Disobedience To Control chapter 6
Appointment
The typhoon had been raging for more than twenty hours. It was still raining steadily outside on Saturday evening. Song Siheng’s house was tightly shut, and a documentary was randomly playing on the living room’s screen.
He sat in his study, reviewing the patent acquisition contract that Li Ke had left for him on Friday.
He had arranged to meet Yang Xiaobei tonight at 8:00 PM in a suite at a hotel in the city center. Song Siheng glanced at his wristwatch; he still had plenty of time.
Suddenly, his phone on the desk vibrated.
Song Siheng opened it and saw a WeChat message.
The other side only sent five words: “When will you be back?”
Song Siheng glanced at it for a few seconds, then turned off the screen without replying. Half an hour later, his phone rang directly.
Two words bounced on the screen: Fu Xuehua. His birth mother.
He answered the phone, and the tone on the other end was somewhat serious.
“You didn’t come back for the Mid-Autumn Festival, you should come back tonight. I had Qiu Yi prepare a table of dishes for you.”
Qiu Yi was the housekeeper who had been working for the Song family for over ten years. Since Song Siheng was still in primary school, she had been working for the Song family. Song Siheng was almost raised by her.
Fu Xuehua had called him back home last week, but Song Siheng had always refused, citing work as an excuse. He didn’t expect her to remember and send another message today.
Glancing at the time, he thought two hours back home would be enough.
He thought for a moment, put on his coat, and headed to the underground garage.
There were two cars parked in the underground parking garage. Song Siheng glanced at the weather and chose the dark blue SUV to drive home.
The Song family’s old mansion was located on the edge of the Central Ring Road, in a somewhat aged garden villa community. Over the years, the property had been well maintained and didn’t appear overly antiquated.
He parked the car at the door, and the two parking spaces in front of the garden were already occupied. One was his parents’ black old Crown, and the other was a silver-gray sedan.
Song Siheng knew whose car it was. He had to park his car outside the yellow line on the fence. Then he got out of the car and rang the doorbell by the garden wall.
It took about two minutes before someone came to the door.
Song Ping was wearing a thick gray shawl and a set of black high-necked cashmere sweater inside.
“Do you forget your keys?” He didn’t look up at Song Siheng. “Every time you come back, it’s like visiting, and you still need someone to open the door for you.”
“I forgot.” Song Siheng shook his coat and followed Song Ping into the house.
The copper door of the garden villa slowly closed. Song Siheng found his usual pair of gray slippers at the entrance.
As soon as he entered the house, the familiar sandalwood fragrance emanated from the inner room.
Song Siheng wrinkled his nose, hung up his coat, and continued to walk inside.
He only wore a light-colored shirt under his coat, with the top two buttons unbuttoned, and the cufflinks rolled up to his forearms.
Song Ping glanced at him, his eyes sharp as daggers. It seemed as if Song Siheng was not showing a section of his forearm, but a pubic area.
As they walked into the dining room, dinner was almost ready, with seven or eight exquisite dishes laid out on the table.
On the long dining table, a set of tableware was placed at each end. Fu Xuehua was already sitting at one end, and Song Ping pulled out a chair and sat down at the other.
Song Siheng glanced at the arrangement on the table, pulled apart the two remaining sets of tableware side by side, and sat down on the other side where no one was sitting.
Fu Xuehua also noticed Song Siheng’s attire but didn’t say much: “Go wash your hands. Remember to rinse with running water, and wash your forearms and fingertips clean.”
Song Siheng wanted to laugh a little, then stood up.
Both Fu Xuehua and Song Ping were surgeons and had been doing surgery all their lives. Their habit of cleanliness was also brought into the home.
When Song Siheng came back after washing his hands, only the two of them were still sitting at the dinner table. Qiu Yi had already served all the dishes and was waiting to start the meal.
“Where’s Song Qin?” Song Siheng casually asked, “I saw his car at the door. Did he not come back?”
“He’s upstairs.” Fu Xuehua took off her glasses, wiped the lenses carefully with a glasses cloth, and put them into a nearby glasses case, “He said he’s reading students’ papers and will come down in a while.”
Song Qin was Song Siheng’s half-brother, but they had the same father and different mothers. Song Ping and Fu Xuehua had never mentioned anything about Song Qin’s biological mother. Song Siheng had never bothered to inquire either.
In Song Siheng’s eyes, he and Song Qin didn’t have a deep brotherly relationship. Although they had grown up together and attended the same school, compared to Song Siheng’s flamboyant and proud nature, Song Qin had always been a standard studious student. He didn’t participate in any extracurricular activities and didn’t have any close friends.
In Song Siheng’s eyes, Song Qin was just a replica of Song Ping, dull and indifferent.
As adults, Song Siheng found that Song Qin had become even more silent. They only exchanged a few words at family gatherings like this, and never contacted each other at other times.
The three of them sat at different ends of the table, none of them picking up their chopsticks.
“Can’t we eat first?” Song Siheng raised his hand to check the time; it was almost seven o’clock.
Fu Xuehua looked up at him. Although she wasn’t wearing glasses, her gaze was still sharp: “No manners.”
Fu Xuehua still didn’t pick up her chopsticks; she just glanced at the stairs at the end of the stairs. She turned to ask Song Siheng, “Didn’t Xiao Ke come with you today?”
Song Siheng realized she was asking about Li Ke. Li Ke had been classmates with him for many years, and their families were also familiar. Sometimes when he came home, Li Ke would drive for him, and Fu Xuehua would ask Li Ke to stay for dinner.
“These past few days, there’s been a typhoon, and he’s got his own things to deal with,” Song Siheng replied.
The three of them remained silent for a moment. Qiu Yi came out of the kitchen and glanced at the dining table, asking softly, “The food has cooled down a bit, shall I reheat it?”
Fu Xuehua nodded, and Qiu Yi picked up the plates and went to the kitchen.
Five minutes later, slow footsteps were heard from upstairs. Song Siheng followed the sound and saw a figure emerging from the darkness. The person was wearing a crisp light blue shirt, with the buttons tightly fastened to the neck.
He glanced at the table in front of the three of them, and after a while, he spoke up, “You don’t have to wait for me in the future.”
After Song Qin took his seat, he nodded slightly to Song Siheng as a greeting. Song Siheng also nodded back at him.
Fu Xuehua’s expression softened a bit at this, “I know you’re busy reading articles, but we have to eat togther.”
Song Ping asked Qiu Yi to pour hot tea for the two of them again, and then the dinner officially began.
Song Qin didn’t take off his glasses while eating, and the narrow frames reflected a bit of light from the chandelier, dazzling Song Siheng’s eyes.
He instinctively furrowed his brows, which Song Qin happened to notice. Song Qin glanced at him, his expression as calm as ever, no different from usual.
Without speaking, Song Qin’s phone vibrated. He put down his chopsticks, picked up his phone, and glanced at it.
Seeing Song Qin’s action, Song Ping casually asked, “Did Yu’s girl send you a WeChat message?”
Song Qin paused for a moment at the question, then raised his head, “No. It’s about work.”
Fu Xuehua scooped up a bowl of soup and handed it to him, “You shouldn’t always stay at school. If someone invites you out, go and meet them.”
Song Siheng caught a glimpse of Song Qin furrowing his brow slightly.
For some reason, he felt a slight ripple in his heart and thought of Song Qin’s gaze just now. Song Siheng smiled and asked him, “What’s wrong? Didn’t the blind date go well?”
Song Qin’s Adam’s apple bobbed, but instead of answering him, he lowered his head to lock his phone screen. Then, as if nothing had happened, he picked up the chopsticks and picked up the fish in front of him.
Hearing this, Fu Xuehua glared at Song Siheng, “Do you have the nerve to say that about Xiao Qin, you…”
Song Siheng shrugged indifferently, waiting for her to finish the second half of her sentence.
Fu Xuehua stopped herself from saying the rest and swallowed it back. The atmosphere at the dining table became somewhat awkward.
The light from the chandelier reflected on the porcelain bowls, and the old-fashioned grandfather clock in the living room emitted a heavy, slow ticking sound.
“Ding, ding, ding…”
It was eight o’clock. Song Siheng glanced at the phone placed aside.
Fu Xuehua looked outside, only to see the camphor trees in the courtyard rustling in the strong wind. The fallen leaves on the lawn were swept up by the wind, sticking to the outside of the living room’s French windows with rainwater.
“We’ll need to get a cleaner to tidy up the yard after the typhoon passes,” Fu Xuehua said.
Song Ping nodded, “Siheng’s room also needs to be cleaned.”
Song Siheng shook his head, “No need, I’m not coming back to stay.”
The sound of rain on the glass grew louder. Qiu Yi took off her apron and stood by the French window.
“Could it be hail starting?”
Fu Xuehua looked up, then turned to look at Song Siheng, “Stay at home tonight. Go back to your place after the weekend.”
It was an order, not a question.
The clock had already turned a quarter past eight. The sound of rain outside hadn’t stopped.
Song Siheng’s fingers paused on the phone screen, hesitating to reply.
Fu Xuehua was a bit dissatisfied, “Why are you so absent-minded while eating?”
Song Ping chimed in, “Didn’t you hear what your mom said?”
Song Siheng finished the last spoonful of soup in front of him, smiled, stood up, adjusted his shirt collar and cuffs.
“I just remembered I have something to do tonight, so I’ll take my leave.”
Almost simultaneously, Song Ping and Fu Xuehua looked at him, “Hey, where are you going?”
Without waiting for them to persuade him, Song Siheng put on his coat again and went out into the car. When he looked up after starting the car, the lights in the house were still on. And the person standing in front of the French window had changed from Qiu Yi to Song Qin. He didn’t look outside but just stood there with his head bowed.
Song Siheng glanced at him, and the person inside the house quickly turned around and walked away. From then on, the warmth in that house had nothing to do with him.
Song Siheng turned the car around and stepped on the gas.
The navigation pointed to a five-star hotel on the other side of the city. After the typhoon had passed through Jiangcheng, the roads were sparsely populated, and the six-lane road was unobstructed in both directions. Song Siheng drove all the way, and in less than half an hour, he arrived at his destination.
Ten minutes later, the elevator stopped at the top floor. The door opened slowly, and he walked out. He had only taken a few steps forward when he saw someone sitting on the carpet in front of the suite door.
When the person heard footsteps, he immediately looked up at him.
In less than half a second, those dark eyes curved up, “I thought you were going to stand me up and not show up.”