Chapter 465 — A Match

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After all, Wang Shuying was still alive, whereas Zhao Guqiu had been dead for over a decade.

He slapped his thigh in sudden excitement. "That's a fine idea! We'll do it your way!" With that, he finished his evening meal and headed for Elm Tree Lane.

When Fifth Madam heard of it, she said, "Sixth Sister-in-law and I had both thought of it, only neither of us dared bring it up. Who'd have guessed Seventh Uncle would come round all at once?"

Dou Bingheng laughed too. "He's been conducting himself with a good deal more method these days than before."

Fifth Madam nodded, and gazing at the silver threads newly sprouting at her husband's temples, said with a pang, "If they can be settled smoothly, you'll have that much less to worry over."

Dou Bingheng smiled gently at his wife and pressed an ink stick into her hand. "Here, grind the ink for me. I'll write to Second Brother and have him add a line to the family register."

Fifth Madam answered with a smile and a "yes," rolled up her sleeves, and quietly set to grinding ink for her husband.

Back home, Dou Yan properly "rewarded" Song Yan. In the midst of his delight, Song Yan grew a little uneasy. "Has something happened?"

Dou Yan did not know whether to laugh or cry, and shot him a look. "What could possibly have happened?"

Song Yan chuckled and, unwilling to forgo his "benefits," pulled half-bare Dou Yan into his arms and murmured, "I want to go in from behind again."

As he spoke, that thing was already pressing hard and stiff against the inside of Dou Zhiwei's thigh.

Dou Yan had not expected him to be in the mood again so soon, and was badly startled, glancing at him sidelong. "Isn't it chaotic enough for you already?"

She did not know that her face was flushed like the dawn, and that the glance she cast him was like a crabapple blossom beaded with dew, indescribably charming and alluring, which only made Song's inner fire burn hotter.

"Let them come in and tidy up afterwards," Song Yan said, his hand already closing over the fullness of her breast, pressing Dou Yan down onto the bed.

Aroused by him once more, Dou Yan simply closed her eyes and let him have his way.

The next morning, the wet nurse brought Yuanheng over for his feeding.

Dou Yan was so embarrassed she scarcely dared look at Yuan's face, and forced herself to be calm as she instructed the wet nurse, "You feed him this morning!"

The wet nurse withdrew, puzzled.

Ganlu, who was in attendance, thought of the bedding that had been changed, stained all over with every sort of mark, and vaguely guessed at something; her face flushed as well.

Only Song Yan, the culprit, looked utterly composed, unhurriedly sipping his congee.

But the moment he stepped out the door, the corners of his mouth curved high.

Yuanheng grudgingly took a few mouthfuls from the wet nurse, and in less than an hour was whimpering and burrowing toward Dou Yan's breast.

The interval had been too short, and Dou Zhiwei's body had not yet recovered, so Yuanheng got only half a meal; in less than half an hour he was fussing again, throwing the whole schedule into disarray.

Dou Yan blushed inwardly, and doting on her son as she did, let him feed whenever he wanted, with the result that Yuanheng clung to her bosom without a moment apart. So when Ruozhu came to report that Jiang Yan had seemed somewhat absent-minded these days, she had no choice but to take Yuanheng in her arms and go to Bishui Pavilion.

On closer look, Jiang Yan had grown somewhat thinner than before.

Dou Yan let her play with Yuanheng and asked, "Is something weighing on your mind?"

Jiang Yan was silent a moment, then said in a low voice, "I want to go to Puji Temple and burn a stick of incense..."

Dou Yan found this odd, but when she pressed further, the girl blushed and said nothing. Dou Yan supposed that with her marriage approaching, it was only natural she should have some private thoughts she was too shy to voice, and so she smilingly agreed, and had a carriage and a few rough-work women servants arranged for the outing.

Jiang Yan thanked her shyly, and then said timidly, "Might we invite Twelfth Sister to come along?"

"With her to accompany you, so much the better." Dou Yan had meant to go with her herself, but now that she had a close sister of her own, Dou Yan was glad to let go, and so encouraged her to write an invitation to Jiang Ling.

Jiang Ling had been married into the Wu family for over half a year now, and the couple were loving and their life smooth, yet for some unknown reason there had been no sign of a child. Her mother-in-law consoled her that such things could not be hurried, but inwardly she felt scorched as if by fire, and was just wondering whether she ought to go burn a stick of incense to the Bodhisattva Guanyin when Jiang Yan's invitation arrived; she accepted with pleasure.

Madam Wu, who had herself endured from grandson's wife to mother-in-law, understood Jiang Ling's feelings well. She personally ordered incense prepared and saw Jiang Ling into the carriage.

Song Yan also wished Jiang Yan to keep company with friends, and when he learned she was going to Puji Temple to burn incense, he had a hundred taels of fine silver sent to her for incense money.

Jiang Yan declined it.

Song's face immediately turned ashen.

Dou Xu shot Jiang Yan a look.

Only then did Jiang Yan belatedly realize she had done something wrong; she hurriedly accepted the silver, thanked Song Yan, and withdrew in confusion.

Song Ke rubbed his temples.

Dou Ji smiled and held out her palm to him, complaining playfully, "The silver shop's manager is bringing Sister Yan's wedding jewelry today, and I want a pearl headband made!"

Song Yan laughed despite himself, and pulling Dou Yan down onto his knee, bit her ear and said, "When even I belong to you, would I stint you a pearl headband? Not a pearl headband—I'll have a hundred-treasure necklace made for you, how's that?"

"Who wears a hundred-treasure necklace in ordinary life?" Dou Yan teased back. "You simply don't want me to have my way."

Song Yan slipped his hand inside her collar and said with a teasing laugh, "Let me have a taste, and the pearl headband gets made, and the hundred-treasure necklace gets made too..."

Dou Yan admitted defeat and sprang up from his knee.

Song Yan roared with laughter, utterly delighted, and caught hold of her to keep her from leaving.

The couple was still tangled up in their talk when Wu Yi's voice came from beyond the door curtain: "Young Master, Geng Li is here."

Song Yan released Dou Yan and gently kissed her cheek. "I'll be back shortly," he said softly.

Dou Yan dutifully straightened his collar for him and saw him out of the inner chamber. She stood at the doorway until his figure had passed out of the main courtyard, then turned back inside.

Though Song Yan had shown nothing on his face, she had felt his body go slightly rigid at the name "Geng Li."

She summoned Liu Zhang, the young servant Du Wei had left behind in the household, and asked whether he knew who Geng Li was.

The more he knew, the better he understood Dou Yan's place in Song Yan's heart—and the more wary he would be of Dou Yan.

Liu Zhang answered with his teeth chattering. "This humble one knows of him, madam. He is the foremost strategist under the Prince of Liao."

Dou Yan was astonished. She dismissed Liu Zhang and sat waiting for Song Yan's return on the large kang by the window, her mind ill at ease.

Now that he had become Chief Commissioner, the Prince of Liao's hand had finally reached out for Song Yan.

Could it be that Heaven had its own design, hidden in the workings of fate?

And the Prince of Liao ascending to the throne—was that, too, the will of Heaven?

Dou Yan turned it over silently in her mind, so lost in thought that the tea from her cup dripped onto her horse-face skirt without her noticing.

The maids rushed forward in a flurry to attend to her.