Chapter 131 — Friends

When Song Yan entered his mother's room, Lady Jiang was speaking in low tones with one of the serving women. Hearing the maids attending within call out "Young Marquis" in their soft, fluting voices,.

"You saw Miss Dou the Fourth?" Lady Jiang dismissed the servants in the room and poured a cup of tea for her son with her own hands.

"I did," Song Yan said, rising hastily to receive the teacup. "Miss Dou asked me to thank Grandmother and you on her behalf, and said that if she ever has the chance to come to the capital, she will most certainly call at our door. She also sent some return gifts for you—I had Chen He hand them over to Matron Huo."

Matron Huo was Lady Jiang's wet nurse.

Chen He was the young servant who had accompanied Song Yan to the country estate to deliver the gifts this time.

When Lady Jiang heard that Dou Yan had even prepared return gifts for her, she was delighted. "Come," she said with a smile, "let us go see what the Fourth Miss of the Dou family has brought me."

Song Yan accompanied Lady Jiang to the side room that served as a storehouse.

There was nothing but bolts of silk and satin—fine quality, to be sure, but hardly out of the ordinary.

"Miss Dou never expected that Grandmother and Mother would have me call in person to convey our thanks," Song Yan said. "And since the matter was kept from her family, she sent someone hurriedly to Zhending Prefecture to buy a few bolts of good cloth. She asked me to tell you that these paltry gifts are hardly worthy of the name, and begs you not to take offense."

Lady Jiang stroked the raised pattern of intertwined branches and flowers on the damask, and sighed with feeling. "What fine things have I not seen? What is rare is the thought behind it."

Song Yan breathed an inward sigh of relief and smiled as he walked out with his mother.

But Lady Jiang's legs suddenly gave way, and if Song Yan had not caught her with quick hands and keen eyes, she would have nearly fallen to the ground.

Song Yan turned pale with fright. "Mother, what is wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," Lady Jiang said, smiling to reassure her son, though her face could not hide its pallor.

"Mother!" Song Yan hurriedly helped his mother back to her room, then set about summoning the imperial physician to take her pulse.

Song Cen, who had been drinking and talking barefoot with his wife, the Third Princess, and her consort Shi Chonglan, seated on the ground in the waterside pavilion beside the carved stone winding-cup channel at the Third Princess's residence, received word and rushed back at once, arriving just as Song Yan was seeing the physician Yang Luan out the door. The two were as familiar with each other as could be, so Song Cen did not stand on ceremony; he dragged Yang Luan, who had been about to leave, back inside, and the party went to Song Cen's study.

"How is my wife?" Song Cen asked anxiously.

"Nothing serious," Yang Luan said. "Pent-up anger has attacked her heart. A few doses of a dispersing formula will set her right."

Song Cen sighed. "Since my elder brother-in-law's misfortune, she has not had a single good night's sleep. You might as well add a few ingredients to calm the heart and settle the spirit."

That was simple enough.

Yang Luan smiled and agreed, then wrote out a new prescription for Lady Jiang, after which Song Yan saw Yang Luan out once more.

Song Cen, meanwhile, went to the main chamber.

Lady Jiang lay half-reclined against the headboard, her face wan and weary.

Seeing Song Cen enter, the maids curtsied respectfully, addressing him as "Lord Zhenguo," and Lady Jiang, too, greeted him in a frail voice as "Lord Zhenguo."

"How do you feel now?" Song Cen walked to the bedside without a glance to either side and studied Lady Jiang's complexion carefully. "I ran into Yang Xiushan just now. He says there is nothing seriously wrong with you, and that a few doses of a medicine to calm the spirit and nourish the qi will set you right." As he spoke, he sat down on the edge of the bed and took the hand Lady Jiang had laid upon the thin quilt. "Mm. Your fingers are still a little cold. You must take better care of yourself. We are none of us young anymore—we cannot go on pushing ourselves the way we did in our youth."

Yang Luan's courtesy name was Xiushan.

Lady Jiang smiled with pursed lips. "What did the Third Consort say?"

Song Cen's visit to the Third Princess's residence this time had been chiefly to find a way to speak with the Prince of Liao through Shi Chonglan.

"With me putting in an appearance, could Ruifang possibly say no?" Song Cen said, patting his chest. "Set your mind at ease. There will surely be word back before my third brother-in-law and the others arrive."

Lady Jiang's expression relaxed. She thanked Song Cen gratefully.

"We are an old married couple—what is the use of such talk?" Song Cen said, then hesitated, his face showing irresolution.

Lady Jiang smiled. "Since we are an old married couple, what is there you cannot say to me?"

Song Cen gave a hollow laugh and said in a low voice, "Now that Mother and the rest are safe and sound, and Hanzhu has passed away, I think Tianci's marriage..."

Lady Jiang understood her husband's meaning and smiled. "Naturally, that is for you to decide."

That her husband had been willing, at the critical moment of life and death for the Jiang family, to reluctantly agree to Song Yan's marrying Hanzhu was already a great kindness and deep loyalty. Now that the Jiang family had fallen on hard times, although the Songs had no need of a daughter-in-law to shore them up, to take as wife—and as the wife of the eldest son, no less—the daughter of a disgraced official reduced to commoner status was something Song Cen would never consent to. At the time, it would be more accurate to say that he had been forced by circumstance to agree temporarily than that he had reluctantly consented.

Now that the Jiang family's crisis was past, and Hanzhu was dead besides, there was no need—nor any possibility—for the Song and Jiang families to be joined in marriage.

Joy showed on Song Cen's brow.

Outside, the strings of the beaded curtain clattered, and Song Han came running in.

"Mother, Mother, what is wrong?" He flung himself down at his mother's bedside, and only then caught sight of his father. He hurriedly straightened and respectfully paid his respects.

Song Cen gave a gratified "Mm," but scolded him nonetheless. "What did your tutor tell you? When your elder brother was your age, he already knew how to advance and retreat with proper order..."

Song Han pouted, tears welling in his eyes as he gazed at his mother.

Lady Jiang hastened to say, "There, there. He is still young. He will understand when he is a little older." Then she quickly changed the subject. "I have been quite worn out these past few days. As for the July rents, I must ask the Marquis to help collect them."

The Ying Zhenguo Estate had sixteen imperially bestowed manors, and like the government offices, collected rents twice a year, in summer and autumn. At this time, the stewards of the various manors all returned to the Ying Zhenguo Estate to make their accounts.

"Certainly!" Song Cen said cheerfully. "There is a chief steward anyway. I will just sit there like a clay idol."

He did not understand such matters.

Jiang Shi could not help but smile.

Song Yan returned with the medicine and, finding the room full of cheerful, harmonious air, paid his respects to his parents and asked, "What are you talking about? You all look so happy!"

Song Cen said hurriedly, "Your mother asked me to help calculate the summer rents, and I still have to help your uncles curry favor with the Prince of Liao. I think this matter should just be handed over to you. Didn't Master Hong praise your skill at arithmetic? Perfect—help manage the household affairs."

Song Yan was taken aback and looked toward his mother.