feel like a pretty boy. And if I am one, then you’re about the same!”
“Ridiculous. With my dignified looks, how could I be a pretty boy?”
“Aren’t you pale? You’re pale all over—nothing but white and pink…”
“You’d better think about yourself before saying that. Aren’t you pink too?”
Meng Tingjing’s face flushed red, then slowly drained of color. Finally, he said calmly, “Didn’t you like it very much? You said the color was clean and pretty.”
Song Yuzhang laughed. “Yes, I liked it a lot. Back then, I liked pretty boys.”
Hearing him circle the topic back again, Meng Tingjing was about to argue when he suddenly caught the implication in Song Yuzhang’s words. He froze slightly. “Then what about now?”
“Now?” Song Yuzhang picked up his teacup, took a sip, and said leisurely, “Now I like tough guys.”
“What are you standing here for?”
Wan Lan was startled by the voice behind her. Turning around, she met Nie Yinbing’s cold gaze and quickly bowed. “Second Master Nie.”
Nie Yinbing was carrying a lunch pail; Wan Lan was holding a food box as well.
“The young master and Fifth Young Master are inside talking,” Wan Lan explained softly. “They seem to be having a good talk, so I thought I’d wait a bit before going in.”
Nie Yinbing leaned forward slightly.
The glass window reflected the scene inside the ward.
Song Yuzhang was sitting upright, facing Meng Tingjing; only his back was visible. Meng Tingjing lay on his side, his face full of smiles.
Nie Yinbing withdrew his gaze. He glanced at the food box in Wan Lan’s hands. “What’s inside?”
Wan Lan quickly opened it for inspection. “Second Master Nie, don’t worry. Everything’s been checked—absolutely safe. It’s all food Fifth Young Master likes. The young master doesn’t have any special preferences, so the kitchen focused entirely on what Fifth Young Master likes. It’s all to replenish qi and blood and help with recovery.”
Nie Yinbing gave a brief “Mm.” “Take it in.”
He turned to leave, but Wan Lan called after him again. “Then, Second Master Nie, the one you’re holding—”
“No need,” Nie Yinbing said sideways. “Don’t tell them I was here.”
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