Song Yuzhang: Chapter 14 - Anger
Chapter 14: Anger
“Fifth Young Master, Second Young Master Meng, the eldest young master invites you both downstairs for a chat.”
Wan Lan's crisp voice rang out clearly, reaching both men inside the room. While Meng Tingjing hesitated, the man he had by the throat, Song Yuzhang, was unexpectedly calm and simply responded, “Coming right away.”
Meng Tingjing immediately shot him a glare.
Song Yuzhang remained the same as ever, smiling, though with a hint of helplessness. “Let's head down first. Since my eldest brother has called us, we can talk later.”
Meng Tingjing found it hard to believe how composed Song Yuzhang was. But then again, if this man didn't have some level of cunning, how could he dare claim the name ‘Song Yuzhang’ so nonchalantly, without a single flaw in his act? At the docks, he had conversed with Song Mingzhao seamlessly, showing no signs of fear.
Meng Tingjing's expression shifted several times before he finally flung his sleeve and let go.
Once freed, Song Yuzhang touched his neck—not feeling any pain but unable to hold back a smile.
Meng Tingjing looked at him with displeasure. “What are you laughing at?”
“Then why did you choke me?”
“When I ask you a question, you answer!”
Song Yuzhang lowered his hand and looked at Meng Tingjing’s still-angry face, suppressing his amusement as he spoke solemnly. “I laugh…” He stepped toward the door, pulling it open before finishing his sentence, “...because you look rather good when you're angry.”
With that, he slipped away, descending the stairs at an unhurried yet brisk pace. As he walked, he shook his head. What was wrong with that pretty-faced young master? Was he angry over the misunderstanding back on the ship? That Song Yuzhang had taken their interactions as something else and acted improperly? That hardly seemed enough to spark such fury. Back on the ship, he hadn’t been angry at all—so why storm in so suddenly now?
Downstairs, Song Yuzhang was led by a servant to the guest hall. The Song family was gathered there, along with a beautiful woman seated beside Song Jincheng.
“Your sister-in-law,” Song Jincheng said.
“Sister-in-law,” Song Yuzhang greeted.
Meng Sushan was momentarily stunned upon seeing Song Yuzhang. When she came back to her senses, a blush crept up her face. “So you’re the fifth brother? You look really good.”
Adhering to his usual reserved nature, Song Yuzhang simply smiled and nodded before taking his seat.
“Where’s Tingjing?” Song Jincheng glanced toward the corridor.
Song Yuzhang remained silent. A servant poured him tea, and he murmured a soft “Thank you.”
“What was Tingjing talking to you about upstairs?” Song Mingzhao asked.
“Nothing much.”
Song Mingzhao chuckled. “Looks like you two got along well during those two days at sea. He sought you out as soon as he arrived.”
“Really?” Song Qiyuan crossed one leg over the other and glanced at Song Yuzhang. “Fifth Brother, impressive—already making friends so quickly.”
“Who said I was his friend?”
Meng Tingjing’s voice cut through the air. The Song family turned toward him as he entered the room with an indifferent expression and a polite smile. “I’d say I’m more like his lifesaver, wouldn’t you agree, Brother Yuzhang?”
“Tingjing, you really…” Meng Sushan let out a small laugh.
Meng Tingjing maintained his calm façade as he sat beside Song Yuzhang, as if nothing had happened upstairs. “Wouldn't you say so, Brother Yuzhang?”
Song Yuzhang held his teacup and nodded slightly. “Whatever Brother Tingjing says is right.”
It was evident that Meng Tingjing was well-regarded in the Song family. What was meant to be a conversation between him and Song Yuzhang had turned into an occasion where Meng Tingjing took center stage while Song Yuzhang remained on the sidelines.
“I heard you also saved the Chen family’s young master?”
“Yes, he was returning from France and was on the Peony as well.”
“That’s quite a coincidence. You’ve saved your future brother-in-law, then.”
“That’s not set in stone yet.”
Meng Tingjing crossed one leg over the other, his shoe seemingly brushing against Song Yuzhang’s trouser leg by chance. “What do you think, Brother Yuzhang?”
Song Yuzhang kept his posture steady, hands still around his teacup. Without so much as a twitch, he replied, “Matters of marriage should be left to the matchmaker.”
After a bit more casual conversation, it was time for Song Jincheng to see the guests off. Meng Tingjing, however, was reluctant to leave. After a brief back-and-forth, Song Yuzhang suddenly said, “Eldest Brother, let me see him off.” He turned to Meng Tingjing with a warm and open smile. “After all, he is my lifesaver.”
The Song residence was large, and the parking area was quite a walk from the main hall. As they walked across the soft grass, Song Yuzhang felt a slight pang of sympathy. “Brother Tingjing.”
Meng Tingjing ignored him.
“Are you angry with me because of Brother Hanmin?”
Song Yuzhang cast a sidelong glance at him. Even in the dim night, Meng Tingjing’s profile remained cold and distant.
“Brother Tingjing?”
Meng Tingjing continued his silence, striding forward with long steps. It wasn’t until they reached the car that he finally turned his head, eyes locked onto Song Yuzhang’s face as if trying to carve something into his memory. “Tomorrow at ten in the morning, I’ll come pick you up.”
Song Yuzhang paused for a moment, then bent down and opened the car door for him. “I should be the one picking you up instead.”
Meng Tingjing scoffed. “Stop talking nonsense. Ten o’clock.”
Song Yuzhang admitted he had a mischievous streak. When it came to these haughty young masters, he found endless amusement in teasing them. He pressed his lips together, suppressing a grin. “And what if I don’t agree?”
Meng Tingjing’s face darkened, and he looked as if he wanted nothing more than to grab Song Yuzhang by the collar, shove him into the car, and drive straight to the docks to toss him back into the sea.
“Do you dare?” Meng Tingjing’s voice was cold.
Song Yuzhang’s smile deepened. “Oh, I don’t dare.”
Yet even with Song Yuzhang’s apparent submission, Meng Tingjing didn’t feel victorious at all. Instead, he had the distinct sensation that he was being toyed with. The angrier he got, the more entertained Song Yuzhang seemed.
This man truly didn’t know his place!
Meng Tingjing’s chest heaved, and just before getting into the car, he couldn't resist—he shot Song Yuzhang a fierce glare.
Song Yuzhang, ever composed, gently closed the car door for him. “See you tomorrow, Brother Tingjing.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Meng Tingjing’s expression twisted again, as if he was about to jump out of the window and grab him back. Seeing his awkward yet amusing demeanor, Song Yuzhang couldn’t help but chuckle.
That laugh nearly cost Meng Tingjing a whole night’s sleep. He tossed and turned in bed, tormented by the thought that he had made a fool of himself.
In the morning, he couldn’t stomach a single bite. With a face so dark it could drip water, he left for the docks on an empty stomach. Once he arrived, he cursed at everything in sight—workers, crates, even the waterbirds perched along the shore. The birds took flight, startled by his outburst.
After venting all his pent-up anger, Meng Tingjing finally sat in his office, eating a sweet sesame pancake from a seasoned dockside vendor. The pancake had a crisp, golden edge, and with each bite, the syrup and toasted sesame melded together in perfect harmony.
Realistically, he didn’t have to be this angry.
None of the four Song brothers had seen through the imposter.
So, really, it wasn’t his fault—it was that bastard’s fault for being too good at acting. If he hadn’t spoken up, who knew how long the deception would have lasted?
Meng Tingjing slowly nibbled on his pancake, contemplating. If he had kept quiet, what would have happened? That ‘Song Yuzhang’ wouldn’t have lasted long anyway. The Song brothers would surely make his life unbearable. After all, he wasn’t their real brother, nor did he eat Song family’s food.
But if that bastard ever slipped up, he himself would be humiliated alongside him. The confusion of the Song family’s bloodline was one thing, but Meng Tingjing making a mess of the situation was much worse.
Maybe he should just find an excuse to lure him out to the countryside and get rid of him. The streets were chaotic these days—random gunfire was a common occurrence. Song family would probably be glad to be rid of him. No one would care.
It had to be done carefully, though. No more mistakes. Meng Tingjing wiped the sugar crumbs from his lips with a handkerchief. As he indulged in his violent thoughts, he oddly found himself at peace, his expression as sweet as the pancake he was eating.
Even though he had already decided to quietly get rid of Song Yuzhang, Meng Tingjing still showed up at the Song residence on time to pick him up. Not a second late. He didn’t step out of the car. Instead, he sent the driver in to call for him. The driver hurried inside and returned just as quickly. “Young Master, Miss Wan Lan said Fifth Young Master Song isn’t home. He left early in the morning.”
Meng Tingjing’s face remained cold, but strangely, he didn’t feel any anger. “Then back to the docks,” he said calmly.
On the way back, his mind was numb—one moment, it was like a thunderclap, the next, a dull blade slicing through him. It was the kind of fury so overwhelming that it had burned itself out.
He had to die.
And he had to die painfully.
Meng Tingjing stared blankly ahead, so lost in thought that he was on the verge of madness.
“Whoa—”
The driver suddenly called out, “Young Master, isn’t that Fifth Young Master Song?”
Like an owl spotting prey in the dead of night, Meng Tingjing’s sharp eyes followed the driver’s direction.
By midday, the docks were even livelier than in the morning. Ships docked, ships set sail, workers unloaded cargo—shirtless men carried crates, their bronzed skin glistening under the sun. Among them stood a tall, lean figure, engaged in conversation. Then, as if proving a point, he lifted a crate onto his shoulder and tested its weight before breaking into a laugh.
“I'm not as strong as you guys, but I've got a little strength.”
Song Yuzhang grinned as he helped the workers set the crate aside, then dusted off his hands and turned toward the car. Seeing Meng Tingjing standing there, he waved.
Meng Tingjing’s face darkened, his expression unreadable. He turned and strode toward his office.
Song Yuzhang clasped his hands behind his back and followed.
Everyone at the docks watched them.
Seeing Young Master Meng wasn’t unusual. Seeing an angry Young Master Meng wasn’t unusual either. But seeing an angry Young Master Meng being followed by a smiling, elegant man? That was rare.
Song Yuzhang leisurely trailed after Meng Tingjing. Watching the way he carried himself—graceful, yet sharp—he chuckled softly. Like a thorned rose, beautiful but dangerous.
People like that were fun to tease. But he wouldn’t get too close. He had no interest in getting pricked.
Meng Tingjing’s office was positioned high, accessed by a short flight of stairs, much like a seaside watchtower. Inside, a large window provided a sweeping, sunlit view of the ocean.
“Close the door.”
Song Yuzhang reached for the door but paused. He turned back with a playful smile. “If I close it, you won’t try to strangle me again, will you?”
Meng Tingjing’s gaze flickered to his neck—brief, like a dragonfly skimming the water. No marks.
“Why weren’t you at the Song estate?”
“I went to the bank with my eldest brother this morning. Lost track of time. By the time I rushed back home, I had already missed you. I called your house, but the servant said you were at the docks. Since the bank is closer to the docks, I hurried over to meet you… but I was still too late.” Song Yuzhang shut the door with a gentle click. His voice was slow, his tone soft and apologetic. “That was my mistake. I owe you an apology.”
Since last night, Meng Tingjing had been like a balloon, filling up with uncontrollable rage, unable to find release. His shouting at the docks had only suppressed it temporarily. Missing Song Yuzhang at the Song estate had doubled it again. And now…Now, somehow, that anger was deflating. Irrationally, inexplicably, he felt a bit better.
Song Yuzhang stepped a little closer. Meng Tingjing caught the faint scent of him—clean, fresh, no longer carrying the traces of his old clothes.
“Tingjing,” Song Yuzhang dropped the polite ‘brother’ from his address and murmured in a low voice, “Don’t be mad at me anymore.”
Meng Tingjing stood still, silent. After a long pause, he scoffed softly.
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