Chapter 310 — Playing Matchmaker

At Qi Jin's third-day baby purification ceremony, Dou Yan saw Dou Ming.

Dou Ming wore a vermilion kesi jacket embroidered with a hundred butterflies flitting among flowers, her manner haughty, keeping to herself. She trailed behind the others alone, and only when her name was called did she step up to toss in a few silver ingots. Dou Yan, by contrast, was surrounded by people, and when her name was called, everyone teased, "Let's see what Fourth Aunt throws in, so we can throw the same!"

Dou Yan felt a pang of sentiment.

In this life, she, like Dou Ming, took little interest in the Dou family affairs and merely came to make up the numbers. But in her last life, Dou Ming had not enjoyed the popularity she did now. The Dou women treated Dou Ming with polite courtesy, yet they never fawned and flattered her the way they did Dou Yan—which showed that some things still depended on the individual.

The day after the purification ceremony, Song Yan brought Dou Yan back to the Ying Estate of the Zhenguo Duke.

The wife of Gao Xing, who had stayed behind to keep the house, led a troop of maids, servants' wives, and old women to pay their respects to Dou Yan and recounted the events that had occurred during her absence.

Dou Yan held her usual famille rose teacup painted with plum blossoms, sipped her customary Da Hong Pao tea, and leaned back against the large bolster Su Xin had sewn with her own hands. She drew a breath of contentment and said silently to herself, "Home is best after all!"—never once realizing that she had been married for barely more than a month.

Come evening, the Songs, reunited after a brief parting, enjoyed the sweetness of newlyweds and made their merry commotion, not settling down until the third watch drum sounded.

Song Yan, like a sated lion, lazily stroked the delicate curves of Dou Yan's figure.

Dou Yan was somewhat distracted.

Satisfied, Song Yan gathered Dou Yan into his arms. "What are you thinking about? You're so lost in thought."

"About my cousin's affairs," Dou Yan replied, embracing Song Yan in return and patting his back lightly, much as one might soothe a restless child into quiet.

Song Yan's displeasure deepened. "What about your cousin?"

To fight for one's natal family's honor at home and for one's married family's honor at one's husband's house—this was something every married woman of spirit understood. In her last life, Dou Yan had quarreled so bitterly with the Dou family, yet never once had she spoken ill of her natal family in front of Wei Fan. But without a moment's hesitation, Dou Yan told Song Yan about Zhao Zhangru. Deep in her heart she held a quiet certainty: no matter how unworthy she might be, Song Yan would never disdain her, nor would he mock her over her natal family's troubles.

"I used to think my cousin was a bit scatterbrained," she said with feeling, "but who would have guessed that she understands things better than anyone? Putting on that air of innocence was only to comfort those of us who care about her. The more she does this, the more I want to help her. But a woman's marriage is like a second birth—I can barely make sense of my own affairs, so how would I dare meddle in hers?"

This was exactly as the saying went: the more important a thing, the less one knows what to do about it.

Song Yan pressed his face to hers and murmured suggestively in her ear, "Call me 'good daddy' and I'll do you this favor!"

Dou Yan's face burned. She spat at him in rebuke.

Song Yan, of course, would not let it go. Knowing Dou Yan was ticklish, he lightly tickled her waist. Dou Yan could not dodge in time, and her clear laughter rang out like silver bells in the wind, spilling across the bed curtain.

Before either knew it, they had tumbled together once more…

In the end, Song Yan got his way.

He kissed Dou Zhiwei's fair, round shoulder and mumbled indistinctly, "Isn't it just finding a man? The Imperial Guard has no shortage of anything, but men most of all! Set your mind at ease. Have your aunt stay a few more days in the capital, and I'll find your cousin a fine husband!"

Those who could enter the Imperial Guard came from good families and backgrounds—that alone provided a basic guarantee.

Dou Yan reminded Song Yan, "My uncle's family wants a live-in son-in-law!"

"A live-in son-in-law is even better," Song Yan said, his thoughts wandering elsewhere. "Their family must have brothers. Brothers and sisters, one referral leading to another—we're bound to find a suitable match."

That was true enough.

Besides, Song Yan surely knew more people than she did, cooped up in the inner quarters all day long!

She made up her mind. Since nothing was settled yet, she dared not confide the whole truth to her aunt, and merely said that on the tenth day of the tenth month she was going with her Sixth Aunt to offer incense at Qixia Temple and wanted her aunt to come along, adding, "They say the Thousand-Hand Guanyin enshrined at Kaiyuan Temple is most efficacious for matters of marriage."

Her aunt was indeed moved and decided to set out after the tenth.

The next day, Song Yan went to the Ministry of War and found Zheng An, a director in the Ministry's Bureau of Military Appointments: "I want a list of Imperial Guardsmen between eighteen and twenty-four years of age, unmarried, at least five foot seven in height, of decent appearance, and not the only son in their family." After a moment's thought, he added, "Those who have studied books come first!"

Zheng An was stunned. Then he frowned almost imperceptibly and said, "May I ask whether the Young Heir has a handwritten order from His Majesty, or from the Five Army Command, or from the Minister of War?"

"No!" Song Yan looked at Zheng An with perfect composure.

Zheng An hesitated for a long while. "I beg the Young Heir's pardon, but the Imperial Guard is still His Majesty's bodyguard, charged with protecting the Emperor. The list cannot be given out at will."

Song Yan nodded and, saying nothing, turned and left.

Zheng An was deeply uneasy, but soon reassured himself.

He had acted by the rules; even if his superiors blamed someone, they could not blame him.

But by the afternoon, Zheng An was summoned by his own superior—Quan Ziyi, Right Vice Minister of War.

"Ever since the Qiu Lingwei affair last time, the Ministry of Personnel has been clamoring to investigate the Ministry of War's register of hereditary appointments over the past ten years. This morning at the cabinet council they brought up the old matter again. I doubt they'll let it rest unless we let them look," Quan Ziyi said with a smile. "You're an old hand in the Ministry of War, and you oversee the Bureau of Military Appointments. You've dealt with those clerks from Personnel for years and know them all well. I'm leaving this matter to you. Make it look clean, and don't let them find any fault with it."

The matter came out of nowhere, and Zheng An had no choice but to lead several veteran clerks of the Bureau of Military Appointments to help the Ministry examine the registers.

As the hour for leaving the office drew near, Zheng An naturally had to arrange a meal for the Personnel Ministry men.

He returned to his office to change clothes, only to find the Bureau's chief clerk in the storeroom with seven or eight men, copying out documents, and as they copied, one of them said, "This 'decent appearance'—what standard are we supposed to use?"

To prevent impostors, every man's physical description was recorded in his file.

Zheng An immediately thought of Song Yan's purpose in coming.

He entered the storeroom with a dark expression.

The chief clerk at once came up to him with a smile and said eagerly, "Director An is back! What instructions might you have?"

Zheng An pointed at the registers strewn everywhere and demanded, "Who ordered these copied out?"