Song Yuzhang: Chapter 191 - Emotion
It was already fully dark outside. Two lanterns hung at the entrance of the Meng residence. Beneath their dim yellow glow, Nie Yinbing stood holding the reins of a tall, glossy black horse. From under the brim of his cap, his gaze was fixed intently on the tightly shut doors. When the doors finally stirred, he stepped half a pace forward. His hard riding boot struck the stone ground with a sharp scrape.
Song Yuzhang pushed the door open and saw Nie Yinbing.
Their eyes met. Light flickered in both pairs of eyes. Strangely, neither of them moved. They simply stood where they were, separated by the layers of stone steps, gazing at one another in silence.
Nie Yinbing let go of the reins and strode up the steps in long strides. With two steps still between them, he reached out, caught Song Yuzhang by the waist, and lifted him slightly. Song Yuzhang’s hands instinctively came to rest on his shoulders. He smiled faintly. “Yinbing.”
Nie Yinbing tilted his face upward. The dark green brim of his cap cast a faint shadow across his features. In that shadow, his eyes shone with a soft light. Song Yuzhang’s heart softened as well. “You’re back.”
Nie Yinbing looked at him for a long time. He was speaking with his eyes—thousands of words condensed into that single gaze. The chaos of war, the endless longing—everything was in his eyes.
In the past, Song Yuzhang would not have understood such tenderness. Now, he could.
In the utter stillness of the night, their gaze grew prolonged, weighted. Nie Yinbing did not move at all, like a silent statue. He had not seen Song Yuzhang for too long; every look was making up for the time they had lost.
“This time, now that you’re back… are you leaving again?”
Song Yuzhang’s lips moved, but in Nie Yinbing’s eyes everything seemed slowed. His eyes, ears, and nose all worked independently, capturing the man before him. Song Yuzhang’s face, voice, and breath seemed to scatter apart, weaving into a net that enveloped him, leaving him slightly disoriented.
When Song Yuzhang received no answer, he called softly, “Yinbing?”
Nie Yinbing raised his head and kissed him.
Song Yuzhang was slightly startled. His heart was very soft—but within that softness was also a trace of desolation. Nie Yinbing’s kiss was clean and pure, merely lips touching lips. This was likely the boldest expression he could manage when his feelings ran deepest.
Song Yuzhang’s heart was filled with melancholy; he had no space to experience the surging tide of emotion within Nie Yinbing.
Xiao Fengxian—he was going to take him away. The man had suffered for him, endured hardship for him. Song Yuzhang had already resolved to care for him for the rest of his life. Meng Tingjing—he would take him too. Since Meng Tingjing loved him so deeply, then so be it; he would be selfish. Even if it meant abandoning family and fortune, Meng Tingjing would follow him. And Nie Yinbing…
Song Yuzhang stepped back slightly, separating their lips. His hand also slid from Nie Yinbing’s shoulder, his palm brushing over the cold, hard stars pinned there.
Top of his class at the military academy—yet forced to waste time skirmishing with minor bandits. Only this time had he truly gone to the battlefield. Song Yuzhang’s gaze fell to the collar clasp at Nie Yinbing’s throat. His thumb lightly brushed the crisp fabric of his collar. Smiling faintly, he said, “It’s been so long. Don’t you have anything to say?”
Nie Yinbing’s breath, tinged with the chill of night, brushed against Song Yuzhang’s face. At last, he spoke his first words since their meeting. “You’ve grown thinner.”
At that, Song Yuzhang’s heart suddenly ached. He lifted the corner of his mouth. “It’s called being slender.”
Nie Yinbing’s gaze moved upward to his hair. He reached out and touched the top of Song Yuzhang’s head. The hair was too short—almost like that of the soldiers under his command. “What happened to your hair?”
Song Yuzhang knew at once that Nie Yinbing was completely unaware of everything that had happened during their time apart.
The battlefield was a vortex that devoured all things. Romantic entanglements became insignificant within it. Song Yuzhang felt grateful for that. He continued smiling. “It’s called neat.”
Or perhaps he wanted to look longer this time—to sustain him through the next separation.
Nie Yinbing kept looking at him, his gaze traveling inch by inch across Song Yuzhang’s face, as though he could never look enough.
Song Yuzhang’s palm slid from Nie Yinbing’s shoulder down his arm. He gently pulled his hand away. “Let’s go inside to talk.”
Nie Yinbing held onto his hand, his boots planted firmly like stone. He refused to enter the Meng residence. Song Yuzhang did not force him. “Then we’ll talk here.”
Nie Yinbing had wanted to take Song Yuzhang back to the Nie residence. At those words, he swallowed the thought. After half a year of war, commanding thousands of troops, he still could not command the man before him.
They sat together on the stone steps. The horse, docile, lowered its head to nibble at the neatly arranged potted plants by the Meng residence gate.
In a few brief sentences, Nie Yinbing described his months at war—killing, hatred, defeat, victory. He was not good at storytelling; his words were plain and blunt. Yet what Song Yuzhang heard was a stark, breathtaking intensity. And clearly, Nie Yinbing had relished it.
If he were to die on the battlefield, Nie Yinbing likely would not resent it.
As for the intrigues of the upper ranks, the scrambling for power and profit—none of it appeared in his account. He simply fought and killed. It was that simple.
Song Yuzhang had known Nie Yinbing for quite some time. He had always felt that Nie Yinbing was out of step—not just in speech and manner, but as a person entirely mismatched with this world, as though he could not find his place in it.
The battlefield—that was where he truly belonged.
Song Yuzhang’s gaze softened. He felt genuinely happy for him.
“Yeyang has been taken. There are three or four more cities next…” Song Yuzhang trailed off, then suddenly smiled. Abruptly, he said, “Yinbing, I’m leaving.”
Nie Yinbing had already removed his cap. The night wind ruffled his short hair. He looked at Song Yuzhang with complete focus.
Smiling as he spoke, Song Yuzhang said, “A lot happened while you were away. I… I want to leave. I’ve never been able to stay in one place for long anyway.” His tone was light, almost casual. “I want to go out and wander.”
After hearing him, Nie Yinbing asked, “Where?”
“Not sure.”
Nie Yinbing fell silent.
“First, I’ll go see Bonian.”
Still, Nie Yinbing did not fully grasp his meaning. “When will you come back?”
Song Yuzhang looked into the heavy darkness of the night and once more spoke three words. “I don’t know.”
This time, Nie Yinbing understood completely.
Song Yuzhang could feel the intensity of Nie Yinbing’s gaze fixed on his profile. Calmly, he said, “Once I’m abroad, I’ll write to you.”
Nie Yinbing remained silent. Slowly, Song Yuzhang hardened his heart. They had never truly been together for long to begin with. Separation seemed almost their natural state.
Song Yuzhang squeezed Nie Yinbing’s hand. “Yinbing, take care.”
He rose to his feet—but Nie Yinbing’s grip held fast, preventing him from pulling away.
Nie Yinbing did not look at him. Sitting on the steps, the two stubborn tufts of hair atop his head swayed in the night breeze. Song Yuzhang stood with his back to him, not turning around.
Their hands were clasped tightly—but the force was one-sided. Nie Yinbing stared ahead, his gaze dark. Half a year of war had left its mark on him. A fierce impulse surged within him—to pull Song Yuzhang onto the horse, seize him, and ride away.
Why leave? How could he leave? Nie Yinbing had countless words in his heart. But he feared that saying them would only push Song Yuzhang farther away. He simply gripped his hand, torn by an inner battle. If Song Yuzhang wanted to leave, no one could stop him. Not even a net cast from heaven could hold him.
“Why?” Nie Yinbing asked in a low voice.
One of Song Yuzhang’s feet had already stepped up. Calmly, he said, “Yinbing, I’ve made my decision.”
Still gripping his hand, Nie Yinbing paused. Then suddenly he stood, exerted a slight force of his arm, and pulled Song Yuzhang—who had already taken a step—back into his embrace. His eyes locked tightly onto Song Yuzhang’s as he said slowly, “I’ll go with you.”
Song Yuzhang looked deeply into his eyes and saw a resolute pain there.
Nie Yinbing was willing too.
Even if his heart was reluctant. Even if it meant once more feeling lost and out of place in this world. If he decided, then he would do it. Like a warrior cutting off his own arm—the arm he would sever would not be Song Yuzhang.
Song Yuzhang’s own hand tightened. He lowered his head slightly, breathing deeply several times. Then he raised his arms and wrapped them around Nie Yinbing’s broad shoulders, his palm brushing over the stars pinned there. In a low voice, Song Yuzhang said, “Yinbing, I know your nature. You like fighting—then go and fight. Look, in these past six months, I wasn’t by your side, and you weren’t by mine. We both lived just fine. Yinbing, I understand your heart.” He patted his shoulder firmly. “Go do what you want to do. Don’t, for my sake…” He paused, his tone tinged with melancholy. “…demean yourself.”
Nie Yinbing lowered his head, resting the tip of his nose against Song Yuzhang’s collar. The scent on Song Yuzhang’s body surged toward him, rich and immediate. A strange ache welled up inside Nie Yinbing. He thought that Song Yuzhang truly seemed to understand his heart.
Song Yuzhang held Nie Yinbing in a long embrace. In a soft voice, he told him that he would be going abroad, though he might not necessarily stay away forever. Besides, he was going to United States to visit Bonian. Sooner or later, Nie Yinbing would surely go to visit Bonian as well. That meant they would always have chances to meet again. Parting and reunion always alternated; perhaps this separation would soon be followed by another meeting.
None of Song Yuzhang’s consoling words truly entered Nie Yinbing’s ears.
He only knew that Song Yuzhang was leaving—and refusing to take him along.
Song Yuzhang had made the decision for him.
Nie Yinbing left.
Song Yuzhang reentered the house. The moment he stepped inside, he was startled—Meng Tingjing was standing just behind the door, ghostlike.
Though Song Yuzhang’s heart jumped, his face remained composed. He quickly recovered, his eyes curving slightly as he said, “Hiding here to eavesdrop?”
Meng Tingjing ignored the question. “Why not take him with you?”
“Yinbing was born to be a soldier,” Song Yuzhang said as he walked farther in. “Why ruin him for a bit of personal selfishness?”
With his hands clasped behind his back, Meng Tingjing followed, giving a small snort. “Yet you have no such scruples about me.”
Song Yuzhang replied breezily, “Didn’t I ask for your opinion too?”
“He agreed, didn’t he?”
Song Yuzhang walked a long stretch before answering leisurely, “He agreed. I didn’t.”
Meng Tingjing went on, “Actually, I think you should have agreed. The Japanese have been driven off. In Nancheng, I’m afraid they’ll start fighting their own people next. When one’s own people fight each other, they might be even harsher than outsiders.”
Song Yuzhang stopped and turned back. Meng Tingjing looked at him with composed ease.
After a moment’s thought, Song Yuzhang said, “Yinbing doesn’t understand politics, but he has his own principles. If it really comes to that, I believe he’ll know which path to take.”
“He doesn’t understand politics. Aren’t you afraid he’ll become a sacrifice in the struggle?”
Song Yuzhang cast him a sideways glance. After looking him up and down, he crooked a finger at him. Meng Tingjing ignored the gesture.
Song Yuzhang smiled faintly, his voice gentle. “Jealous?”
Meng Tingjing at first looked perfectly calm. After a moment, he stepped forward, hooked an arm around Song Yuzhang’s neck, and pulled him into his embrace. Lowering his head, he murmured in Song Yuzhang’s ear, “Last time we talked through the whole night. The moment I woke up, you’d run off with him.”
Recalling it, Song Yuzhang was slightly at a loss for words. “That time was different.”
Meng Tingjing gave a quiet snort inwardly. Of course, it was different. He had been watching from inside. If there had been any sign of Song Yuzhang going with Nie Yinbing, he would have snatched him back immediately. What pleased him greatly was that after their talk, when Nie Yinbing asked Song Yuzhang to return with him to the Nie residence, Song Yuzhang refused.
Song Yuzhang was willing to pay with his life for Fu Mian, and he was reluctant to let Nie Yinbing give up his bright future to follow him. But Song Yuzhang was willing to live with him, willing to leave together with him. Who could say Song Yuzhang’s feelings for him were any shallower than for those two?
Meng Tingjing felt that Song Yuzhang’s feelings for him must be the deepest of all!
He was secretly delighted, though he didn’t let it show. On the surface, he still looked uncertain and uneasy, waiting for Song Yuzhang to coax him with a few sweet words. Unexpectedly, Song Yuzhang seemed utterly oblivious to romance. Upon returning, he stretched lazily and patted the rocking chair. “This chair is really hard. In the middle of winter, couldn’t they at least put a cushion on it?”
Meng Tingjing was speechless for a long while. He went over and patted Song Yuzhang’s waist. “The bed’s soft. Get on the bed.”
They talked for a long time in bed. Though Meng Tingjing did not engage in politics, his instincts were sharp. A single trip to Nancheng had allowed him to pick up on many subtle clues. When he shared them with Song Yuzhang, Song Yuzhang became even more determined to leave. He considered explaining it to Nie Yinbing but feared that Nie Yinbing lacked the guile and might suffer harm instead. Better not to say anything.
After their exchange, Meng Tingjing laid out his plans in full. Song Yuzhang thought them excellent.
“We can’t just leave empty-handed,” Meng Tingjing said, uncharacteristically lighting a cigarette. “I’ve already reached an agreement with Li Zifeng. After I leave, all the Haizhou enterprises will be entrusted to him.”
Song Yuzhang took one as well, holding it at the corner of his mouth. “How much did he pay?”
Meng Tingjing made a gesture with his hand.
Song Yuzhang had a rough idea. “He got a bargain.”
Meng Tingjing shook his head. “If we stayed, they’d be seized sooner or later. If not by him, then by someone else. These people treat the country as their private property. The war’s not even won yet, and they’re already scrambling to carve up the territory.”
Song Yuzhang blew out a stream of smoke. In truth, he agreed completely.
The Gold Law—what a joke. Just a scrap of paper, yet enough to squeeze people dry down to the bone.
To hell with it. Whoever wants to deal with that can do so. He wasn’t sticking around.
His eyes flickered, and suddenly he said, “Tell me—do you think the local big shots in Haizhou might also be very interested in the docks and the textile mills?”
Meng Tingjing turned to look at him.
The corner of Song Yuzhang’s mouth curved faintly. “That Commander Li—since he already has the docks and the textile mills, shouldn’t the railway and the arm factory also be gathered into his hands to make it truly complete?”
In Song Yuzhang’s mischievous smile, Meng Tingjing faintly understood his intention. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray by the bed, cupped Song Yuzhang’s face, and planted a firm kiss on his brow. “You’ll never get rid of that bad habit!”
Song Yuzhang laughed, extinguished his own cigarette, held Meng Tingjing’s face, and kissed his brow in return. “As long as you know!”
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