Chapter 449 Modern Arc 5 (Meng Wan x Song Tingzhou)

Chapter 449 Modern Chapter 5 (Meng Wan x Song Tingzhou)

At the reception, besides Meng Wan and Zhang Yu who looked like a couple of greenhorns, there were also a few humble, polite, and insecure small business owners who had pulled strings to get in and schmooze.

Before Meng Wan spoke, he was no different from those people—at most, his face got him a few second looks. After he spoke, others still didn't want to bother with him, but Jin Jun was willing to exchange pleasantries. If nothing else, the fact that he'd called Jin Jun the day after the bidding ended showed that Meng Wan wasn't just some ordinary small businessman.

"Ah, so you're Manager Meng. Why didn't you come say hi earlier? I thought you hadn't shown up." Jin Jun smiled brilliantly.

Meng Wan held his wine glass with a composed, faint smile. "You've been busy, Manager Jin, so I didn't want to barge in."

"What's there to barge in about? A guest's a guest. Come, come—let me introduce you to a few friends." As he spoke, Jin Jun naturally guided Meng Wan toward a small circle nearby, acting like they were old pals rather than meeting formally for the first time.

With Jin Jun personally making the introduction, everyone started sizing Meng Wan up. Meng Wan put on a smile and greeted each person in turn, working the room, but nobody would give him anything real.

Meng Wan appeared to have gained nothing, only collecting a stack of business cards, but in reality, he'd already achieved what he'd set out to do.

"Manager Zhao, why are you sitting here all alone? Care to share a drink?"

Meng Wan slipped out of the main circle without a second thought. The waistline of his black suit was a bit loose, which only made him look more relaxed and poised—he knew when to push and when to pull back.

He ordered another drink and, copying the rich kids he'd known in college, lifted the glass, tilted his wrist, and swirled the liquor. It wasn't exactly smooth, but it didn't have that try-hard stiffness. Combined with Meng Wan's strikingly handsome face, it was hard not to believe he was just another wealthy young master slumming it to see how the other half lives.

Zhao Qingquan froze for only a second before recognizing him as the one Jin Jun had personally received earlier. Playing along, he raised his glass too. "And you are?"

Meng Wan flashed a calm, relaxed smile and, with great confidence, took a business card from Zhang Yu and handed it over. "Just a small-time one-man shop, can't compare to a self-made boss like you, Manager Zhao."

Nobody here gave Zhao Qingquan the time of day. Meng Wan had worked that crowd like a pro, and now stepping out to say such things to Zhao Qingquan hit different.

Flattered, Zhao Qingquan accepted the card and glanced at it—General Manager, Shijian Building Materials Trading Co., Ltd., Meng Wan.

A freshly registered company; the card practically still smelled like fresh ink.

"You're too kind, Manager Meng. I just own a small stone quarry—not a big operation, but our advantage is low prices. We scrape by under the big factories." Zhao Qingquan hurriedly pulled out his own card and handed it over, laying out his selling points in one short sentence.

He had some brains, but not much—otherwise he wouldn't have been left out in the cold. Meng Wan's proactive outreach was the only opportunity he had to show himself, especially after repeatedly hitting walls with the general contractors and section bosses. He'd latch onto Meng Wan without a second thought.

Meng Wan stayed at the hotel until the main guests had left, then left with a full haul. The BMW in the parking space had been polished to a mirror shine—rented from a shop in Lingzhou County so he wouldn't blow his cover, driven all the way to Yongzhou.

"How have you still not passed the written test?" Meng Wan grumbled as he buckled his seatbelt and started the engine. He'd gotten his license back in school, passed everything on the first try—it hadn't seemed that hard to him.

Zhang Yu in the passenger seat guiltily looked out the window. "I'll definitely pass this time."

That "definitely" cost Meng Wan another twenty days. Fortunately, the driving test and road test went smoothly after that. In the meantime, Meng Wan had rented an office in Lingzhou County, hired a few employees, and quickly got two quarries up and running—one of them being Zhao Qingquan's.

The day after returning from Yongzhou, Jin Jun had proactively contacted Meng Wan, so polite it threw Meng Wan for a second. But why look a gift horse in the mouth? Meng Wan quickly rode that wave and locked in the deal to work with Jin Jun's construction site.

With the two big pieces locked down, Meng Wan began contacting reliable trucking fleets near Lingzhou while renting office space. Once the fleet was secured, it was time to start hauling materials from the quarries to the site. After covering the upfront costs, Meng Wan's 500,000 yuan was gone in the blink of an eye.

In business, money isn't money—it's just a river.

Meng Wan sat at a rice noodle stall with a long sigh, no regrets, his face full of ambition. Girls passing by kept sneaking looks at him, and after their friends egged them on, one finally got the nerve to go ask for his number.

The strikingly handsome young man smiled kindly and said something; the girl walked away looking both disappointed and surprised.

A black sedan was parked not far away. Song Tingzhou, still in his spotless white shirt and crisply pressed black trousers, sat in the car watching everything unfold. A dark cloud hung over his brow, and the storm in his eyes was locked away. Morality and desire were at a standoff, and he was doing everything he could to keep any extra emotion from leaking out.

"Beep."

Song Tingzhou instinctively picked up his phone, ignoring the messy red notification dots below. It was a message from the pinned chat with the silver moon avatar.

"Wan": Brother Zhou, are you free recently? I said I'd treat you to a meal—I found a nice place.

Lava met a drop of water. His heart exploded, and the hunger he called desire swept through everything like a wrecking ball. Song Tingzhou typed back without hesitation: Free tonight. Yeah, you pick.

Watching Meng Wan pocket his phone and get up, Song Tingzhou finally said in a hoarse voice to his driver, "Go to the flower shop."

—

The restaurant Meng Wan had booked was neither too flashy nor too shabby. He'd booked a table at noon, planning to get there early and order some solid dishes. When his van pulled into the parking spot at the entrance, Song Tingzhou's car arrived at the same time.

It wasn't an official government car, and there was no driver—just a low-key black SUV. Compared to that, Meng Wan's beat-up red van looked pretty rough, and not even his face could class up that van.

He said politely to Song Tingzhou in the driver's seat, "Brother Zhou, I'm late."

Song Tingzhou's window was down, which was why Meng Wan could see him at a glance. "Perfect timing, right? Give me a sec."

Meng Wan dutifully stood aside while he parked, and the two went up to the private room on the second floor together.

"Why isn't your cousin here?" Song Tingzhou asked casually.

He'd assumed it would be three people again, but this turned out to be a pleasant surprise.

Meng Wan handed the menu from the waiter to Song Tingzhou. "I was going to bring him, but the trucking company said they needed him, so he left first."

Song Tingzhou looked down at the menu, the corner of his mouth twitching up for a split second.

They ordered their dishes and started chatting. Meng Wan asked Song Tingzhou as usual whether he wanted to drink. He'd been drinking a lot with clients lately and his tolerance had gone up, but he didn't drink at regular meals—everything for the sake of making a living.

Song Tingzhou declined as expected. "We both drove here, so let's skip the alcohol." He wanted to tell Meng Wan, if you want to drink, come by my place sometime—but that would be too forward, and he could already imagine how Meng Wan would react.

Since they weren't drinking, tea it was. Meng Wan rinsed the teacup for Song Tingzhou, poured half a cup, and asked directly, "Brother Zhou, did you put in a word for me with Manager Jin at Ruid?"

He wasn't stupid. He had zero connections in Guangxi. If someone hadn't spoken up for him, Jin Jun wouldn't have given him a second glance—let alone eagerly sought out a partnership with his tiny company.

Meng Wan had earlier sensed that Song Tingzhou might have some interest in him, but then decided probably not—the other man was too restrained, and with that watch, he'd never gone down that path. But once the Jin Jun deal went through, pretending otherwise became impossible.

A nobody with no background, he'd managed to get into the sand and gravel business that even locals couldn't easily break into. He was just a middleman, sure, but he could quickly multiply his capital several times over. Song Tingzhou had done him such a huge favor, and continuing to play dumb and take advantage of him would be going too far. But having Meng Wan fall to his knees in tearful gratitude and offer himself up? Even more impossible.

Back when Meng Wan had worked as a hanger-on, he'd seen plenty of rich kids swapping girlfriends like changing clothes—oh, and boyfriends too. To people in high positions, gender didn't matter; men and women alike could become toys in their hands.

Young people, sheltered by their schools, suddenly exposed to the decadence of high society, could easily lose themselves and be devoured by capital. Some woke up halfway; others never escaped.

Meng Wan had been flirted with too, but the people he met in college were relatively innocent—mostly mutual consent. If he wasn't interested, they wouldn't force it. The art school was full of beautiful people; they didn't need Meng Wan specifically. But there was one guy at his school who was especially persistent, which eventually drove Meng Wan to quit his well-paying gig as a rich kid's sidekick, and his reputation throughout college suffered because of it.

From that rotten peach blossom onward, Meng Wan decided he would never become anyone's plaything. In this life, even if he never dated, he absolutely refused to end up as fodder for someone's dinner table gossip.

Song Tingzhou held his teacup steady and took a small sip. "I only mentioned in passing that I knew you. I never said a single word about the project. Getting in touch with Jin Jun was all your own effort. Xiao Wan, you're very capable—don't sell yourself short."

Song Tingzhou was always affirming him. Meng Wan let out a long sigh, his face showing gratitude, but the wariness in his heart didn't drop an inch.

He'd seen more sophisticated tactics too. A friend's uncle from his rich-kid days—thirty-eight or thirty-nine, mature and handsome—had pulled out every romantic trick imaginable to win over a female college student who'd worked hard to get into a university in the capital. Anyone would have called it true love.

Turns out he had a wife and family. When his wife returned from abroad and found the girl, she simply handed over a card and said, "You're not the first. Don't be foolish. Take the money, focus on your studies, and don't ruin your life over a piece of trash."

Unfortunately, that advice came too late. The girl ended up dropping out due to depression.

"Everything I'm doing is small-time stuff. You're the one who's truly impressive, Brother Zhou. I even looked you up online—you were the top scorer in the city's college entrance exam, got into Jing University, and accomplished so much during your tenure." Meng Wan smiled broadly, what should have been a thank-you suddenly turning into official flattery.

"Meng Wan." Song Tingzhou's eyes darkened as he looked at him. "You don't need to be afraid of anything. I won't do anything to you." So stop speaking with that veiled warning. He had a human heart—flesh and blood—and it could hurt too.

Meng Wan wanted to decline tactfully—ideally without offending Song Tingzhou. If he truly offended him, he could just wrap up this current job and leave Guangxi altogether.

He hadn't expected Song Tingzhou to be this direct. Aren't these officials supposed to love talking in circles?

Meng Wan could sense the sincerity in Song Tingzhou's words. The steady man before him wasn't wearing his usual white shirt and black trousers. Instead, he had on a white short-sleeved shirt paired with linen-textured pants, and instead of his customary black leather shoes, he wore white sneakers—like he'd deliberately switched up his style for this meet-up.

Meng Wan felt a delayed flutter in his chest. If Song Tingzhou weren't the County Party Secretary but just a teacher, a doctor, or an ordinary office worker, maybe he'd have laid all his cards on the table, and perhaps the two of them could have actually made it work. But no—his position was too high, too particular. Even in his wildest romantic daydreams, Meng Wan had never dreamed of dating a Party Secretary!

While he was quiet, the waiter began serving cold dishes, followed by one hot course after another.

By the time all the dishes were on the table, neither man had picked up his chopsticks. Meng Wan's throat felt tight. He picked up his teacup and threw it back in one gulp, deciding to just be blunt too. "Brother Zhou, that watch on your wrist is nice—did your sister-in-law buy it for you?"

Song Tingzhou had been feeling down, but Meng Wan's question caught him completely off guard.

Meng Wan took his silence as confirmation. The guilt in his eyes faded, and his expression turned cold. The table was piled with food that hadn't come cheap, and he wasn't about to let himself go hungry—he was pinching every penny these days. Even if he felt uncomfortable, he wouldn't starve himself. He began picking at the dishes.

"I don't have a sister-in-law," Song Tingzhou said hesitantly, confusion coloring his voice. "This watch was a gift from my mother when I was in high school."

The roast goose in Meng Wan's mouth suddenly regained its flavor. He chewed hastily and swallowed, his face going pale, then red, then green, then back again as his thoughts churned. "Ah?"

The two of them were on totally different wavelengths. Song Tingzhou's heart was still churning with bitterness, soaking through him like it might swallow him whole. He understood that Meng Wan's words were a signal to stop—he was saying Song Tingzhou had too much power, so he had to respect every word—even if it meant drowning in his own feelings.

The meal, meant as a thank-you, ended in silence.

As they descended the stairs, Meng Wan's mind was still a mess. He nearly missed a step, and Song Tingzhou, right behind him, grabbed his arm. His arms were long and strong, the muscles flexing with smooth, fluid lines—not overly bulky, just well-defined.

Meng Wan was a beat slow to clock his own bottom instincts. Pushing aside all other thoughts, he just let himself appreciate the man in front of him.

Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs, and a handsome face. In formal wear, he had a dignified, steady handsomeness, and when he was with Meng Wan, he was gentle.

"Watch your step." Seeing Meng Wan freeze up, Song Tingzhou assumed he didn't like being touched and immediately let go, walking past him down the stairs.

"Secretary Song has already settled the bill."

Meng Wan stood at the front desk as the receptionist gestured toward the man waiting by the door, informing him softly.

Lingzhou County had only a few famous restaurants, and Song Tingzhou had frequented this one during his business dinners, keeping a prepaid balance here.

Meng Wan's hand tightened around his phone. Now that he knew Song Tingzhou might not be the kind of person he'd imagined, the guilt and goodwill he'd been suppressing surfaced.

He couldn't keep using the man like that. Song Tingzhou didn't owe him anything.

Meng Wan rushed out of the restaurant. Song Tingzhou was standing by his car, the night having fallen. He stood outside the reach of the streetlamp's glow, his back straight, his figure radiating loneliness.

"Brother Zhou, next time it's on me." The bill was already paid, and Meng Wan hadn't yet figured out what Song Tingzhou was really about, so this was all he could offer for now.

Meng Wan probably wanted to cut ties with him, Song Tingzhou thought.

He opened the car door and glanced at the large bouquet of flowers still sitting unsent in the back seat. His eyes dimmed further. "Mm, I'll be going then."

Before Meng Wan could even say goodbye, the black SUV drove out of the parking lot without looking back.

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