Chapter 211 — Beating the Grass

Song Yan sat before the great desk of purple sandalwood inlaid with curling-cloud patterns in his study, gazing out the window at the crabapple blossoms that lay like three feet of accumulated snow, his expression grave.

Once he had calmed down, he carefully turned over Dou Zhiwei's words in his mind.

She had been telling him that they were not fated, hadn't she?

Her words always carried a good deal of sense.

Just six days ago, he had learned that his father had formally proposed marriage on his behalf to the Yan'an Marquis.

The Yan'an Marquis had neither agreed nor refused.

Word reached him that after returning to his residence, the Yan'an Marquis had consulted his eldest son, Wang Yu, who was thoroughly in favor of the match, and the Marquis had consequently been somewhat swayed.

Song Yan pushed the window open.

Beyond it, green bamboo stood crisp and dignified, plum trees gnarled and vigorous, Yunnan flowers lush and alluring; beneath the arbor where passionflower vines twined, Wuyi was boastfully regaling a few footboys with tall tales.

Song Yan's lips curved up despite himself.

He might marry whomever he pleased, but he would not be led by the nose by his father!

The next day, he began to appear before Consort Ning, who had accompanied the Emperor to the summer palace and had always held him in high favor.

Consort Ning was the birth mother of Princess Jingfu.

Princess Jingfu had come of age this spring.

Three days ago—the day before he had taken leave to attend Dou Yan's wedding—he had come out from an imperial audience at the summer palace, and Wang Yuan had said to him with a smile, "Congratulations," adding under his breath, "Her Highness Consort Ning has been singing your praises to the Emperor these past two days."

Recalling the questions the Emperor had just put to him, he understood at once, and smilingly slipped the man a banknote.

Unless he was mistaken, the Yan'an Marquis would send his father an answer within a few days.

And the palace would soon summon his father for questioning as well.

Was he truly not fated to be with Dou Yan?

Song Yan paused briefly beneath the crabapple blossoms, then went to Yan Che's quarters.

There was nothing in this world he had set his mind to that he could not accomplish!

Yan Che brewed Da Hong Pao himself to receive Song Yan; pouring from the purple-clay pot into small purple-clay cups, he smiled and asked, "When does the heir set out?"

Song Yan had only been granted two days' leave.

"I'll set out after lunch," Song Yan said, sipping his tea unhurriedly. "I intend to marry Dou Yan, and there are certain matters I need to entrust to you."

Yan Che was so startled that his hand trembled, and the hot tea from the pot splashed onto his thigh.

With a cry of "Ah!" he leaped up; the hot water had already soaked swiftly through the silk robe onto his trousers. He made haste to strip off the robe, then, mindful that Song Yan sat before him, thought it disrespectful, and so clutching the robe he dashed into the inner chamber, loudly summoning a footboy to attend him. This drew Chen He and the others, who had been posted outside with no notion of what was happening, rushing in, and the room was thrown into confusion.

Song Yan burst out laughing.

All he had done was say he wished to marry Dou Yan, and Yan Che had lost his composure like that. If he truly did marry Dou Yan, how many jaws would drop and hang open for the longest while?

Dou Yan, it seemed, always had this knack for making a lasting impression, for leaving people dazzled.

After a good while, Yan Che emerged from the inner chamber in a change of clothes.

Song Yan asked him, "Well? Is the burn serious? Shall we send for a physician?"

"It's nothing," Yan Che said. "Just a patch of reddened skin." His thoughts were still mired in the shock of the moment, and he looked somewhat dazed. Only after the footboy had tidied the couch did he recover his breath and sit back down, asking Song Yan gravely, "Has something happened to the fourth young lady?"

Today was the fifth of the eighth month—the day Dou Yan ought to have been making her ritual visit to the ancestral hall.

"The bride was switched for another." Song Yan told Yan Che what he had brought to say; as for his nighttime visit to the alley by Yunqi Temple and what had passed between him and Dou Yan, he said not a word, nor did Yan Che ask. But this piece of news set his mind racing, and he grew excited at once.

He had long worried over Song Zhi's marriage.

Now Song Yan held the Yizhi Hall in his grasp, while Song Cen was the rightful Duke of Ying and commanded the Yingzhenguo Estate. Song Yan, though the heir, had shown himself sharp and unyielding, matching Song Cen blow for blow and ending in a draw. Yet Song Cen's marriage had gone poorly, and the Yingzhenguo Estate had no mistress to oversee its household. If Song Zhi's wife could take charge of the household at such a juncture, she could represent the Yingzhenguo Estate in public life, and look after the daily needs of the still-underage Song Han, breaking Song Cen's hold over him. Though no one expected the brothers' relationship to turn intimate again on that account, at least it could reduce the chance of Song Han siding against Song Yan and shore up Song Zhi's position; she could also move freely through the forbidden palace and the inner courtyards of the great houses, building momentum for Song Yan among the consorts and madams, so that Song Cen would think twice and not act rashly.

And the reverse was equally true.

If Song Cen's wife took charge of the Yingzhenguo Estate's household, she might spread rumors and stir up trouble before the consorts and the madams of the various houses, ruining Song Zhi's reputation; she might make it harder still for Song Han and Song Yan to stay in touch, and should Song Han, backed by Song Cen, set his heart on the heir's position, matters would not only grow complicated—at worst Song Yan might even be saddled with a reputation for unfilial conduct, and the situation would turn badly against him. And if that wife should bear a son, and with her natal family's support the brothers fell to fighting, then even if Song Yan won in the end, it would be a case of wounding the enemy a thousand while losing eight hundred of one's own; the Yingzhenguo Estate might well have its foundations shaken, and from there decline altogether...

Yan Che was also unlike Zi'aifeng and the other retainers.

He had not only received the Jiang family's recognition and patronage, but had watched Song Yan grow up; beyond the duty of servant to master, there was also the affection of one who had nursed a calf. He not only hoped Song Zhi's wife would take charge of the Yingzhenguo Estate's household, but also hoped she and Song Yan would be in perfect harmony.

Hearing that Dou Zhiwei's younger sister had married into the Jining Marquis's household in Dou Yan's place, his eyes lit up.

He had always admired Dou Zhiwei's keen intelligence and bold resourcefulness.

Song Yan, so precocious beyond his years, turned into something like a child when he met Dou Zhiwei, and the two always had endless things to say.

More than once he had lamented that Dou Yan had been betrothed to another so early.

If Song Yan were to marry Dou Yan, surely they would live very well together?

And with Dou Yan at Song Yan's side, what was the Yingzhenguo Mansion to him?

Yan Che could not keep the delight from his face, and his mind raced faster still.