Song Yuzhang: Chapter 1 - Thief
Chapter 1: Thief
The street was bustling with people, the calls of vendors echoing nonstop. The sesame pancake seller had been at it from morning till night, still left with a few in his basket, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Sesame pancakes—sweet or savory—hot sesame pancakes!” His voice disrupted the twilight glow, making dusk feel neither like evening nor morning.
Fu Mian slipped through the street like a thief. For eighteen years, he had lived as a young master, always walking with his head held high, oblivious to others, followed by a procession of servants. But now, he was sneaking around, cautious and alone—like a thief.
A thief in his own home.
Wary of being followed, burdened by guilt, Fu Mian moved with extreme care. A scarf wrapped around his head, he pressed his back against the walls of the broad street, inching along the edges.
Onlookers who caught sight of him couldn’t help but think—where had this thief come from? They instinctively clutched their money pouches and gave him a wide berth.
Fu Mian kept his head down and walked for a long time, his mind preoccupied with the fear of being pursued. He deliberately took detours, his gaze sharp and alert like a hawk scanning its surroundings. He clutched a thin, small box to his chest, as if his very heart might tumble into the locked container.
At last, he reached the inn. He hurried upstairs, taking the steps two at a time until he reached the room at the farthest end of the third floor. He pushed open the door, unwound his scarf, and tossed it aside. Only then did he finally let out the breath he had been holding. He called softly, “Zhuqing?”
No one answered.
Fu Mian's face paled slightly. His features were delicate and refined, the kind of young master whose beauty was almost fragile. Now, with his complexion drained of color, he truly looked stricken.
“Zhuqing,”
He called again, his legs growing weak as he stepped further inside.
Had Ye Zhuqing left? Had he grown impatient and abandoned him?
The more Fu Mian thought about it, the more terrified he became. He pushed aside the curtain to the inner room and gasped in a mix of relief, anger, and joy when he saw the man lounging on the bed, smoking. His voice trembled with emotion, almost on the verge of tears. “Ye Zhuqing! Why are you just lying there?”
He pouted, a hint of petulance in his tone, his long, curled lashes catching the light like tiny, glistening stars. He really was about to cry.
The pampered young master, spoiled since birth, could not endure the slightest grievance. At home, if he so much as furrowed his brows, a chorus of servants would rush to comfort him. But his lover did not so much as blink. Ye Zhuqing merely lounged with one leg draped over the bed’s edge, a cigarette between his lips, his long fingers absentmindedly twirling two ivory-white mahjong tiles. He smiled slightly at the teary-eyed Fu Mian.
Fu Mian had been ready to throw a tantrum, but with just one smile from Ye Zhuqing, all his anger dissipated into thin air.
Three months ago, the first time Fu Mian had laid eyes on Ye Zhuqing, he had been struck dumb. He had never imagined that such a breathtakingly handsome man could exist in this world. Proud as he was, believing himself both talented and good-looking, he felt a rare sense of dissatisfaction. He wanted to scrutinize Ye Zhuqing’s face, to find even the smallest flaw.
He was good at nitpicking and quickly identified several imperfections—his nose was too high, his eye sockets too deep, his lips too thin, and his cheeks perhaps a bit too narrow. But just as he was picking faults, Ye Zhuqing seemed to sense his gaze and turned to smile at him from across the room.
That smile was dazzling, cutting through his thoughts like wind through leaves. In that instant, Fu Mian felt his soul leave his body. He realized then that the very features he had been criticizing—the high nose, the deep-set eyes, the thin lips—fit together with perfect harmony. Every so-called imperfection only added to the unique charm of that face.
And now, that same alluring face was smiling at him.
The young master, always covered in thorns, instantly softened like silk, falling into Ye Zhuqing’s arms with a spoiled whimper. “You didn't even answer me! I was so worried!”
“Worried about what?” Ye Zhuqing idly flipped the mahjong tiles between his fingers—a ‘One Dot’ and a ‘Red Dragon’—the sound of them clicking together sharp in the quiet room. He chuckled. “Afraid I’d leave you behind and run off alone?”
“Don’t say that—!”
Fu Mian panicked. He couldn’t even bear to hear those words. He threw himself at Ye Zhuqing, clinging tightly. “We agreed, didn’t we? Life or death, we stay together. No one can separate us.”
He clung desperately, terrified beyond words.
Eloping—what a terrifying thing. And to elope with a man, no less. Three months ago, Fu Mian would have never believed he was capable of doing something so shameless.
But he had fallen for this traveling merchant named Ye Zhuqing, madly and irreversibly.
Even though Ye Zhuqing had tried to avoid him, Fu Mian had shamelessly chased him down, confessing his love in the very inn they now stayed in. He had even humbled himself, offering everything, just to win Ye Zhuqing’s affection.
Ye Zhuqing exhaled a lazy puff of smoke, then flicked the mahjong tiles aside and pulled Fu Mian into his arms.
He was a bit taller than Fu Mian, and years of travel had given him a natural air of effortless charm. He was nothing like the delicate young master, who reeked of luxury and indulgence.
Fu Mian lifted his face, eyes shimmering with unspoken desire.
Ye Zhuqing studied him, his expression unreadable, as if he saw right through him yet chose to feign ignorance.
Fu Mian felt a surge of frustration—half anger, half love. He plucked the cigarette from Ye Zhuqing’s lips, leaned in, and pressed a kiss to his mouth, muttering, “You're terrible.”
“First you say you're worried sick, then you say I'm terrible.” Ye Zhuqing laughed lightly. “Which one is it?”
“Hmph, you’re just teasing me on purpose!”
Ye Zhuqing’s amusement faded slightly. “Seeing you worry over me… I have to admit, I like it.”
His face—irresistible when he smiled, breathtaking when he didn’t—made Fu Mian feel as though he could die for him and have no regrets. He couldn't resist leaning in again, softly whispering, “Zhuqing…”
Ye Zhuqing let him peck and nuzzle his lips like a baby bird begging for food. After a while, he calmly pushed Fu Mian away and shook his head. “Not now, A-Mian.”
Fu Mian thought bitterly—how pathetic, throwing himself at someone only to be rejected. But he swallowed his pride and nodded obediently. “I know. We’ll wait until we reach Ye City. We’ll get married first, and then…”
Ye Zhuqing ruffled his hair with a sigh. “A-Mian, the way you love me… I have to cherish you properly.”
Fu Mian had heard those words many times before, and what had once been sweet was now turning into resentment.
He truly wanted to say—what if I don’t want you to cherish me, but want you to ruin me instead?
But he couldn’t say it out loud.
Ye Zhuqing was a refined gentleman. The fact that he was willing to elope with him was already difficult enough. He even promised to marry him, to make him his rightful spouse. Fu Mian worried that Ye Zhuqing’s family might disapprove, but Ye Zhuqing had said that in his family, no one had the authority to dictate his choices.
That unwavering determination and masculine confidence had Fu Mian utterly enthralled.
Ye Zhuqing loved him. He cherished him.
There was a long life ahead of them, and he would have plenty of time to let Ye Zhuqing ‘ruin’ him.
Fu Mian chuckled secretly in Ye Zhuqing’s arms. After laughing for a while, he suddenly remembered something important. Carefully, he took out the locked box from his chest. “Zhuqing, I’ve brought our future with me.”
Ye Zhuqing glanced at the wooden box, his brows furrowing. “What is this?”
“You don’t need to worry about it.” Fu Mian nestled deeper into his embrace. “With this, we won’t have to be afraid no matter where we go.”
“You stole money from your family?”
“Of course not!”
Gold and silver were too heavy to carry, and US dollars were hard to obtain these days. Even if he managed to bring some, how much could he carry? Naturally, he had to bring something that could generate wealth.
He was the young master of the Fu family. How could he elope with Ye Zhuqing empty-handed? Wouldn’t that mean he would have to rely entirely on Ye Zhuqing for support in the future?
He wasn’t about to let that happen.
He wanted Ye Zhuqing to love him, but also to respect him.
“I took the family’s medicinal formulas.” Fu Mian couldn’t resist sharing his great achievement with his beloved. “With these exclusive secret recipes, I can open a shop in Ye City and build a grand business empire.”
Ye Zhuqing’s frown deepened, his tone serious. “No, A-Mian. These formulas are worth a fortune, and they are your family’s exclusive legacy. If you use them to open a shop, how could you face your father?”
“What’s there to be afraid of?”
Fu Mian lifted his brows, his radiant face full of confidence. “Ye City is a thousand miles away from here. It won’t affect anything here.”
“This isn’t right, A-Mian. I can support you.”
“I don’t need you to support me.”
Fu Mian pouted. “I’m not a woman.”
Ye Zhuqing chuckled and spoke gently. “That has nothing to do with whether you’re a man or a woman.”
“I don’t care.” Fu Mian clutched the box tightly and lifted his head with determination. “Don’t treat me like some sheltered housewife. I won’t be a kept man relying entirely on you.”
Ye Zhuqing pinched his cheek and gave him a light kiss on the lips. “Rest assured, I know you’re an ambitious young man.”
“As long as you know…” Fu Mian mumbled, though deep down, he thought—he was indeed ambitious, yet he spent his days fantasizing about when Ye Zhuqing would finally ‘ruin’ him. Every day, his thoughts ran wild. What kind of ambition was that? He really was hopeless.
The two had already purchased tickets for a midnight boat, so they stayed at the inn to rest and regain their strength. Ye Zhuqing ordered a table full of fine dishes and wine, but Fu Mian, too anxious to eat, watched as Ye Zhuqing ate at an unhurried pace, his appetite seemingly unaffected. Fu Mian grumbled, “You’re so heartless.”
Ye Zhuqing smiled. “We’re about to start a new life. I’m happy, so of course, I have an appetite.”
Fu Mian still couldn’t relax. His heart pounded erratically, as if something bad was about to happen. To calm his nerves, he kept drinking. His alcohol tolerance wasn’t great, and tonight, the wine seemed particularly strong. After a few cups, he tried to stand but felt his legs give out. Reaching out, he murmured, “Zhuqing, I feel dizzy…”
A firm arm caught him, and he collapsed against a solid, yet supple chest. The faint, fresh scent of Ye Zhuqing’s body made him momentarily intoxicated in a different way. Caught up in his daze, he blurted out something he normally wouldn’t dare say, “Zhuqing, I’m begging you… ruin me…”
It seemed like Ye Zhuqing chuckled.
Fu Mian thought he heard a response near his ear, and then suddenly, he was lifted into the air. He felt like he was floating on clouds.
Ye Zhuqing gently placed him on the bed, gazing down at him with tender eyes as he lay there, his cheeks flushed from intoxication.
The pampered young master looked irresistibly endearing in his drunken state.
Such a charming little wretch.
Ye Zhuqing regretfully kissed his lips. The young master murmured in his sleep, instinctively responding, clearly unable to forget his lover even in dreams.
In his dream, Fu Mian was kissing Ye Zhuqing, thoroughly enjoying himself. Just as things were about to escalate, a sudden sinking sensation pulled at the back of his head, as if he were about to fall into a river. Alarmed, he immediately opened his eyes, jolting awake from his dream. Sunlight streamed through the window—it was already broad daylight. Damn! Panic surged through him. “Zhuqing!”
He threw off the blanket to search for him, but in the process, he realized—he wasn’t wearing any clothes. Scanning the room, he found no trace of his clothes. But he didn’t care about that now. They had missed the boat!
"Zhuqing—" Fu Mian was on the verge of tears. He jumped out of bed and ran toward the outer room, shouting, "Why didn’t you wake me up? What time is it? The boat’s gone! What do we do now? You really—you’re going to drive me crazy!"
No one answered him.
Fu Mian actually started crying. At a time like this, Ye Zhuqing was still playing games with him!
As he walked toward the outer room, he fumed inwardly—this time, no matter what, he would make Ye Zhuqing put in real effort to coax him before he forgave him!
But when he reached the outer room, he still couldn’t find Ye Zhuqing.
The table was still set with last night’s food, now cold and stale, filling the air with the smell of leftovers. Two wine cups sat facing each other, and beneath one of them, two pale, unclaimed boat tickets lay pressed against the wood.
Thirty miles away at the docks, a man in a meticulously tailored suit stood with a hat low over his face, revealing only the lower half. From the bridge of his nose to the curve of his lips, his features formed a smooth, elegant line. A crisp white shirt peeked out from under the smoky-gray coat sleeves, and between his polished black leather gloves, a sliver of exposed skin gleamed with a luminous glow.
"The box is real, but the prescriptions inside…"
“Boss Tang, we had an agreement. My job was only to take the box and give it to you.”
“Relax. I, Tang Jin, am a man of my word.”
The inconspicuous wooden chest was stuffed with cash. The man picked it up, preparing to board the ship, but Tang Jin called out to him.
Hesitation flickered across Tang Jin’s face. He stared at the thin lips visible beneath the brim of the hat and spoke softly, “You’re really leaving just like that?”
“I don’t think A-Mian would ever want to see me again.”
“Don’t tell me you actually…”
“Boss Tang, farewell.”
Seeing the man turn to leave, Tang Jin couldn’t hold back and stepped forward. “Can you at least tell me your real name?”
The man paused briefly before answering in a low, steady voice, “Ma, from the Ma family of East City.”
That was enough. That was all he needed. There was a long road ahead—Tang Jin knew he was heading for East City. Once he had finished bringing down the Fu family, he would go find him. Fu Mian? He was nothing.
“Until we meet again, Mr. Ma.”
Mr. Ma disappeared from the sight of his employer, Boss Tang. As he walked away, he casually removed his hat, shed his outer coat, and pulled a pair of tea-colored sunglasses from his pocket, setting them on the bridge of his nose. Blending into the crowd heading toward East City, he arrived at the docks of Haizhou and intercepted a passenger, buying their ticket at the last moment. Once onboard, he paid extra to upgrade to a first-class cabin.
A steward on the ship greeted him enthusiastically, “Sir, you’re really lucky—this was the last available first-class room. Let me carry your suitcase for you.”
The man, still looking down, shifted the suitcase aside with a flick of his hand. “No need.”
He handed the steward a banknote. “Bring me a good bottle of wine. Keep the rest as a tip.”
“Of course. May I ask for your name, sir?”
The man adjusted his sunglasses with a single finger, pushed open the door to his cabin, and turned back with a faint smile. The steward was momentarily dazzled, struck by a sudden wave of dizziness, as if he had been hit over the head.
“My surname is Song.”
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