Song Yuzhang: Chapter 189 - Song Yuzhang’s Bank
“It happened very suddenly. Nancheng was the first to collapse; Haizhou, being quick with news, followed immediately.”
Inside the car, Liu Chu reported to Song Yuzhang. Quick-witted and meticulous, he sorted through the chaotic situation in Haizhou for him. Song Yuzhang sat beside Meng Tingjing in the cramped back seat; their hips and thighs pressed together, flesh against flesh, exchanging warmth. Suddenly Song Yuzhang’s hand was taken. He turned to look at Meng Tingjing, who was gazing at him deeply.
Song Yuzhang smiled faintly. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry too much.”
Only after murmuring an “Mm” did Liu Chu realize those words had been meant for Meng Tingjing.
Meng Tingjing gave a slight nod and lifted Song Yuzhang’s hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to it.
He was utterly unconcerned about appearances. Liu Chu, however, blushed at the sight, thinking Meng Tingjing truly had no shame—clinging to their president like this. No wonder the president favored him so much now.
The great victory at Yeyang was good news. But afterward, the government issued another massive round of fiat currency. The currency had already been unstable, falling from time to time; this time, it seemed to plunge without end.
After returning to Haizhou, Song Yuzhang discovered the situation was far more serious than Liu Chu had described.
Ordinary people panicked, rushing en masse to withdraw their deposits. With no other choice, the banks in Haizhou temporarily closed. Once the banks shut their doors, panic only spread further, spiraling completely out of control.
The Song Bank had already been closed for three days. Outside every bank, day and night, crowds packed the entrances, desperate to exchange money. In truth, even without the public pressure, the banks themselves were already on the brink—holding massive reserves of rapidly depreciating currency.
Fiat currency was unreliable; the major banks were unwilling to hold too much of it. But a new law had been issued from above, forcibly requiring banks to exchange gold for fiat currency. The gold reserves in bank vaults dwindled rapidly, replaced by piles of banknotes losing value by the hour.
For the banks, it was a double blow. Any bank unwilling to collapse had only one path left—submit to the government.
It was a relatively “dignified” way to die: hand the bank over to the government, let profit and loss fall where it may. At least the owners could step away cleanly, avoiding outright bankruptcy.
Many banks were already at death’s door. And at such a moment, Song Yuzhang had been absent. That was why Liu Chu had rushed to fetch him back to take charge.
No lights were lit in the Song residence. In the darkness, Song Yuzhang spoke with Liu Chuanzong.
Because Song Yuzhang had gone to Qingxi, Liu Chuanzong had refused to comply with the new law on the grounds that the vault key had been taken by the president, thus barely preserving the gold stored in the bank’s vault.
But it was obvious the authorities would not allow the Song Bank to remain untouched. If they continued to refuse to hand over the gold, the law stipulated severe tax penalties—heavy enough to bankrupt any bank on the spot.
“That’s not a penalty,” Song said calmly. “That’s outright robbery.”
Liu Chuanzong did not dare respond directly. He only added, “After you left, Director Liao took half the gold and cash from the Vienna vault.”
The clock ticked slowly in the hall. After a long silence, Song Yuzhang said, “I understand.”
With Shen Chengduo dead, a treasury of cash had been left behind. Song Yuzhang was no saint; he had intended to take a ruthless cut. But under the current circumstances, that windfall was hardly enough to solve anything—especially since Liao Tiandong had taken half.
Strictly speaking, that half was what Liao Tiandong “deserved.” These people all needed feeding. Wolves and tigers—some looked fierce, others mild on the surface, but in essence, they were no different.
Song Yuzhang pressed a hand to his forehead, breathing deeply, again and again, but the turbulence within him would not settle.
Liu Chuanzong heard the strain in his breathing and lowered his voice. “Second Master Nie will arrive in Haizhou soon. He’s at the height of his power right now. Perhaps he can speak for us.”
After a long silence, Song Yuzhang let out a soft laugh, light and unreadable.
“You should go,” he said, gripping the sofa arm and standing. “Be careful not to draw attention.”
“Yes.”
After Liu Chuanzong slipped away, Song stood alone in the hall for a moment, then turned, hands in his pockets. He lifted his head and drew a deep breath. His temples throbbed faintly.
Nie Yinbing had just won a great victory; naturally, he carried influence. Perhaps not absolute authority, but enough to ease the bank’s burden and help it barely survive.
The first section of the railway was complete and would open after the New Year. Once operational, revenue would flow. The arm factory had resumed production as well. Profits would follow. The bank could operate smoothly again.
But what then?
Song Yuzhang stepped slowly outside. The moon hung bright above; in the bluish night, the lake below was dark and fathomless. White birds perched by the water, feathers tucked in against the chill.
Standing by the lake, gazing at the moon, Song Yuzhang thought of how times had changed. He was no longer the short-sighted swindler of old. He stood higher now, saw farther. Yet what he saw was not a grander, more beautiful landscape, but a whirlpool as dark as the lake itself—inescapable to anyone caught within it.
Song Yuzhang had returned to Haizhou in secret. He remained concealed at the Song residence for two days, thinking alone.
Liu Chuanzong and Liu Chu risked passing him messages twice. The bank’s situation was dire. Nie Yinbing was close—he would reach the outskirts of Haizhou tomorrow, reportedly with an entire division.
“Once Second Master Nie marches into Haizhou with his troops, everything will change,” Liu Chu said optimistically. “As long as he stays here, won’t Haizhou be his?”
He thought: if Nie Yinbing became the local overlord, wouldn’t Song Yuzhang be able to walk sideways in this city?
With the railway and arm factory established, Haizhou would visibly become one of the nation’s strongest bastions.
Song Yuzhang listened expressionlessly. There was no joy on his face.
The picture Liu Chu painted—commanding wind and rain in Haizhou—brought Song Yuzhang no pride. He was calm. So calm it unsettled Liu Chu.
Thinking Song Yuzhang was still worried, Liu Chu cited examples—even the useless Twenty-Third Division. They had held Guantu, a poor place, yet lived comfortably. How much more so in a wealthy city like Haizhou? They could build a paradise here.
“Paradise?” Song Yuzhang echoed with a faint smile.
Liu Chu nodded vigorously. “The war’s nearly over. From now on it’s about peaceful living. In Haizhou, you have money, Second Master Nie has troops, Second Master Meng has business. The three of you together—no one would dare offend you.”
Song Yuzhang’s smile faded. “Even now,” he said lightly, “no one in Haizhou dares offend me.”
Liu Chu hesitated. “That’s true, but the bank really can’t move right now…”
“Why not?” Song Yuzhang lowered his eyes. “Prepare the car. I’m going to the bank.”
Liu Chu’s eyes widened. “Now?”
“Yes.”
“But Second Master Nie hasn’t entered the city yet. It could be dangerous.”
“What danger?”
“The bank is surrounded. This time it’s different. If you piled up a mountain of gold, they’d dare to grab it—believe me.”
Song Yuzhang smiled again. “Grab it? They won’t.”
Liu Chu tried to protest, but Song Yuzhang cut him off with a decisive gesture. “Get the car.”
Unable to defy him, Liu Chu complied and summoned the Song family attendants.
Song Yuzhang went upstairs to change. When he came down, Liu Chu stared in surprise—Song Yuzhang wore a black suit with a subtle sheen, as though attending a grand banquet.
Haizhou was always prosperous. Even now, the streets bustled—cars passing, vendors shouting. Nothing in the scene suggested the city was undergoing upheaval.
But nearing the bank district, the truth became clear.
People. The entire street was filled with them. They were not riotous, but numb—wrapped in a suffocating silence of despair.
“President, we can’t drive any further,” Liu Chu said nervously.
Song Yuzhang sat silently for a moment, then pushed the car door open and stepped out. He looked ahead: people stood or sat, all facing the bank.
With a crowd this vast, the proper order would be to suppress it first, then surrender the gold to settle the legal issue, and finally manage whatever funds remained. Only then could the bank be saved.
“President, we probably can’t get in,” Liu Chu whispered. “Should we go back?”
Song Yuzhang kept his hands in his pockets and stepped forward gracefully.
Liu Chu hesitated, then chose to follow slowly in the car. If something happened, a car was safer than nothing.
After walking some distance, someone ahead recognized him.
“President Song—”
“It’s President Song!”
“President Song is back! President Song is back—”
The crowd clearly stirred with excitement. Liu Chu gripped the steering wheel tightly, unsure whether to get out or drive forward. “President!”
Facing the gathering crowd, Song Yuzhang raised a hand slightly. As if blocked by something invisible, the people halted. Despair and hope—two completely opposite emotions—surged toward him at once. Song said evenly, “Please step aside. I need to enter the bank.”
In an uncanny silence, the crowd parted to make a path.
The presidents of the major banks had, as if by agreement, collectively vanished from Haizhou. Song Yuzhang had not shown himself either. Those in the know said he had gone out of town—but whether that was true was uncertain. In any case, none had appeared.
Now that Song Yuzhang suddenly emerged, people instinctively wanted to believe—but they were also afraid that such belief would once again collapse into emptiness.
Liu Chu drove slowly behind Song Yuzhang. The crowd parted and closed again, densely following the man and the car. Inside, Liu Chu’s nerves tightened viciously; he was ready at any moment to ram through the crowd or leap out and fight.
The bank doors were shut.
Song Yuzhang stood before the building and looked up at its gilded roof. Even in broad daylight, the light was blinding.
After watching for a moment, he turned back, braced a hand on the hood, and vaulted onto the car. Amid gasps from the crowd, he climbed in two quick steps to the roof.
A sea of people—Song Yuzhang could not see where it ended. The dark car was an island in the human ocean. Standing at its center, his voice carried out, neither loud nor soft: “The bank will reopen in two hours. Please step back.”
Like a stone thrown into water, his words rippled outward. A great murmur rose. Song remained composed. A dark red silk handkerchief was folded neatly at his chest; his hands rested lazily in his trouser pockets. He smiled toward the upturned faces. “This is the Song Bank. I’ve said it before—so long as I, Song Yuzhang, am here, you will never be unable to withdraw your money!”
The words sounded familiar—so familiar they brought an involuntary sense of reassurance. Amid the clamor, the crowd slowly began to retreat.
Song Yuzhang stood on the car roof, watching the waves of people pass the message back and move away. After a while, he turned and jumped down. Bending, he tapped on the car window and smiled faintly at the stunned Liu Chu. “Let’s go in.”
Liu Chu got out and followed him inside, quickly shutting the doors behind them. The car remained outside, and behind it stretched a large empty space. No one rushed forward.
Inside the bank, Song brushed his hand over the light switches along the wall, turning on every lamp one by one as he walked. “Notify everyone—immediately return to work.”
Liu Chu began making calls, first to Liu Chuanzong.
Liu Chuanzong lived nearby and arrived within minutes.
“Did you bring the vault key?” Song Yuzhang asked.
“I did,” Liu Chuanzong replied calmly.
Song Yuzhang nodded slightly and gestured. “Open the vault.”
Liu Chuanzong did not move. “Have you truly thought this through?”
Song Yuzhang lifted a hand and patted his shoulder. “Go—”
Liu Chuanzong looked at him quietly for a moment, then bowed deeply. “Yes, President.”
Song Yuzhang had thought it through.
Everything here had never truly belonged to him—yet everything here was his. This was Song Yuzhang’s bank. How it was used was his decision alone. No one would manipulate him. Let the gold scatter into the world—what better destination?
He walked to the newly installed glass window and looked down at the now-quiet crowd. A faint smile touched his lips. His heart felt astonishingly light.
Behind him came the sound of a lock turning. Song Yuzhang turned around. It was Meng Tingjing.
“Why are you here?” Song asked. “Didn’t I tell you not to get involved?”
As he walked toward him, Meng Tingjing said, “If you’re reopening the bank, how could I not come?”
Song Yuzhang smiled. “Then sit here and help pour tea.”
Meng Tingjing stood beside him. “I brought some gold and U.S. dollars. I’ve already had Old Liu put them in the vault.”
He spoke lightly, but Song Yuzhang frowned. “Tingjing, I don’t like this.”
“I’m not doing it for you,” Meng Tingjing replied.
Song Yuzhang’s brows knit tightly. “I’ve already decided. The bank… I don’t want it anymore. Why, I’ll explain later. In any case, you don’t need to help me like this. Tingjing…” He drew a breath, looking at him with disapproval. “I don’t want other things mixed between us.”
Meng Tingjing looked out at the crowd through the glass and said, seemingly off-topic, “On that ship, I saw Xiao Fengxian.”
Song Yuzhang paused slightly, unsure what Meng Tingjing meant.
“He was bound hand and foot inside a crate, covered in wounds, face down. I couldn’t see clearly,” Meng Tingjing said after a moment. “I didn’t try to look carefully either. He had nothing to do with me. In truth, I didn’t see him at all.”
“If I had even a trace of compassion…” Meng Tingjing turned to Song Yuzhang, gave a faint, bitter smile, and lowered his voice. “I wouldn’t have missed you.”
He took Song Yuzhang’s hand, gazing into his flickering eyes. “There’s nothing mixed between us. I came here because of you—because of you, I saw all living beings.”
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