Song Yuzhang: Chapter 183 - Crazy
Shen Chengduo wasn’t brainless. Of course, he wouldn’t say something like that in front of Meng Tingjing—that would be tantamount to admitting he had conspired with Fu Mian. Besides, with Meng Tingjing’s temper, once his anger flared, he would surely slap him twice across the face without another word.
Shen Chengduo’s gaze couldn’t help but cling to Song Yuzhang.
Song Yuzhang’s bearing was far too carefree, far too beautiful.
To say he felt no lust would be a lie. Anyone who liked men could not possibly fail to like Song Yuzhang.
But right now, Shen Chengduo truly didn’t have the nerve.
Even if Song Yuzhang was now his prisoner, he still didn’t dare.
Though they say, “To die beneath the peony is to be a romantic ghost.”
Still, he wanted to live.
He had gone to such lengths not merely to satisfy that bit of lust.
He had already sent people to Ye City to intercept someone, but thinking of how his last attempt in East City had also failed, he really had little confidence.
For now, he was just waiting for Fu Mian to show himself, then divert the disaster eastward—let Fu Mian and Zhang Changshan fight it out.
As for Meng Tingjing, Shen Chengduo thought it best not to let that man get involved. Otherwise, things might not end well.
The ideal outcome was for Zhang Changshan and Fu Mian to wound each other. After all, ever since Song Yuzhang’s disappearance, Meng Tingjing had been somewhat depressed and half-mad, no longer managing affairs much. If things continued like this, Shen Chengduo’s dream of becoming the King of Haizhou might still be realized.
Song Yuzhang had been right about one thing: in a worst-case scenario, he still held Song Yuzhang as a card in his hand. Whether against Meng Tingjing, Fu Mian, or even Zhang Changshan, it would have considerable effect.
With such a card in hand, what was there to fear? What was there to rush?
Shen Chengduo suddenly understood why Fu Mian could conduct his tobacco business in Haizhou so calmly.
He could be calm too. He could sit back and fish at leisure.
Because he had Song Yuzhang.
Shen Chengduo left the basement feeling light all over.
The servant returned with Shen Chengduo’s refusal. Meng Tingjing sat in his seat and began to ponder.
Shen Chengduo’s refusal to come already spoke volumes.
For a long time now, Meng Tingjing had been throwing his weight around in Haizhou, venting his temper recklessly. Everyone knew he was even more irritable and difficult than before. Yet when he invited Shen Chengduo over, Shen Chengduo actually dared to slight him?
Mere guilt no longer seemed enough to explain it. By now, Meng Tingjing was certain that Song Yuzhang’s disappearance involved at least three people, and Shen Chengduo was one of them. If Shen Chengduo were guilty, he should have shown it long ago. For the past half year at the Chamber of Commerce, Shen Chengduo had always appeared perfectly at ease before him.
Either that—or the situation had changed.
The fire at the Fu residence might very well have been the result of internal strife among the three.
What was the fire meant to cover up?
Meng Tingjing rubbed the knuckles of his fingers with his thumb. He thought: Song Yuzhang might at this very moment be in the hands of Shen Chengduo and Zhang Changshan.
Things had become complicated. Excitement surged in Meng Tingjing’s heart again. He pressed down hard on his injured finger before managing to steady his rapid breathing.
In such a situation, whoever lost patience first would already have lost half the game.
Early that morning, Liao Tiandong was drinking tea and reading the newspaper in his office when a subordinate suddenly knocked and came in to report something.
After listening, Liao Tiandong frowned slightly. “I understand.”
The subordinate bowed faintly and left.
Liao Tiandong set down the paper and went to the window to look at the bustling traffic outside. He wondered what Zhang Changshan meant by suddenly raising the interest rate at Song’s Bank by one point. It wasn’t year-end yet. Though the vault hadn’t opened, there was no shortage of liquidity.
The one-point hike hadn’t caused much disturbance in Haizhou, but among ordinary people it stirred some murmurs.
Song’s Bank had always been a golden signboard among Haizhou’s banks, its strength obvious to all. Now that it had been taken over by the government, it should theoretically be even more prosperous, backed by a mighty tree.
Nowadays, the legal tender depreciated every so often. People holding cash felt uneasy, afraid that what could buy rice today might only buy bran tomorrow. Saving money no longer seemed wise. But since the interest rate had risen somewhat, some cautiously deposited part of their spare cash.
The next day, when the bank opened, a notice was posted: the interest rate would rise another two points.
On the third day, it rose another three points.
Three consecutive jumps finally caused a huge uproar in Haizhou.
Song’s Bank’s nature had become rather peculiar. Was it a private bank? For now, no one was in charge, and it had been temporarily taken over by the government. Was it a government bank? The government seemed not to have interfered much; even the signboard remained unchanged, still bearing the four bold characters—“Song’s Bank.”
Before his death, Song Yuzhang had led the establishment of a private banking alliance in Haizhou. Many alliance members had died or been injured in the explosion case. Those who filled their places had often benefited from Song Yuzhang’s patronage while he was alive. Now, seeing this sudden drastic rate hike, they were shocked and confused, yet didn’t know whom to approach. A group of bankers gathered at the Chamber of Commerce, but they couldn’t come up with a leader.
Whom should they negotiate with? The interest rate was raised as if it were child’s play. They didn’t even know who was behind it. Even if they felt it improper, they had no idea what to do. After buzzing in discussion for half a day, they ultimately dispersed like scattered birds and beasts.
Song’s Bank had always been unpredictable. Whatever it intended, they would just watch.
Among the people, the effect was even more dramatic.
The interest rate was at a historic high, and for a very short term. Unprecedentedly, only one-month deposits were offered. According to the bank, this was to help people pass the New Year safely. The ultra-high one-month interest was a way for Song’s Bank to give back to the public and help resist the depreciation of legal tender. Miss this chance, and there would be no next shop.
At another bank, this might sound ridiculous. At Song’s Bank, somehow it made sense.
The bank’s reputation had peaked under the former President Song’s charisma. Though Song Yuzhang was dead, his prestige remained.
While others were still watching cautiously, a well-known wealthy merchant of Haizhou—the owner of Vienna—drove over and deposited several chests of money into Song’s Bank.
The crowd was completely ignited.
In the president’s office, Shen Chengduo sat facing Zhang Changshan. Zhang Chang’s eyes were bloodshot. He held a cup of strong tea and was smoking. “I’ll transport this money back to you later.”
Shen Chengduo said considerately, “That would be too conspicuous. Just leave the money here for now. It’s fine—I’m not in a hurry.”
The vault couldn’t be opened. The money brought in over the past two days was all piled up in what used to be Song Yuzhang’s office. For now, the legal tender still held steady. Zhang Changshan was recklessly absorbing legal tender while sending several trusted men, newly arrived in Haizhou, to convert it at all costs into U.S. dollars, silver dollars, gold—whatever could be exchanged. It didn’t matter how much value was lost in the process.
He wanted cash. A large sum of cash to save his younger brother’s life.
Zhang Changshan treated this office as his temporary command center, guarding the growing piles of dollars and gold without leaving.
Shen Chengduo lowered his head, concealing the greed in his eyes, and took a hard drag on his cigarette.
Zhang Changshan was going mad.
At this rate, in three to five days, the pockets of the entire population of Haizhou would be drained.
This was a plunder with no return.
Zhang Changshan was planning to flee.
As Shen Chengduo smoked, his thoughts spun rapidly. Why hadn’t Fu Mian appeared yet? Zhang Changshan must not escape like this.
With so much money—if only he could find a way to pocket it naturally… Shen Chengduo’s heart pounded in his throat, yet he remained calm on the surface. After a few casual remarks, he left the office. Turning back, he looked at the suitcases on the floor, his eyes gleaming as if drool might spill from them.
When people go mad, they truly disregard consequences. Step by step, Shen Chengduo left the bank and slipped into his car under the night sky. As he indulged in fantasies along the way, suddenly—bang!—the car jolted violently. With a screeching turn, it slammed into the alley entrance and stopped.
The alley opened onto the street; there were still many people around. Seeing the crash, they all turned to look.
Shen Chengduo felt a chill. “Get out and see what’s going on,” he told the bodyguard inside.
The bodyguard got out. As Shen bent to grab the gun at his waist—bang!—a bullet shot through the glass beside him and struck the bodyguard in the waist, knocking him face down onto the ground.
The gunshot rang out sharply in the night. The surrounding crowd screamed and scattered. Shen quickly crouched down, gripping his gun tightly, lying stiff in the car.
In what felt like a moment both brief and endless, a hot gun barrel pressed against the back of his head.
“Where is he?”
All the blood in Shen Chengduo’s body seemed to freeze. “Who?” he replied slowly.
Bang.
A shot immediately struck his arm.
The street was now eerily silent. The driver in front trembled, clutching his head, not daring to turn around.
“Where is he?”
The repeated voice was eerily calm. Enduring the searing pain in his arm, Shen gritted his teeth. “I don’t know. Zhang Changshan took him. He transferred his own men from South City. He only had me send people to Ye City to intercept you. I truly know nothing else. In his eyes, you and I are the same—just pawns. I really don’t know.”
The gun barrel, still hot from firing, pressed against the back of his ear. It felt like being branded with a hot iron. “I really don’t know. I only know Zhang Changshan has been guarding the bank. The bank is full of his men now. I truly don’t know anything else. Fu Mian—even if you kill me, I still…” The crisp sound of a gun being cocked reached his ears. Shen Chengduo’s heart leapt into his throat. Song Yuzhang’s face, the money in the bank, Zhang Changshan’s haggard expression—all flashed rapidly through his mind. In despair, he shouted, “I really don’t know—”
A whistle sounded in the distance. The gun barrel at his ear quietly withdrew. Shen Chengduo still didn’t dare move. He lay motionless in the car until the patrol police ran over and surrounded it. Only then did he breathe out in relief. When he was helped up, his shirt was soaked with sweat as if pulled from water.
The patrol officers were all familiar with him and quickly questioned and comforted him.
Shen Chengduo waved it off, saying he was fine. Escorted by a patrol car, he went to the hospital. After his arm and ear wound were treated, his face was pale from pain, but his spirits were high. He didn’t rest long. He wanted to return to Vienna, but fearing Fu Mian might still be following, he went back to his residence instead.
The moment he entered, he collapsed onto the sofa, a smile spreading across his face.
Fu Mian had finally lost patience.
Of course—he could wait, but Zhang Changshan could not. If this dragged on, Zhang Changshan would flee Haizhou.
Shen Chengduo burst into laughter.
He sincerely thanked Yeyang, thanked the person who had injured Zhang Changyuan. If not for that unexpected injury, how could Zhang Changshan have been driven nearly mad?
Zhang Changshan—after you die, I will put that enormous sum you frantically sucked in to very good use.
The more Shen Chengduo thought about it, the more delighted he felt, laughing until he coughed. One truly had to risk one’s life to reap great rewards. He must seize this rare opportunity.
While the mantis stalks the cicada, the oriole waits behind. Zhang Changshan and Fu Mian would both serve as stepping stones for him!
“Boss Meng,” Liao Tiandong held his breath. Under Meng Tingjing’s cold gaze, his limbs felt weak. “Please, you must save Haizhou.”
With trembling fingers, Liao Tiandong handed the letter from his chest to Meng Tingjing, his face pale. “President Song… he’s still alive.”
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