Song Yuzhang: Chapter 8 - Old Clothes
Chapter 8: Old Clothes
Chen Hanmin practically grew roots at Song Yuzhang’s bedside, willingly becoming his little servant. Though he had never properly attended to anyone before, he genuinely wanted to care for Song Yuzhang, putting on an attitude of tireless devotion. Song Yuzhang wasn’t the type to make things difficult for others on purpose. Whenever Chen Hanmin brought him tea or water, he would smile warmly and say in a gentle voice, “Thank you.” Chen Hanmin found endless joy in this and insisted on keeping watch overnight.
“There’s nothing to do at night. You should go get some sleep,” Song Yuzhang said.
His body wasn’t fragile, and he was gradually regaining his energy. He gently stroked Chen Hanmin’s dark hair and said softly, “You’re tired, too.”
“I’m not tired,” Chen Hanmin murmured, leaning against him affectionately. “At dawn, we’ll be docking…”
Hearing his words, Song Yuzhang understood that Chen Hanmin was reluctant to part with this thrilling, fleeting romance. Song Yuzhang, on the other hand, had no particular sentiment about it. His only thought was to leave Haizhou as soon as he disembarked. How had someone come to know his real name? He had no recollection of that person at all, and it wasn’t exactly something he could ask them directly. Instead, he had to comb through his memories, sifting through the lovers who had once known his true name.
There weren’t many. They were all people he had known when he was young and foolish—youths just like him. His memories of them were vague, and he couldn’t recall their faces.
Fortunately, after seeing how close he was with Chen Hanmin, that person had not appeared again—perhaps out of anger. Life had a strange way of playing tricks, making it so that an old acquaintance ended up saving his life.
Song Yuzhang sighed internally, thinking that from now on, he should be more careful. He couldn’t afford to break people’s hearts too carelessly—who knew when he might need the favor of an old flame again?
“Come up here.” Song Yuzhang patted Chen Hanmin’s shoulder, intending to first warm the heart of the man before him.
Chen Hanmin blushed. After days under the sun, his once fair complexion had turned dark, his skin a deep shade of tan with a flush of red underneath. He looked both sunburned and bashful. “Is this really okay? You’re still sick…”
Song Yuzhang chuckled. “Baby, I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable sitting there. I’m telling you to come up here and sleep.” He pinched Chen Hanmin’s reddened cheek and whispered teasingly, “You little minx, what are you thinking?”
Embarrassed, Chen Hanmin laughed. Since Song Yuzhang knew him inside and out, he didn’t feel too ashamed. Quickly, he took off his shoes, climbed onto the bed, and happily lay down beside Song Yuzhang. Resting against his shoulder, he lay quietly for a while before murmuring, “It really feels like a dream.” He shivered slightly and leaned even closer, breathing in Song Yuzhang’s scent—it was still salty. “Talking to you like this, I finally feel like I truly escaped death.”
His thoughts echoed Song Yuzhang’s own. Song Yuzhang said nothing, only feeling a quiet peace in his heart. After a moment, he suddenly chuckled and said, “Do I smell?”
Chen Hanmin had been sniffing him like a little puppy. Song Yuzhang wasn’t particularly fastidious—he was quite the easygoing man. Right now, he was still weak and had only had a bit of water and porridge, leaving him with little energy to clean himself up. He wasn’t the vain type, so he hadn’t paid much attention to it. But if his smell was bothering others, that wasn’t ideal.
“I’ll go wash up.”
Song Yuzhang made a motion to get out of bed.
Chen Hanmin clung to his waist and wouldn’t let go. “You’ve misunderstood me—I didn’t mean it like that at all.”
“It’s fine,” Song Yuzhang patted his hand. “I do feel uncomfortable. And since we’ll be docking soon, I can’t exactly get off the ship smelling bad.”
The ship’s bathroom was quite good—not much worse than the one on the Peony. With just a twist, hot water flowed freely. Chen Hanmin prepared the bath for Song Yuzhang, worried that the heat might make him faint, and stood guard in the bathroom as he bathed.
Song Yuzhang was noticeably thinner now. His back muscles were long and lean, his shoulder blades slightly pronounced. This escape from death had left its mark on his body.
Soaking in the warm, clean water, Song Yuzhang finally felt the grime and exhaustion leaving him. As the heat seeped into his skin, he let his body relax completely, his eyes closing as he slowly slid lower into the tub. The water rippled softly, and at the same time, Chen Hanmin’s heart trembled.
Song Yuzhang was truly beautiful. Even in weakness, he was beautiful. His face—how could it be so perfect? The phrase ‘graceful in both light and heavy makeup’ came to Chen Hanmin’s mind, and his heart overflowed with admiration. He held back for as long as he could, but in the end, he couldn’t resist. Heart pounding, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Song Yuzhang’s cheek. Without opening his eyes, Song Yuzhang simply smiled. “Don’t mess with me.”
Chen Hanmin giggled softly before being shooed away by Song Yuzhang. “Go find me some clothes.”
Given this small task, Chen Hanmin happily ran off.
The ship belonged to Meng Tingjing, but Chen Hanmin didn’t feel too restrained. He asked a crew member for some clean clothes, and the crew member led him to get some. Even in the dead of night, the ship was still lively. Those who had survived the disaster refused to sleep, instead gathering to share their harrowing experiences. Chen Hanmin paid no attention to their conversations. As soon as he got the clothes, he left.
He was thinking only of Song Yuzhang.
However, he messed up the task.
The clothes didn’t fit—they were too small.
Annoyed, Chen Hanmin said, “It’s my fault for not explaining properly. He must have thought they were for me. Wait here, I’ll go find another set.”
“Go on,” Song Yuzhang said, already stepping out of the tub, water streaming down his body. “I’ll wait for you.”
Drying himself off with a towel, he felt his own weakness keenly. He had to pause between strokes, resting as he wiped himself down. Thankfully, the weather wasn’t too cold. Once he was dry, he grabbed a robe from the bathroom and threw it on loosely.
The little bit of porridge in his stomach had been completely depleted after the bath. Feeling drained, he climbed onto the bed and, the moment he lay down, slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Meanwhile, Chen Hanmin, having been careless at first, now became overly meticulous in his task. As the crew handed him different garments, he became increasingly picky—not just about size but even about the style. This led to a small argument.
“Sir, we’re here to save lives, not carry around fancy clothes. Aren’t you being a little unreasonable?”
“I just need something that fits.”
“Aren’t these all fine?”
Realizing he was being unreasonable, Chen Hanmin quickly grabbed something that seemed good enough and hurried back. As he walked, he found himself thinking—Song Yuzhang seemed to have a way of getting into his head, subtly influencing his thoughts. The realization both alarmed and thrilled him. Maybe… maybe he was truly in love with Song Yuzhang.
This little drama quickly made its way to Meng Tingjing’s ears.
The sea was pitch black. Meng Tingjing sat night fishing with one leg crossed, listening as the crew recounted events in full detail. Throughout, his expression remained impassive. When they finished, he let out a laugh. It was dark, so the crew couldn’t see his face clearly, but even from the sound of his laughter alone, they could tell that the young master’s smile was the kind that spelled trouble.
“Aren’t there two sets of my clothes on board? Send him one.”
The crew member’s mouth fell open in surprise. He cautiously confirmed, “Which one?”
“Any will do.”
The crew member turned to leave but then heard Meng Tingjing add, “A lighter-colored one.”
At dawn the next day, as Chen Hanmin was helping Song Yuzhang button his shirt, a crew member knocked on the door, delivering a set of ‘fine clothing.’
Chen Hanmin was embarrassed about his outburst the previous night, hastily took the clothes, and shut the door.
“Why are you changing again?”
Song Yuzhang had only half put on his shirt, leaving it loosely draped over his shoulders. Chen Hanmin, face flushed, handed him the new outfit. “This one looks nice.”
It was indeed a fine set of clothes. Judging by its appearance, it seemed to be secondhand—softened from washing, neatly styled, and well-tailored. When Song Yuzhang put it on, he found the fit was fairly close, though the waist was a bit loose, and the pant legs felt somewhat baggy. But for a ready-made outfit, it fit surprisingly well. He stood before the bathroom mirror, took a look, and agreed—it did look good.
Get off the ship with dignity, then slip away—that was Song Yuzhang’s plan.
Chen Hanmin was unaware of this. His fingers brushed over Song Yuzhang’s collar as he gazed at him, entranced. “Mr. Song, you look beautiful.”
Song Yuzhang chuckled, bent his index finger, and lightly tapped it against Chen Hanmin’s forehead. “Little black charcoal.”
Chen Hanmin’s face turned red with nervousness. “Am I really that dark?”
Song Yuzhang patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry. A man can be a little dark.”
They chatted for a while longer in the cabin. With the mindset of a man about to lose a love, Chen Hanmin kissed Song Yuzhang again and again, knowing that once they disembarked, many things would change. He was determined to cherish these last moments.
When the crew announced that they were nearing shore, Chen Hanmin had to leave first. His family would surely be waiting at the dock—if they saw anything amiss, his reputation for innocence would be ruined. He wouldn’t be able to hold his head up in Haizhou again.
Song Yuzhang waved at him with a smile, feeling no attachment whatsoever. Chen Hanmin was far too dark now—he had lost interest.
The only things on his mind were two matters. One was his trunk of money. After the crew retrieved it from the sea, how much would he actually get back? Would the bank even accept it? It was all uncertain, though not something to dwell on too much. If a fortune was lost, it could be regained—he certainly had the ability to earn it all back. The second was his fair and handsome former lover, who had vanished like a fleeting bloom, leaving him feeling uneasy.
Still, despite that lingering thought, it didn’t dampen his spirits in the slightest. Nothing in the world mattered more to Song Yuzhang than himself. He had survived unscathed, without so much as a scratch, and even gained a fine new outfit. He lowered his head, took a light sniff—the clothes smelled pleasant. Naturally, he was in a fine mood.
The survivors flooded out of the cabin onto the deck, gazing toward the shore. Song Yuzhang lingered at the back of the crowd but soon lost interest. He turned away and strolled to the far side of the ship, lazily leaning against the railing to watch the sea and the rising sun.
After days adrift at sea, he had almost come to loathe the sight of the sun. But now that rescue was at hand, his mood had shifted. Staring at the golden light, he suddenly craved a pair of fried eggs, perfectly browned on both sides.
“Fits well.”
Song Yuzhang turned around. His old lover stood behind him, dressed just as finely as he was. His face was pale, his eyes particularly dark, and he was smiling.
Song Yuzhang had recovered during his time on the ship—both in body and spirit. He took a brief look at the man and quickly understood. He smiled back. “Yours?”
Meng Tingjing nodded, hands in his pockets, his posture carrying a natural air of arrogance. He was strikingly fair-skinned and handsome, like an untouchable leading man from a movie. “Looks quite good on you.”
Song Yuzhang laughed. “Since it’s your clothing, of course it looks good.” His tone carried an effortless warmth, betraying not the slightest hint that he had completely forgotten this man’s name.
Meng Tingjing remained motionless, the muscles in his back subtly tensing. He realized that conversing with Song Yuzhang required a certain level of both courage and vigilance. There was something aggressive about his face, his smile, and even his voice—like he was deliberately trying to break people down, to tame them into submission.
Meng Tingjing met this challenge head-on, flashing a wicked grin.
The moment he did, Song Yuzhang’s smile faltered. His mind raced: This guy’s smile is downright sinister. Is he… trying to flirt with me?
But he was too drained to deal with it. He reined in his expression and turned his gaze back to the sea with quiet elegance.
Seeing this silent surrender, Meng Tingjing was satisfied. He withdrew his smile, but his gaze lingered for a moment on Song Yuzhang’s waist.
So slender.
That slim waist looked so delicate, it seemed like he could snap it in half with just a bit of force.
Lost in this idle thought of breaking Song Yuzhang in two, Meng Tingjing turned and walked away. Only when the sound of his footsteps had faded did Song Yuzhang glance back at the now-empty space behind him. He let out a quiet sigh and rested a hand on his waist.
Sorry to disappoint.
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