Song Yuzhang: Extra 18 - The Days Ahead Are Long [featuring Meng Tingjing]
The fighting back home was raging, with news changing day by day. The situation seemed to shift by the hour. Song Yuzhang found it hard to focus on studying, but being anxious abroad wouldn’t solve anything—it would only make things worse. After a major setback during a routine evaluation, he gritted his teeth and decided to stop paying attention.
“What I gain is my fortune, what I lose is my fate. Life is never perfect—everyone should just live their own lives.”
After calming himself, Song Yuzhang threw himself back into his daily studies and routines.
But paper can’t hold back fire forever. The news that Nie Yinbing had joined the army eventually reached Nie Qingyun.
She acted impulsively at first, storming over to berate Song Yuzhang. Once she had vented, however, she realized she was in the wrong. Nie Yinbing wasn’t a child, and there was no reason to rely on anyone else. Song Yuzhang didn’t argue, understanding that it was simply hard for her to accept at the moment.
After calming down, Nie Qingyun apologized to him. She carefully asked about the situation back home, then fell into a long, contemplative silence.
After thinking for a while, she sighed softly and said, “This is Second Brother’s own choice. There’s no one to blame—let him go.”
What could she do? She couldn’t just rush back home recklessly. Nie Bonian was still there, waiting for surgery, and if she went back rashly and something happened, Nie Bonian would truly be left alone.
Her two older brothers were both strong-willed and stubborn, taking paths she might not approve of but had to accept. Nie Qingyun felt frustrated but helpless. She couldn’t control her brothers, but she could—and would—protect her nephew, Nie Bonian. She was no longer the little sister; she was the elder now.
After Nie Qingyun left, Song Yuzhang stayed in the courtyard for a while longer, only returning inside once night had fully fallen.
When Meng Tingjing returned from outside, he saw Song Yuzhang gazing into the dark expanse beyond the window. With a quick word to the servant, he understood the situation.
Handing the coat to the servant, Meng Tingjing approached and placed a hand on Song Yuzhang’s shoulder, lowering his head to kiss his cheek.
Song Yuzhang came back to himself, lifting his head with a faint smile. “You’re back.”
Meng Tingjing asked, “Why are you sitting here lost in thought all alone?”
“Nothing,” Song Yuzhang said, pressing down on Meng Tingjing’s hand. “Just thinking about a few things.”
“The servant said Nie Qingyun came by?”
“She came by tonight.”
“Did she say anything unpleasant?”
Song Yuzhang chuckled. “What could she say that’s unpleasant? Sister Qingyun isn’t easy herself. You should be less biased against her.”
“That’s good then.”
Song Yuzhang took his hand and stood. “Enough thinking—let’s eat!”
Life must go on. Song Yuzhang wasn’t one to brood; he quickly recovered. In April, the school was holding a rowing competition. He formed a team with classmates and practiced daily after classes, finding it rather enjoyable.
“Song, I haven’t seen your older brother much lately.”
Song Yuzhang stretched his arms. “He’s busy with work.”
After arriving abroad, Meng Tingjing had been very clingy, wanting to be with him almost constantly outside school. Song Yuzhang understood but didn’t entirely approve. After a trip to Paris, he found an opportunity to talk with Meng Tingjing seriously, finally creating a little space in their relationship.
Two grown men, each with their own responsibilities—they didn’t need to be glued together all the time. It wasn’t like marriage, where a wife revolves around her husband constantly.
“Oh, no wonder,” Raymond laughed. “He seems really possessive of you.”
“Really?” Song Yuzhang said ambiguously.
“Of course.”
“Every time he picks you up from school, my goodness—his eyes are like a predator on the prairie, staring at us so intensely. Song, didn’t you tell him how friendly we actually are?”
Song Yuzhang laughed. “He doesn’t mean harm. He just looks intimidating by nature.”
“I see. I thought he was worried we’d bully you, so he was warning us with his eyes,” Raymond said, pointing at his own eyes and mimicking a fierce stare. “You little brats, don’t even think about touching my brother.”
Song Yuzhang laughed, thinking that was probably exactly how Meng Tingjing felt.
It was different from back home—male relationships here were more sensitive. To outsiders, Song Yuzhang and Meng Tingjing were just called “brothers.” Only family knew their true relationship.
After sailing practice, Song Yuzhang went to the public bath. As an Asian, his figure was tall and lean, but among foreigners, he looked slender, even delicate.
“Song, your waist is so thin.”
A hand playfully patted him on the waist. Song Yuzhang elbowed back, making the other laugh and splash water in his face.
They all laughed and splashed water at each other. Song Yuzhang often found the foreign kids immature, but he still enjoyed the youthful fun. At his age, he could still play the “young” card among them.
After leaving the bath, Song Yuzhang bent over, drying his hair with a towel. Suddenly, someone patted his rear. He turned—Raymond was smiling at him. “Tomorrow’s the weekend. Come to my house.”
“Sure.”
“Great!” Raymond hugged his waist. “My family will love you.”
Meng Tingjing, in the car, watched Song Yuzhang walking out, arm-in-arm with the blonde, blue-eyed boy, laughing and talking. The boy was half a head taller and well-built, whispering in Song Yuzhang’s ear, making him smile with bright eyes.
“Your brother’s here,” Raymond teased. “I saw those scary eyes.”
“Raymond, don’t be rude about my family.”
Song Yuzhang patted his waist, separating them, and walked ahead with his bag. Raymond called out from behind, “Don’t forget tomorrow—”
Song Yuzhang waved without looking back, signaling he wouldn’t forget.
Once in the car, Meng Tingjing smelled the scent of Song Yuzhang’s freshly washed hair—still damp.
“You showered at school?”
“Yes. We’ve been training every night lately. I sweat a lot—wouldn’t feel right not to.”
Meng Tingjing started the car. “Training? You never mentioned that before.”
Song Yuzhang took a towel from his bag and continued drying his hair. “Rowing practice. Been training for a while. The competition is on the 20th—if you’re free, you can come watch.”
“Okay.”
“By the way, foreign kids are really interesting. One invited me to his house tomorrow for lunch.”
Meng Tingjing’s hands tightened on the wheel. “The boy who was just hugging you?”
Song Yuzhang put down the towel and ran his hands through his hair. His hair had grown long enough now, fluffy and jet-black, falling against his cheeks. Holding the towel in one hand, he smiled and said, “Getting jealous of kids again?” He reached out to touch Meng Tingjing’s cheek and said in a tender, affectionate tone, “My big jealous pot.”
Meng Tingjing smiled. “How could that be? They’re just a bunch of kids.”
“That’s right,” Song Yuzhang said, feeling a bit tired from training. He reclined the chair slightly and propped up his legs. “A bunch of wet-behind-the-ears kids…” He recalled the scene in the bathhouse and shook his head with a laugh. “Well, not entirely… foreign kids really grow fast. They’ve got hair everywhere,” he gestured in a circle across his chest, “all over here, like a little bear.”
Meng Tingjing said nothing.
Rationally, it made sense—Song Yuzhang was a man, and it was perfectly normal for men to go into the bathhouse together. But rationality aside, just thinking about Song Yuzhang being seen naked by those foreign kids made him uncomfortable.
Song Yuzhang swayed his legs back and forth, humming happily. Suddenly, he nudged Meng Tingjing’s arm with his elbow. Meng Tingjing glanced sideways and saw Song Yuzhang grinning at him mischievously.
“Have you seen what foreigners are like down there?”
“…”
Meng Tingjing was speechless. Song Yuzhang laughed loudly, showing his perfectly aligned teeth, and said in a teasing, playful tone, “It’s really freaking huge!”
Meng Tingjing felt heat rush to his chest and stammered stiffly, “Is that so?”
“Too big,” Song Yuzhang marveled, shaking his head. “I don’t think an ordinary person could handle it.”
Meng Tingjing couldn’t help but pull a face. Noticing this, Song Yuzhang patted his thigh. “Don’t overthink it. Just chatting casually. The right one is what matters anyway. Besides, you’re not lacking—very satisfactory.”
Meng Tingjing’s face turned pale. He had no witty retort, but refraining from anger was already some restraint.
Back at home, Meng Tingjing found an excuse to go to the bathroom, slamming the sink in frustration. He inspected himself carefully, thinking, Could I really be worse than a foreigner?
He had been overthinking before. Song Yuzhang’s interests had already shifted—what he should really be wary of wasn’t Chen Hanmin but those tall, strong classmates!
Big? What’s the use of big? Big but useless!
Fuming inwardly, Meng Tingjing ate quickly and went upstairs to shower, intending to clean himself and prepare to “show off” later. But Song Yuzhang hadn’t returned to the room. When he went downstairs in his robe, he found Song Yuzhang by the phone, speaking in English with remarkable fluency—gentle yet witty, with a magnetic voice and clearly in a good mood.
After hanging up, Song Yuzhang saw Meng Tingjing at the stairs and smiled. “Raymond was worried, so he called to remind me.” He walked down, took Meng Tingjing’s hand, and sniffed his nose. “Smells so good.”
Meng Tingjing said nothing and scooped the smiling Song Yuzhang up horizontally.
They were well-practiced in such intimacy; their bodies moved in sync as they tumbled together naturally.
Song Yuzhang, excited from the day’s training, was physically eager. After an intense session, his muscles softened, and he wanted to stretch. Meng Tingjing kissed him, their tongues intertwining, and Song Yuzhang’s arousal was rekindled.
During the day, one had school, one had work. They didn’t indulge excessively, keeping things moderate—a “half-full” satisfaction each night.
This slow, steady enjoyment, night after night, carried the anticipation of the previous night, making it feel especially intense.
After years of moderate pleasures, sometimes even small indulgences could spark appetite.
Song Yuzhang ran his hands over the back of Meng Tingjing’s short hair, lowering his head to kiss the top of it. “Got things tomorrow…” he murmured.
Meng Tingjing held him close, kissing and nipping lightly. “It doesn’t matter.”
Song Yuzhang, in the prime of youth and normally unsatisfied, was easily swayed by pleasure.
In life, appetite and desire are natural. If not indulged in youth, when?
Song Yuzhang indulged fully, to the point of being stuffed, almost delirious from comfort. He rested his warm cheek on Meng Tingjing’s shoulder, humming softly in sync, half-asleep, with a dreamy smile.
The next day, he awoke in Meng Tingjing’s arms, glanced at his watch, and exclaimed, “How is it so late!”
Meng Tingjing leaned over. “Late? It’s only eleven. Sleep some more.”
Song Yuzhang laughed wryly. “Forgot? I promised Raymond I’d have lunch at his place. If I go now, it’ll probably be too late.”
Meng Tingjing feigned realization. “Then call him quickly—don’t make him wait.”
Song Yuzhang grabbed the phone. Meng Tingjing’s hand rested lightly on his waist, caressing absentmindedly.
“Hello, Raymond? Yes, it’s me. Sorry, something came up at home. I can’t come for lunch today. Sorry, sorry. Next time I’ll have you over. Okay, see you at school.”
After hanging up, Song Yuzhang lightly smacked Meng Tingjing’s arm with a crisp “pop,” flipped over, straddling him, loosely holding his neck. “You better be honest—did you do that on purpose last night?”
Meng Tingjing placed his hands on Song Yuzhang’s waist. “Why make a crime where none exists?” he said lazily, tilting his head as if ready for execution.
Song Yuzhang was both annoyed and amused. He tightened his grip and bit Meng Tingjing’s lips. “You really are a big jealous pot.”
Meng Tingjing flipped him over, moving with him, locking eyes. “Can’t I be jealous? Don’t I have the right?”
Song Yuzhang paused, helpless. “I never said you can’t be jealous, but you should pick your targets. Those are just kids.”
“Look at them—how are they even like kids?”
Song Yuzhang thought carefully and couldn’t refute it. He smiled, still unconcerned, pinched Meng Tingjing’s cheek, and kissed him on the lips. “Fine, fine—you’re justified. Don’t hold back. Press my back for me…”
Meng Tingjing rang the bell, and the servant brought some simple food. Song Yuzhang half-lounged, squinting, eating while humming happily.
Seeing his self-satisfied look, Meng Tingjing thought, I won’t bring up marriage yet. Looking at him like this, it’s not the right time… There’s plenty of time—slowly, we’ll get there.
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