Chapter 150 — Awakening
Purple Streets of Chang'an Page 1 of 2
The blue-curtained official sedan chair made its leisurely way to the mouth of Shuntian Prefecture's Xue Alley.
Two men dressed as guards had silently fallen in behind the sedan.
The bearers pretended not to notice.
Past the Shuntian Prefecture school, a man in the garb of a steward darted out from under the eaves and walked along beside the chair.
Once they reached the main street, a servant carrying a lantern appeared before the sedan.
Only now did the chair begin to look the part of a second-rank grandee traveling in modest state.
On the great red lantern was written a single enormous character: Dou.
In the darkness it stood out beyond all concealment.
The night patrolmen who saw it did not come forward to question them; they stepped aside of their own accord.
The chair entered Cuihua Alley, one of the most renowned pleasure quarters in the capital.
Several of the constables exchanged leering glances, wearing the knowing envy that passes between men. One of them even sighed, "So it seems the old Chancellor is the same as the rest of us!"
The others snickered, as vulgar as could be.
The man inside the sedan knew nothing of it.
Had anyone followed them closely, they would have noticed that after the chair had swayed its way once around Cuihua Alley, the outer curtains had turned sapphire blue, and the embroidered bands bearing gold and silver chi-dragon patterns on the chair's curtains had vanished.
When the chair emerged from Cuihua Alley, it circled half the city and came to a stop before a shop not far from Anding Gate Street, on Drum Tower Street, bearing the sign "Dou's Brush and Ink."
The servant with the lantern hurried forward and lifted the curtain.
An elderly scholar in a blue cotton robe stepped down, and as he knocked softly on the door of the brush-and-ink shop he called out, "Steward Fan!"
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Song Yan saw that he was standing in a vast, dense fog.
The bleak mist rolled up layer upon layer, so that he could not make out the direction he had come from, could not find the road ahead, did not know where he was.
He walked on aimlessly through the fog.
Damp and cold, clammy and clinging, with a chill that pierced to the bone.
How had he come to be here?
He suddenly stopped in his tracks.
All around was dead silent, without the slightest sound.
He walked on, as though passing through fold after fold of thin gauze, one layer behind another. As though there would never be an end to it.
Why?
He asked.
No one answered.
His steps grew faster and faster.
The fog grew thicker and thicker.
Why?
He shouted furiously into the void ahead.
The dense fog seemed to fear his wrath, for at his shouting it parted to either side.
He saw someone walking before him, carrying a lantern.
The lantern gave off a soft, limpid, moon-bright radiance in the fog.
So he was not alone after all!
A surge of excitement went through him, and at once his heart grew calm, steady, composed.
But the fog quickly gathered again, thicker than before, blocking his sight so that he could not see a single glimmer of the light.
Humiliation and rage turned to unwillingness, and like a deluge of floodwater it swallowed him whole.
He roared "Why?" in every direction.
Again and again. Over and over.
The fog parted and closed, closed and parted.
The glimmering lamplight flickered in and out of sight before him.
That light became a single obsession fixed in his heart.
With a thunderous crash, the fog suddenly scattered, and a hazy golden light appeared before his eyes.
Warm and peaceful, it filled his entire field of vision.
He struggled to open his eyes wide.
His sight gradually cleared.
On a blue-green bronze lamp encircled by images of birds burned a ball of orange flame.
Beside him someone let out a long breath: "Young Heir, you're finally awake!"
He turned toward the voice and saw Chen Yanzhou's thin, refined face.
"This—where is this?" His eyes showed surprise as he realized he was lying face down on a bed. He tried to move his body, but his limbs were stiff. He had no strength, so he quickly swept his gaze around the room.
A cramped space, window lattices pasted with white Korean paper, plain black-lacquered furniture, no one else present—it looked like a side room where servants lived.
Chen Yanzhou brought warm water mixed with honey and fed it to him, saying, "This is the stationery shop the Fourth Miss opened. You were unconscious the whole time, so we had no choice but to bring you here first."
Dou Yan!
It was actually Dou Yan who had saved him!
Song Yan could not hide his shock: "How did the Fourth Miss know something had happened to me?"
"Mr. Yan and Xu Qing were being hunted..." Chen Yanzhou told Song Yan how Yan Che had entrusted Lu Ming to seek help from Dou Yan.
Song Yan pressed his lips together. A cold gleam flashed through his eyes, and his hands slowly clenched into fists.
Chen Yanzhou held the small bowl and sighed inwardly.
He had been about to flee when he ran into Duan Bing, who had come over the wall with Chen Lanxu and several others. He had already learned the whole story from Duan Bing, and could not help saying, "At the time the young lady found it very strange. If this matter was aimed at the Jiang family, using kept death-sworn retainers to hunt down two people who were neither of the Jiang bloodline nor close kin to the Jiangs, again and again—that made no sense at all. Then the Fourth Miss questioned Lu Ming, and only then discovered that several important people around you were all absent from the capital. She had a vague sense that this was aimed at you, and that very night had Duan Bing take the best-skilled guards and hurry over. I never expected..." Chen Yanzhou thought of the shock he had felt when he saw Song Yan beaten black and blue, and could not help secretly counting his blessings. "Thank goodness the Fourth Miss did not hesitate, or else..."
Otherwise, even if he had kept his life, he would have been driven out of the family!
In Song Yan's mind rose Dou Yan's handsome face, with its touch of dashing spirit.
His father wanted to kill him.
And Dou Yan, whom he had nearly gotten killed, had saved him.
Was there anything more absurd in this world?
A faint, mocking smile crept onto the corners of his mouth.
But Chen Yanzhou was alarmed to see it, and remembered what Dou Yan had told Duan Bing to pass on to him.
He must rouse Song Yan's fighting spirit; he must not let him, in his despair, choose to drift along with the current!
His eyes flickered, and he said, "It's a pity we didn't have enough people, or else Guardian Yu and Chen Tao... I'm afraid it's already too late..." He sighed with regret.
Song Yan said nothing, and with an effort tried to prop himself up.
Chen Yanzhou hurried forward to help him, but he made a gesture that it was unnecessary, and said, "I must ask Chen Sou to thank Guardian Duan and Guardian Chen and the others on my behalf. As for the Fourth Miss..." His tone paused slightly, and a thread of warmth flowed through the depths of his eyes, softening his features. "A great kindness needs no words of thanks; I will say no more!"
Chen Yanzhou was delighted.
It seemed Song Yan was far stronger than he had imagined.
He said quickly, "I dare not claim such credit; I was only doing as the young lady instructed."
Song Yan did not dwell on these matters, but asked Chen Yanzhou, "How long was I unconscious?"
His gaze was calm. His tone rational, revealing an air of composure and ease befitting a great family.
"Six shichen!" Chen Yanzhou answered.
That meant it was now the si hour of the second day.