Song Yuzhang: Chapter 190 - Enough

May 13, 2026 Oyen 0 Comments

Happy Reading~Chapter 190: Enough
 
When the bank opened, the crowd surged in like a flood. The banking hall roared with noise—voices shouting at every counter, transactions happening all at once. The scene was chaotic, yet not beyond control. It held together in a tense, precarious order. No one dared truly cause trouble. The people nearby watched like hungry wolves. That the bank had opened today was nothing short of a miracle. If anyone really stirred up trouble and forced it to close again, those who hadn’t managed to withdraw their money would devour the culprits alive.
   
Song Yuzhang watched for a while from the second floor. Seeing that things were still relatively stable, he returned to his office.
 
“How is it?” Meng Tingjing asked.
 
Song Yuzhang sat beside him. “At this rate, we won’t be able to close tonight.”
 
“The situation is bad. Once you open the bank, it won’t just be withdrawals. There’ll be plenty coming to exchange currency as well.”
 
“Let them exchange,” Song Yuzhang sneered softly. “Even if the vault is emptied out completely, I won’t let those people benefit.”
 
Meng Tingjing knew very well who “those people” were. His expression remained calm. In truth, he had much he wanted to say to Song Yuzhang, but this was not the right moment. They would get through this crisis first.
 
News that the Song Bank had opened spread swiftly through Haizhou. After the Gold Act was promulgated, each province had quickly established a new department specifically for its enforcement—the New Law Department.
 
Upon hearing that the president of Song Bank had returned, the head of the New Law Department immediately grew eager to set out and confiscate gold. Song Bank was the largest private bank in Haizhou; rumor had it that it possessed a veritable mountain of gold.
 
The director harbored boundless enthusiasm for what amounted to legalized robbery. He quickly assembled the entire department and, together with the police bureau, set off in a grand procession of vehicles toward Song Bank.
 
Upstairs, Liao Tiandong watched the convoy depart from his window. He let the curtain fall, his face twisting with resentment. He loathed the New Law Department. Like imperial envoys wielding the Emperor’s sword, they had taken over Haizhou, squeezing out every drop of profit—and each drop pained him as though it were carved from his own flesh.
 
That money should have included his share.
 
While Liao Tiandong writhed in his office as though being flayed alive, Song Yuzhang, holding court at the bank, had already received word that the New Law Department was charging over in force.
 
He crossed one leg over the other and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He flicked one between his fingers and placed it between his lips, lighting it as he spoke. “Since they’ve come from afar, aren’t we going to notify everyone to welcome them?”
 
Liu Chuanzong immediately understood. “Yes.” He hurried out.
 
With the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, Song Yuzhang narrowed his eyes; there was a faintly ruthless gleam in his gaze. Meng Tingjing watched from the side, his own heart steady.
 
The New Law Department was tyrannical—unreasonable, beyond negotiation. What was the law? They were the law. Either submit obediently, or clash head-on.
 
Then let them clash.
 
Song Yuzhang finished the cigarette in a slow stream of smoke and rose to stand before the floor-to-ceiling window. Looking into the distance, he saw the convoy had arrived—yet it was blocked at the street entrance, utterly unable to proceed.
 
The entire street was packed with people. And more were still arriving, having heard that Song Bank was allowing withdrawals and currency exchange.
 
More than a dozen vehicles from the New Law Department had come, a formidable procession—yet in this sea of humanity, they were like oxen sinking into mud, unable to move an inch.
 
The department officials had no choice but to get out and try to drive people away. Their shouted orders were swallowed entirely by the crowd. Accustomed to throwing their weight around, they had never imagined a moment when their voices would carry no weight at all. They hurriedly called for assistance from the police who followed behind.
 
The local police officers stepped out, blowing their whistles sharply and waving batons to disperse the crowd. The local police still held a certain authority; the common people retreated a few steps.
 
Satisfied, the New Law officials climbed back into their cars, preparing to move forward.
 
Yet for reasons unclear, before the engines could even start, something changed again.
 
The sea of people seemed to surge as if stirred by wind, flowing back toward the convoy and instantly swallowing the gap that had just opened.
 
The officials stared in disbelief. One of them thrust a hand out the window and slapped the car hood. “What are you doing? Move aside!”
 
The crowd played deaf and dumb, jostling with tacit coordination, pretending ignorance as they pressed toward the direction of the bank. No matter how the shouts rose behind them, they refused to yield so much as a crack.
 
There were simply too many people. Though a few seemed to move away here and there, fresh waves quickly filled their place.
 
In truth, Song Bank was not far. From inside the car, one could already see the gleaming gilded roof. Yet the vehicles simply could not get through. With such a mass of humanity, abandoning the cars to proceed on foot was hardly wise. Inside his vehicle, the director of the New Law Department was frantic, like a gourmand starved for three days staring at a delicacy just within reach yet unable to take a bite.
 
Liao Tiandong kept close watch from his office. When he heard the convoy couldn’t even pass through the street, he froze for a moment—then slapped the desk and burst into laughter. He felt immensely gratified.
 
As Song Yuzhang had predicted, even by nightfall the bank remained crowded. The hall blazed with lights; the air was thick with the scent of money. The vault stood open. Liu Chu personally oversaw the transport of cash—bundles of banknotes and gold carried out one after another. At first he felt heartache; later, a strange, swaggering exhilaration overtook him.
 
From day into night, from night into day again, Song Yuzhang snatched a few brief naps. When he awoke from one, the bank had largely quieted.
 
He had been lying with his head on Meng Tingjing’s lap. His heart was calm. He wiped his face with his palm, sat up, and stared blankly for a while. Turning to Meng Tingjing, whose expression remained composed, he smiled faintly and patted his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go down and take a look.”
 
The lights were still on in the bank. The glow of the setting sun streamed in, casting everything in red. As Song Yuzhang descended the stairs, he listened to Liu Chuanzong report the accounts. Since he had long been prepared in his heart, he remained unruffled. A faint smile touched his lips—just as he came face-to-face with the director of the New Law Department entering through the doors.
 
The director was livid.
 
Song Yuzhang cooperatively led him to the vault. It was large. One glance sufficed. It was empty—utterly empty.
 
The director was stunned. As if unwilling to accept it, he fumbled along the walls of the vault, unable to believe that the mountain of gold that had once stood here had simply vanished.
 
“It’s all been withdrawn,” Song Yuzhang said amiably. “Would you like to see the ledgers?”
 
The director turned his head slightly, his face feral and twisted, his gaze moving back and forth between Song Yuzhang and Meng Tingjing. He dearly wished to vent his fury on the spot. Mere businessmen—they could be dealt with! Once he returned and fabricated the charges, he would make sure these two paid dearly.
 
Having gained nothing, brimming with resentment, the director departed with his convoy.
 
In the empty vault, Song Yuzhang let out a breath. Turning to Meng Tingjing, he said, “Well, that settles it. We’ve thoroughly offended them.”
 
“As long as it felt good,” Meng Tingjing replied.
 
Song Yuzhang stared at him without blinking. The sternness on his face suddenly melted, and he broke into a radiant grin. “Oh, it felt very good indeed!”
 
Ever since arriving in Haizhou, he had been scrambling within the so-called upper circles of society. Now that he had climbed this far, he felt that the upper crust was rotten to the core. Liao Tiandong, Zhang Changshan, the Twenty-Third Division… from top to bottom, filth everywhere. Even a mongrel pup like young Liu Chu fantasized about one day commanding troops in Haizhou and carving out his own dominion.
 
Song Yuzhang raised an arm and slung it around Meng Tingjing’s shoulder. “I’m hungry. Let’s go home and eat.”
 
They returned to the Meng residence. Song Yuzhang still did not trust managing his own household—he feared the servants’ laxity, and feared prying ears beyond the walls. The Meng home was comparatively safer.
 
Liu Chuanzong and Liu Chu also came along. Father and son were exhausted, yet in high spirits. Liu Chu gleefully described the splendid expression on the New Law director’s face. He was a very clever boy; he already understood Song Yuzhang’s intentions. His thinking quickly shifted, and he stood together with Song Yuzhang in shared enmity against a common foe.
 
The four of them shared a simple meal together in the dining room. Liu Chu and Liu Chuanzong had lived at the Meng residence for a period before; Meng Tingjing had not touched their courtyard and had kept it for them. After finishing their meal, father and son returned to their courtyard to rest.
 
Song Yuzhang asked, “Where’s Sister Sushan?”
 
“Wan Lan’s family had some trouble. Eldest Sister went back to her hometown with her.”
 
Song Yuzhang gave an “Oh,” his brows knitting slightly.
 
After a moment of silence, Meng Tingjing said, “Let’s talk in the courtyard.”
 
The two returned to the small courtyard. Song Yuzhang supported himself on the armrest and sat down in the rocking chair. It was fully dark outside. He drew in a breath of the cool night air and, suddenly, thought of Nie Yinbing.
 
Originally, he hadn’t thought too much about things. But with Meng Tingjing’s sudden appearance, his heart could no longer remain calm.
 
To love or not to love—sometimes it was only the difference of a single thought.
 
Meng Tingjing also sat down in a rocking chair. No sooner had he settled than Song Yuzhang said, “I remember when I used to come here as a guest, I’d think—how could you be so autocratic? Even in your courtyard, you only put out one chair for yourself.”
 
Meng Tingjing smiled faintly. After a while, the smile slowly faded. He remembered that back then he had wanted to add a chair for Song Yuzhang—yet later they had quarreled so badly they had nearly severed ties with a single stroke.
 
“Yuzhang.”
 
“Tingjing.”
 
They spoke almost at the same time. Turning their faces toward one another, they both laughed.
 
“You tell me,” Meng Tingjing said. “The bank is now an empty shell. I don’t believe you’d have no backup plan. What are you intending to do next?”
 
Song Yuzhang clasped his hands together. In the gentle night breeze, he smiled. “A backup plan? If I told you, I’m afraid it would shock you.”
 
For some reason, Meng Tingjing had a faint premonition. Tilting his head slightly, he said, “Go on.”
 
Song Yuzhang was silent for a while, then spoke slowly and cautiously. “The bank, the railway, the arm factory—I don’t want any of them anymore.”
 
The moment he said it, Meng Tingjing’s breathing stalled briefly.
 
Song Yuzhang continued, “I don’t want to wade through this muddy water anymore. Liao Tiandong has always been ambitious. I’m thinking of making a deal with him. He has money in hand—he can afford the price.”
 
“And then?” Meng Tingjing asked softly.
 
Another stretch of silence followed. Song Yuzhang lifted his eyes to look at him. Meng Tingjing was watching him intently. Song Yuzhang gave a bitter smile. “Tingjing, I want to leave.”
 
In truth, this decision had already flickered vaguely through his mind when he had been confined by Fu Mian.
 
Haizhou was indeed a good place. Here he had been Fifth Master Song, President Song, Chairman Song… Enough. He had already had enough.
 
“Leave for where?”
 
“I don’t know,” Song Yuzhang said. “I’ll go to America first. I want to see Bonian. After that—who knows? Anywhere.”
 
Hearing his tone, as though he meant to wander alone across the world, Meng Tingjing’s heart clenched sharply. His hand gripped the rocking chair as he forced himself to remain calm. No matter what, he must not let things spiral out of control with Song Yuzhang again. Just as he steadied his emotions, he heard Song Yuzhang let out a long sigh.
 
A warm palm covered his hand. Song Yuzhang’s voice was slightly low. “I’m free to go, but you still have such a vast family estate.”
 
He left the rest unsaid, merely holding Meng Tingjing’s hand and sighing.
 
With each sigh, Meng Tingjing had to suppress a smile. Song Yuzhang kept his head lowered and did not notice that Meng Tingjing was already grinning from ear to ear.
 
When he had first made this decision, he had thought of Meng Tingjing as well. He had figured that in the future, he could still return to Haizhou from time to time to visit him. They could still be together. If love was meant to last, why must it be measured by day and night? Two grown men didn’t need to cling to each other every single day. Meeting for a few months each year would still make them a good pair of lovers—perhaps it would even make the relationship last longer.
 
Yet Meng Tingjing— Song Yuzhang tightened his grip on Meng Tingjing’s hand. After all, he had always been selfish. “You decide for yourself. Once you’ve decided, tell me. I’ll consider it then.”
 
Meng Tingjing’s hand was shaken slightly in his grasp; it felt as though his whole body were swaying with it.
 
Consider.
 
That this wandering soul would consider things for his sake… it was enough. Truly enough. Meng Tingjing raised his hand and gently pressed it against Song Yuzhang’s lips. “I’ll go with you.”
 
Song Yuzhang suddenly lifted his head.
 
Meng Tingjing was looking at him with a bright smile, the joy on his face impossible to conceal.
 
Song Yuzhang did not immediately break into delight. Instead, he hesitated. “But the Meng family’s vast holdings…”
 
After his smile faded, Meng Tingjing’s expression grew serious. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to speak to you about this these past two days.” His face gradually turned solemn. “To send that fake telegram, I went to Nancheng at the time. The atmosphere there was highly unusual. The Japanese may soon be driven out, but the war is far from over…”
 
Song Yuzhang was listening intently when the sound of a servant’s announcement suddenly came from outside.
 
“Master, Second Master Nie is outside and says he wishes to see Fifth Master.”

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