Chapter 410 — Three Carvings

Song Yan's mouth curved slightly.

He said mildly: "But Li Liang's account was coherent and well-grounded — he did not look like a man telling lies. And when I questioned the old family servants, they all said the same. So I gave the girl the name Jiang Yan and brought her back with me. It would not do to hand her over to the authorities as Father suggested. Once this became a great matter, we could only open up the events of that year. It is said the midwife who delivered my mother was introduced by my eldest uncle's wife — I fear my uncle's household would be dragged in as well, and then the Song family would become the laughingstock of the capital. I think Father would be wise to weigh this matter carefully."

"Do you mean to muddy the blood of the Song clan?" Song Cen glared at Song Yan with wide eyes, looking as though he would gladly devour him.

"Whether the Song blood is muddied, you know best of all in your heart — why put the question to me?" Song Yan said calmly and unhurriedly. "Or shall we take the Li family to court after all? Matters are uncertain; with the authorities poking about, who knows but that some person or affair neglected by the Li family back then might suddenly surface to prove Father's innocence. Would you not say that is the way of it?"

His gaze rested on Song Cen like frost.

Dou Yan's head, however, rang with a single booming note.

Muddy the blood!

Among common folk there was naturally no fear of such talk — so long as the clan accepted it, the matter was settled.

But houses of rank and merit were different; it touched upon the succession of titles.

And the Ying Estate of the Duke of Zhenguo was different still.

The ancestors of the Ying Estate had once served as foster sons to the founding Emperor, and the imperial house had always regarded them as "brothers of our own blood."

In that instant she seemed to half understand, and her eyes could not help turning toward Song Han.

Song Han's face was the color of blood; he was staring at Song Yan, and the corner of his eye collided squarely with Dou Yan, who stood shoulder to shoulder with Song Yan.

He dropped his gaze and avoided Dou Zhiwei's eyes.

Dou Yan fell into thought — only to have her train of reflection cut short by a furious shout from Song Cen.

"Are you threatening me?" he cried, face livid, pointing at Song Yan. "You unnatural son!"

Song Yan did not take Song Cen's words to heart, keeping to his composed and unhurried manner. He said gently: "A son does not speak of his father's faults. How could I threaten Father? Father misunderstands me. I merely feel that since I have already brought the girl back, there is no possible reason to send her away again — especially when the Li family calls her a daughter of the Song. I ask only that Father permit me to acknowledge her. There is no need for Father to be so enraged; it makes you look as though your conscience were uneasy."

Song Cen's face went purple; he glared at Song Yan and had just gotten out the word "You—" when Song Yan continued: "That reminds me — a few days ago an old servant named Song Shize came looking for me from Tianjin, saying he had once served Grandfather. You happened to be away from home, so I met with Song Shize on your behalf. Would you like to see the man as well? According to him, when the Ying Estate was robbed that year, many people fled, and now they wish to return — but the stewards and serving women of the household have all been replaced, and they have no way in. So they have come one after another to these old retainers. Father, if you saw Song Shize, it would be the very occasion to explain to him just what happened. Though the Ying Estate fears no trouble, with so many hereditary servants gone missing, if it were brought before His Majesty it would not look well." With that he took up his teacup, bent his head, and gently blew the floating leaves aside, then sipped.

Song Cen stared at Song Yan in alarm and dread.

Song Shize!

If he had not already dealt with so many at the time — and lacked proper cause to move against the rest without alarming the other hereditary servants — why would he ever have let the old wretch go!

And now he had thrown in his lot with Song Yan.

Did the man not know who the Duke of Yingguo was?

What did these old relics think they were doing?

Did they mean to turn the heavens upside down?

Had he known these old things had such gall, he should have struck without mercy and done away with them all.

Song Cen laughed in his fury. "Then call that Song Shize in! I should like to see who gave a servant the nerve to accuse his master."

Song Yan smiled faintly and sent someone to summon Song Shize.

The unnatural son actually dared to call him!

Song Cen hurled his teacup at Song Yan.

Song Yan turned aside and avoided it with ease.

Song Cen roared: "You unnatural son, you dare to defy your father!"

Watching, Dou Yan felt thoroughly sick of it all.

She muttered under her breath: "Even a cornered rabbit will bite — and this is a man, not a rabbit! He only pitied the poor girl and wished to give her a place. Does the Duke fly into such a rage because he protests too much? The Heir was kind enough to clean up your mess for you, and a fine thanks you give him — you think him a meddler. Had we known, we should never have taken up this business at all; we might have let those hereditary servants with nowhere to turn throw themselves on the mercy of the Earl of Guang'en instead…"

At these words Song Cen's hair stood on end.

So Song Yan's boldness came of collusion with the Earl of Guang'en.

Song Yan he did not fear.

After all, would the man dare kill him?

But the Earl of Guang'en was another matter.

He had seen with his own eyes how ruthless that man could be.

Panic surged through Song Cen; his face went red and white by turns — a fine sight indeed.

Truly a wretch who would not drink the toast and must needs drink the forfeit!

Dou Yan truly could not stomach this father-in-law.

Song Shize was led in by Wuyi.

He performed the full ceremony of obeisance before Song Cen with reverent care.

Song Cen looked at that world-weary old face, thought of the Earl of Guang'en, and in that moment felt his interest drain away entirely.

He barked at his guards: "Get in here and drag this old thing down and give him thirty strokes of the plank!"

Twenty strokes could kill a man — let alone thirty!

This time Song Shize's hopes were truly dead.

For people like them, all they sought was a way to stay alive.

To serve one's master loyally and rise in the world — that was one way to live.

To die for one's master and leave a little sheltering shade for one's descendants — that too was a way to live.

But when a man like Song Cen tore down his own embankment, then even if they wished to be loyal, wished to die for their master, it was nothing but a joke.

No one would even want it.

He knelt and knocked his head to the ground before Song Cen with grave solemnity.

His expression was somewhat strange.

As though he were taking his leave of Song Cen.

Song Cen, in his fury, did not notice — but Dou Yan, keen-eyed as a hair, did.

She could not help casting Song Yan a look of great admiration.

Song Yan, meanwhile, called out "Father" in a slow, measured voice, and said: "If you cut the grass but do not pull the roots, it will sprout again when the spring wind blows. Father wishes to deal with a hereditary retainer, and His Majesty has been in poor temper these last days, so I will not stay here and vex your eyes. Please permit us to withdraw."

He rose, standing apart from the matter, nodded to Dou Yan, and signaled for her to follow him.

Dou Yan fell in two paces behind Song Yan and followed him out.

Song Cen and Song Han were both rather dumbfounded.

They had both assumed Song Yan would shield this Song Shize.

The guards who had poured in hurriedly made way, stepping to one side.

But Song Shize understood.