Chapter 419 — The Truth

"." Song Yan began unhurriedly, "I was thinking—if I killed Song Han, could we announce that the Li family affair had come to light, that Song Han, in his guilt, tried to do away with me, that Father rushed over to stop him and was accidentally wounded by Song Han, and that I, in a rage, killed the mad, child-murdering Song Han? Tell me, would that explanation hold up?"

Song Cen's eyes split with fury. "You dare!"

"What wouldn't I dare?" Song Yan said. "Or do you plan to adopt Song Qin or Song Duo after all? If that's your intent, I imagine our eldest uncle and our third and fourth uncles would all clap their hands in delight. But perhaps you have other plans. After all, you're still in your term of office—take a new wife, and you'd have a legitimate son again; no need to adopt Song Qin or Song Duo. Unfortunately, I'm the sort who returns every grudge. Even in death, I'd drag someone down with me. I'd have no choice but to rake up the Li family affair, and what would come of that, well—who can say."

Song Cen glared, brows bristling, yet dared not take up Song Yan's words.

Song Han stared at Song Cen, his face a mask of horror.

Song Yan was right.

Song Cen was not yet forty this year; if he remarried, he would naturally have a legitimate son again.

The only reason he had just two sons now, Song Yan and Song Han himself, was that Song Yan kept him suppressed and left him no way to remarry.

Once Song Yan's suppression was gone, what regard would he have left for this unloved son of his?

And he, poor fool, had been dazzled by the name of the second master of the Yingzhen Ducal House, thinking that without Song Yan, certain things would fall to him and no one else.

All of it, sheer delusion!

Suddenly he recalled the censor's impeachment of his granduncle, the Duke of Dingguo.

Keeping the bandits to make himself important!

If Song Yan grew stronger, and the rift between him and Father grew harder and harder to bridge... then Father would come to depend on him more and more, wouldn't he?

Song Han's eyes glittered, as though he had glimpsed a thread of light through a sky of heavy gloom.

Song Yan curled his lip, a flicker of mockery passing through his eyes.

If he meant to kill a man, when had he ever needed to waste so many words on him?

He had said all this now; if Song Han was still too dull to have the least realization, then his death would be no loss at all!

Song Yan's gaze turned cold. To Song Cen he said, "Father. This is, after all, a family matter—why must it be made known to all and sundry? I say, let these guards withdraw. After all, the Yingzhen Ducal House has had two break-ins in a mere three years; a third, and the Capital's Shuntian Jing'an City Garrison would be a laughingstock. Wouldn't you agree?"

Song Cen's mouth twitched with rage.

Who had caused the two break-ins at the Yingzhen Ducal House?

And he had the gall to bring it up.

And to use it as a threat against him, no less.

Yet Song Cen could not but nod.

He could not stage another great purge as he had three years ago—a thing may happen once, but not twice. Overdo it, and he would draw attention. And today Song Yan had come with a scheme against his unpreparedness; to keep pressing would gain him nothing.

He gave Guard Chang a faint nod.

Guard Chang and the others, and Lu Ming and his men, sheathed their blades, one after the other.

Song Yan smiled. "Father, I must ask you and the guards to wait outside a moment. I have a few words to say to Song Han alone."

Song Cen started, then flew into a rage. "What do you mean to do now? If you have something to say, ask me directly—there's no need to make things hard for your brother!"

Song Yan gave a derisive laugh. "Very well, then I'll ask you: has Li Miaoniang ever come looking for Song Han?"

Li Miaoniang. How dared he bring up that woman before so many guards!

Song Cen trembled with fury, but gazing at the room full of guards, he had no choice but to nod, his face ashen, casting Song Han a warning look as he folded his hands behind his back and led his men out of the inner chamber.

Song Yan released Song Han and sat down in the grand armchair beside him.

Looking down at Song Han from his height, a trace of mockery surfaced in his gaze. "Song Han, you may choose to tell me now. Of course, you may also choose to tell me before Father. Only—before Father, I won't be so easy to deal with; I'll have no choice but to call Lu Ming in and have him teach you some manners first..."

Song Han knew Song Yan meant every word—this was no bluff. A chill ran through him, and he could not help but shudder.

Slowly he sat up, tears brimming in his eyes, and lowered his head, murmuring, "I—I heard Mother say to Father, 'I never thought you would truly help the Jiang family; I misjudged you before. Since your heart still clings to Li Miaoniang, and you even had a daughter with her, I'm not so petty as that—pick a good day, and bring Li Miaoniang and her daughter into the house. If I remember rightly, Li Miaoniang's daughter is the same age as Tian'en; girls mature early, and she's already of an age to be betrothed—bring her in, and we can arrange a match.'"

Song Yan was stunned.

He had guessed many things, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined this was what had set it all off.

Song Han, unaware, was anxious for Song Yan to believe him and weighed every word with care. "I thought it very strange, so I went to ask Nurse Xie. Nurse Xie sighed and told me nothing—only that I would know in time.

"But from what Mother and Nurse Xie said, I gathered that Father had once kept a mistress outside in his early years. Though they had long since broken off, a daughter had been left behind.

"I was very curious, and wanted to see what the girl looked like. So I found a way to learn where Li Miaoniang lived..." He broke off, his head sinking lower still.

Song Yan sneered. "It took me great effort to learn where Li Miaoniang lives—and how did you learn it? I fear it wasn't you who found where Li Miaoniang lived, but Li Miaoniang who found you. When did you learn that Li Miaoniang was your own mother? Eight? Nine? Or ten, when you were clamoring that you would surpass me?"

"I didn't, I didn't!" Song Han shook his head frantically. "I didn't know at all before—I just happened to overhear Nurse Xie and Mother mention the address and kept it in my mind... When I saw Yigui, my mind went blank, I was struck dumb; when I ran out, Li Miaoniang spotted me. She came to find me, said she was my own mother, said times were hard, and asked me to give her some silver... I never wanted a mother like that—fickle, faithless, turning this way and that... But I didn't dare not give it to her... She said if I didn't give her silver, she'd go and see Mother..."

"So you killed her!" Song Yan lifted an eyebrow, his tone light.

"It wasn't me." Song Han's voice was frantic. "She was extorting me—I had no way out, so I told Father. Father said he would deal with it, and told me to pretend I knew nothing."

"Whether it was you or not makes no difference to me," Song Yan said. "But I imagine that if Li Miaoniang knew she had been killed by her own son, her expression would have been splendid, her heart a tangled mess." He turned to Song Han with keen interest. "Were you there when she died? Though given your cowardice, I doubt you were present. Fortunately Li Dasheng was. When she saw him, she must have understood who wanted her dead. A pity she did not escape—avenging herself on her own son would have been entertaining."

Song Han stared at Song Yan with wide eyes, as though at some monstrous beast, frightened and flustered.

Song Yan looked at him with contempt.

This was the sort of man he was—bold enough to kill, but not bold enough to admit it, and still hoping to contend with him.