Chapter 362 — Attachments

The Yingzhenguo Mansion had held noble rank for a hundred years, and over the generations its ties with the great houses of the capital had grown so tangled that no one could hope to unravel them. And the spring banquet was precisely the season for the various mansions to deepen their friendships, mend their ruptures, and reweave their webs of connection. If you thought hosting the Yingzhenguo Mansion's spring banquet was so very difficult, that was not necessarily so—the standards and the etiquette for such banquets all followed precedent, and whoever held charge of the household's coffers need only keep to the book. But if you thought it was that easy, you would be wrong again—last year a certain someone had come to the Yingzhenguo Mansion as a guest and perhaps warranted a first-class seat; this year, perhaps a third-class one was all he deserved.

Song Cen felt that even he found it hard to strike that balance, to say nothing of Dou Yan, who had only just married into the family.

He was quite content to hand the Yingzhenguo Mansion's spring banquet over to Dou Yan.

Dou Zhiwei did not understand these things, true—but she could summon Song Zhiren at any time and on any whim; Yan Che and Zi'ai Peak were both at her command; and beyond that, she had Song Yan.

"This year's spring banquet, I will host it myself." He patted Dou Zhiwei's hand, soothing her, and said to her, "I have already spoken to the Emperor. The Yingzhenguo Mansion's line is thin, and you are with child, unfit for such strain. His Majesty agreed most readily—which is why he has granted me five whole days of leave."

Yet to this moment she still had not been given the register of those the mansion would be feasting these past few days.

Dou Yan laughed, a bright, rippling laugh.

The more she looked at him, the more Song Cen seemed to her like a woman.

Song Yan could not fathom what Song Cen was thinking; but from a woman's vantage, she found it easy enough to guess what Song Cen meant to do.

She would make Song Cen's jaw drop to the floor.

She instructed those around her to breathe not a single word, then settled herself comfortably at home to eat.

So when Zeng Wu, at Song Cen's command, brought over the list of guests to be feasted that day for Dou Yan to review, Dou Yan set down the half-finished bowl of bird's-nest soup, called out in a crisp, ringing voice, "Yantang," and said, "The Zhenguo Lord has brought the list of today's guests. You had best hurry to the upper courtyard. The stewardesses are all waiting there for your instructions!" She added, "It is nearly the noon meal, and the invited guests will soon be arriving. If the guests arrive and the food is not yet ready, that would be a fine disaster."

The tone was that of a mistress giving orders to a steward at her side.

Zeng Wu was aghast.

How dared the madam give orders to the heir apparent in such a manner?

Yet Song Yan answered as though it were the most natural thing in the world: "Understood. I will go at once. It is too cold outside—do not go running about the house, and mind you do not catch a chill."

Zeng Wu felt sweat start on his brow, and a chill run down his spine.

How had he ever come to believe the Zhenguo Lord's words? To go muddling about in this business alongside the Zhenguo Lord.

If the Zhenguo Lord offended the heir apparent, what could the heir apparent possibly do to his own father?

But if Zeng Wu offended the heir apparent, then Lü Zheng was his cautionary example.

Zeng Wu tiptoed after Song Yan out of Yizhi Hall, made a circuit, then doubled back. With a thud he dropped to his knees before Dou Zhiwei: "Madam, it is not that I did not wish to bring the list sooner—I only just got my hands on it myself. I did not delay a single moment! If you do not believe me, you may ask the young servant at my side! There is no one I would dare deceive, least of all you! In my heart I have always stood with you, Madam. Take last time, for instance—the silver-frost charcoal in the Zhenguo Lord's rooms was nearly used up. By the Zhenguo Lord's own intent, I was to go buy more outside directly; but fearing it would damage your good name, did I not at once send a little maid to carry word to your Sister Ruozhu?"

That was because you were afraid of getting yourself tangled up in it, was it not?

Dou Zhiwei waved a hand, unconcerned.

She was not about to argue matters with the likes of Zeng Wu.

Still, she could not help a considerable sigh of feeling.

Song Yan's tiger-skin borrowed authority was truly a fine thing to wield!

Otherwise, even if Zeng Wu feared being drawn in, he would never have groveled quite so abjectly.

She watched Zeng Wu go trudging toward the door, head hanging—and suddenly something stirred in her. She called him back and said, "Three maidservants in the Second Lord's rooms are to be released after the New Year. Does the Zhenguo Lord have any plans for them?"

At this Zeng Wu perked up and said hurriedly, "Rest easy, Madam. I will go and make inquiries for you at once."

Dou Yan smiled coldly. "No need. Since you still have to make inquiries, I will simply have Zhu Ruo ask the Zhenguo Lord instead—I daresay she will be quicker than you."

Zeng Wu deflated at once. Sheepishly he said, "The Zhenguo Lord wishes to assign a maid named Chuan'er from his own household to serve the Second Lord. As for the third-class maids, he truly said nothing."

Most likely he thought them beneath his notice.

Dou Yan asked him with a half-smile: "And you? Has no one come begging at your door? To serve in the Second Lord's rooms—even as a third-class maid—one may wear gold and silver, order the old women about; it counts as a fine post."

Zeng Wu's face flushed crimson, and he said hastily, "These are matters for the masters—how would it fall to me to stick my nose in?"

"Just so long as you know it!" Dou Yan cut him off before he could finish. "You may go. If I have need of you, I will send for you."

Zeng Wu withdrew in great unease.

Sulan pouted and said, "Madam, what is the use of talking to him about such things? I say, since the Zhenguo Lord has already made arrangements for that second-class maid, there is no sense in our quarreling with him over it—if it comes to the Second Lord's ears, it will only be we who are in the wrong. Better to invite the Second Lord over and have him promote whichever maids he favors to second or third class, and slip our own people in among the rough-work maids. As a rule, the ones the masters guard against least are precisely the rough-work maids and the old women."

And, of course, it would also put a burr between the Zhenguo Lord and the Second Lord, sowing a little discord.

Only that last thought was not one she could well say to the madam. The Zhenguo Lord was the madam's father-in-law as well; to speak it plainly would only put the madam in an awkward spot.

Dou Yan gave a little "oh" and said, "Three days apart and one must look on a scholar with new eyes. Ever since our Sulan got betrothed to Chen He, it is as though a stopper has been pulled from her understanding—even such things as these she knows now. Tell me honestly—was it Chen He who told you all this?"

Sulan turned scarlet.

Fortunately she was a forthright sort by nature, and though abashed she still answered with poise, "Yes. He saw I was unhappy and asked what was the matter, and that was when he said those things to me."

Song Cen meant to assign the second-class maid Chuan'er from his own rooms to serve Song Han; Dou Yan had long since found this out. She was merely taking the chance, seeing how thoroughly Zeng Wu feared Song Yan, to give him one more clout over the head and teach him a lesson—who knew but that he might yet prove useful.

At this Dou Yan could not help a smile, though it also left her a little melancholy—like a daughter grown old enough to marry, and her mother unable to bear the parting.