You talk too much.
The next morning, before Zhang Chenglin had even finished breakfast, Ji Yuxing arrived at his house: "Mr. Sheng, why did you call us so early?"
Ji Yuxing yawned as he spoke, looking like he hadn't woken up at all.
"Have you had breakfast?" Zhang Chenglin asked, turning to him after taking a sip of soy milk.
"No, I'm lucky to be able to get up, let alone have time for breakfast," Ji Yuxing said, looking dejected and half-dead.
"Let's eat together," Zhang Chenglin gestured to the servants to get bowls and chopsticks for Ji Yuxing.
Ji Yuxing glanced at Zhang Chenglin, puzzled: "How can you eat anything after getting up so early?"
"Otherwise what?" Zhang Chenglin looked at him like he was an idiot, finishing the last half of the fried dough stick: "Are you waiting to starve to death?"
Ji Yuxing: "..."
When Zhang Chenglin and Ji Yuxing arrived at Tan Yuanbo's house, it was only six o'clock, but the lights were on in Tan Yuanbo's house.
It's like celebrating the Chinese New Year.
Ji Yuxing clicked his tongue in amazement: "As expected of Lao Tan, he really knows how to enjoy life."
At the meeting, Sheng Dongsheng got straight to the point: "I'm leaving for Shanghai at noon today, so I had no choice but to call you all here so early."
"The superior's deployment documents have been distributed to the heads of each region. I have also informed Tan Yuanbo of your arrangements. You should prepare to go to Shanghai with Tan Yuanbo tomorrow night. He will inform you of the subsequent arrangements later."
"This mission in Shanghai is very challenging. I suggest you reassure your families before you leave," Sheng Dongsheng said, sighing. After all, the area is full of all sorts of people, and you never know what might happen.
“What’s there to appease?” Tan Yuanbo glanced at Zhang Chenglin, Ji Yuxing, and Zhou Zhu, and said meaningfully, “Three old bachelors.”
“Hey, you can’t say that,” Ji Yuxing said with a smile. “That’s not good for unity.”
“Besides,” Ji Yuxing changed the subject, sitting a little further away from Zhang Chenglin, “you can talk about them, but why bring me into this? I’m married.”
Tan Yuanbo glanced at him but didn't say anything.
Sheng Dongsheng noticed Tan Yuanbo's gloomy gaze and looked at Ji Yuxing with a half-smile:
You talk too much.
Ji Yuxing: "..." Can't I even speak the truth?
Sheng Dongsheng got straight to the point and spoke for over an hour. After he finished, he didn't even have time to give any instructions before rushing off to the train station.
Zhang Chenglin was kept behind for a talk by Tan Yuanbo, while Ji Yuxing and Zhou Zhu left first to go home and pack their luggage for Shanghai.
"The situation in Shanghai this time is actually not that tense or serious. It's just that those people think it's too serious. There's nothing we can do about it, we're in the same boat as them," Tan Yuanbo said in his courtyard, a military cloak draped over his shoulders and a cigarette between his fingers. "This matter is a major political and economic issue for the country, and a family matter for Jiang Yuanxing."
Tan Yuanbo paused suddenly as he spoke, then continued, "It's also your family matter."
“The Kuomintang side has Jiang Rusu leading the way, but he is Jiang Guanyu’s biological father, so there are definitely many things that he can’t do on the day. The communication with the Kuomintang side will most likely be through his subordinates.” Tan Yuanbo looked up at the increasingly bright sky and the increasingly heavy snow, reached out from under his cloak to catch some, and slowly crushed it. He then said, “But you are different. You can enter the Jiang family’s inner circle and don’t have to show your face all the time, which is much more convenient for you than for Jiang Rusu.”
Zhang Chenglin stood less than a step behind Tan Yuanbo. Hearing Tan Yuanbo's words, his eyes flickered, but he said nothing.
Jiang Guanyu's marriage is directly related to him... or rather, Jiang Yuanxing's family affairs are all directly related to him—whether it's true or not, that's how it appears to outsiders.
He had long anticipated being used as a pawn, and he was prepared for his identity and connections to be used to talk to Chiang Yuan-hsing or other members of the Kuomintang.
But he never expected that instead of using him as a pawn, they would use him as a target.
If he were to act in the Chiang family's inner circle, the Communists would definitely keep a close eye on him, the Kuomintang's covetousness towards him would be made public, and all sorts of other people who wanted to kill him would not let this opportunity pass.
Having not heard Zhang Chenglin speak, Tan Yuanbo glanced at him. Zhang Chenglin's lowered eyes betrayed his emotions, and Tan Yuanbo knew exactly what he was thinking.
“That’s how the organization arranged it, and that’s how Mr. Sheng conveyed it,” Tan Yuanbo said, then changed the subject, “But Mr. Sheng and I both feel that this is inappropriate, at least it’s unfair to you.”
Zhang Chenglin suddenly looked up at him, waiting for him to continue.
“So Mr. Sheng and I have decided that you should focus on making arrangements behind the scenes. We will only let you come forward when absolutely necessary. After all, it is still up to you to liaise with Jiang Yuanxing’s people and the Kuomintang people.” Tan Yuanbo turned slightly and patted Zhang Chenglin’s shoulder, who was wearing a military uniform. “Mr. Sheng explained the situation to his superiors and it has been approved.”
"So don't worry, just do what you're supposed to do on that day."
The last sentence is a reassurance.
But Tan Yuanbo had been on the battlefield for a long time and didn't know how to speak softly, so even his attempts at comfort sounded like commands.
"Hmm." After hearing Tan Yuanbo's words, Zhang Chenglin seemed to utter a syllable from his nose as a response.
Tan Yuanbo glanced sideways, but knowing Zhang Chenglin's temperament, he didn't say anything more.
*
After leaving Tan Yuanbo's house, Zhang Chenglin went straight to Huayuelou.
The Flower Moon Pavilion was bustling with singing and dancing, and dazzling neon lights.
Zhang Chenglin stood in the lobby of Huayuelou, gazing at the "grand scene" before him, momentarily lost in thought.
Some people are born into a quagmire, and they do their best to save those around them who are just as trapped in the quagmire, attempting to use their own hands to restore a prosperous and bright future for themselves.
Some people are born into wealth and luxury, never experiencing the hardships of life. Even if they spend their days drinking and having fun, it doesn't matter to them, because they believe they have many more tomorrows to come.
Zhang Chenglin was momentarily dazed, so what was he protecting? What was he and countless others like him desperately pursuing?
Is this a peaceful and prosperous era?
Was it the splendid Ming Dynasty?
Or is it the revelry of countless people?
There is no solution to this problem at the moment.
Some people spend their entire lives without finding the answer to this question.
He dared not hope that he would witness the final answer to this question, but only hoped that he could contribute his meager strength to the answer of that "peaceful and prosperous world".
This is what he and countless others have been seeking.
"gentlemen."
He didn't know when Fengyue had come downstairs and was standing in front of him.
As I have done many times before, I deliberately softened my tone and spoke with tenderness when I called him "sir".
It makes people feel as if they have offered their whole heart to him.
Zhang Chenglin's slightly indifferent gaze fell on Feng Yue, and he gave a soft "hmm" in response.
Then, without looking back, she turned and walked upstairs.
He has a striking face that suggests peace and prosperity, and he moves swiftly and decisively, exuding the air of a noble young master raised in a wealthy family.
This drew frequent glances from those present in his direction.
Where the focus is, it is inevitably also the center of the discussion.
Countless whispers, barely audible, rose from behind:
"Such a good person, whoever marries him is incredibly lucky."
"What a pity, having a father like that."
"Even without his father, if he were to frequent brothels every day like this, my family wouldn't dare to praise him."
"Keep dreaming. What do you care about his background or behavior? What does it have to do with you? Is it any of your business to covet him?"
"Exactly, face reality. He's the young master of the Zhang Deyue family, and you're not even worthy to carry his shoes. What's the point of saying all that nonsense?"
Feng Yue listened to the deliberately lowered but still clearly audible voices behind her, lowered her eyes, and followed Zhang Chenglin's footsteps.
But he walked so fast that by the time Fengyue came upstairs, he was already leaning against the door with his arms crossed, waiting for her.
"Walking so slowly?" Zhang Chenglin's roguishness was truly unmatched; he could shut someone up with a single sentence: "Did you go to Cambridge to retrace your steps?"
Feng Yue: "..."
Seeing that Feng Yue was standing still, Zhang Chenglin glanced at the closed door of Feng Yue's room beside him and asked her, "Are you planning to have the guest stand at the door to serve you?"
Fengyue quickly took two steps forward and opened the door, her movements swift as if afraid that if she hesitated even a second, she would be falsely accused of being "unwilling" by the person in front of her.
Although Fengyue had only known Zhang Chenglin for a short time, she had already figured out his temperament. When he got into a rogue state, he was no different from a seventeen or eighteen-year-old boy.
Upon entering the brothel, Zhang Chenglin, as he often did, stood in front of the bookshelf, looking like someone choosing cabbages at the market, occasionally revealing a slightly dissatisfied expression on his face.
Feng Yue stood quietly behind her, watching his tall and straight figure in his military uniform.
For some reason, Zhang Chenglin always gave him a strange sense of familiarity, as if he were an old friend he hadn't seen in a long time.
But they had never met before.
When Zhang Chenglin turned to look at Fengyue, he found her in a daze. Zhang Chenglin didn't say anything, just looked at her and waited for her to come back to her senses.
"What are you thinking about?" Zhang Chenglin waited for a long time, until he was almost losing patience, before finally speaking, "So engrossed?"
Feng Yue, slightly dazed, lowered her eyes and said, "No."
Zhang Chenglin looked at her and knew she wasn't telling the truth, but he didn't ask any more questions. He simply said, "I won't be coming over for a while."
Fengyue was taken aback, not expecting him to say these things to her.
Realizing what she had done, she quickly replied, "Okay."
Zhang Chenglin had handsome features, but he just looked at her.
Meanwhile, in the lobby of Huayue Tower, Zhou Zhu was greeted with a smile by Aunt Rong as soon as he entered. Zhou Zhu looked around and asked Aunt Rong, "Is Mr. Zhang here?"
Aunt Rong was taken aback, many thoughts flashing through her mind like a revolving lantern, before finally smiling and replying, "Yes, I'm here."
Zhou Zhu's eyes dimmed slightly, and he simply said, "Bring me a pot of tea. I'd like to listen to some music here."
"Alright, sir, please wait a moment!" Aunt Rong immediately agreed, afraid that the man might change his mind if she was too slow.
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