Chapter 128 — Thanks

Dou Xin rose to her feet. "Young Master Mei is an honored guest, and it is rare that you come this way. Zhending cannot compare with the capital for abundance of goods, but happily the farmstead's ingredients are fresh. I will go speak to the kitchen and have them prepare a few dishes in season for you to try, Young Master Mei." Just the chance to ask when they meant to exchange the hostage back. "If only Old Chen were here," she sighed. "He could keep you company with some talk, or a game of chess, so that you would not be left here alone and bored."

Song Ke could not tell whether she had failed to understand his words, or simply had no intention of releasing Chen Yanzhou at all. At this his eyes flickered, and he smiled. "No matter. The scenery here at the farmstead is fine and beautiful; everywhere the eye falls is a painting. There is much here to admire."

No wonder he was to enjoy twenty unbroken years of imperial favor as a powerful minister.

Looking out from the main hall, two tall ginkgo trees stood in the courtyard, one to either side, and beyond them there was nothing else at all.

And this was what he called fine and beautiful scenery?

This was what people meant by lying through one's teeth with eyes wide open!

Dou Yan cursed him inwardly, but her face betrayed nothing; she smiled and made a few polite remarks, then turned and went to the kitchen.

She dawdled in the kitchen until it was nearly time for the midday meal before returning to the hall.

In one corner of the hall were piled Song Zhi's "humble gifts," and Song Yan was standing before the qin table by the study window, teasing the goldfish kept in a jar there.

"You are back!" He clapped his hands and sat down in the armchair before the qin table, as leisurely and at ease as though he were in his own home.

How arrogant!

Dou Yan muttered to herself, but smilingly invited him, "It is time to eat."

Song Yan gave an "oh."

Ganlu brought in water for him to wash his hands.

Su Juan laid out the chopsticks.

He glanced at Ganlu and Su Juan, then asked Dou Yan, "What was the name of that maid who snatched the child from Yu Jian's arms last time?"

"Her name is Su Lan," Dou Yan said, and badly wanted to ask whether all the needles had been pulled out of Yu Jian's body.

Song Yan nodded. He sat down at the table, and seeing only one set of bowls and chopsticks, asked in surprise, "Are you not eating lunch?"

Would that not be asking for trouble?

Dou Xin said, "I can eat in the kitchen!" The implication being that it was not proper for the two of them to dine at the same table.

Song Yan said, "There is no need for such trouble, surely?"

Dou Yan insisted.

Song Yan was about to say more when a soup caught his eye, lovely and green; he ladled out a spoonful.

But the moment the soup touched his lips there was a strange taste, and he could not help frowning. "What is this?"

"It is okra soup," Dou Xin said. "A wild vegetable from the hills of the farmstead; it clears heat and resolves toxin. It can treat malignant sores and carbuncles. The weather is hot, and you have come dusty and travel-worn all the way from the capital, so eat a little of this. It is good for the health."

Song Yan nodded and drank the soup spoonful by spoonful, meek as a child.

Dou Yan was mortified.

Her original intention had been to put Song Zhi in his place...

Dou Yan beat a hasty retreat, took her midday meal in the small side room by the kitchen, drank some tea, and composed herself before going to the hall.

A cup of tea sat by Song Yan's hand; he was staring absently at the ginkgo trees beyond the window.

Hearing her approach, he looked up and smiled. "Why do you suppose there are two ginkgo trees planted in the courtyard?"

Dou Zhiwei's gaze followed his.

"I do not know either," she said with a smile. "It seems the two ginkgo trees were already here the first time I came to the estate. I have no idea who planted them."

"Our family has plenty of such inexplicable things too." Song Yan's tone was easy, as though settling in for a long talk with Dou Yan. "There is a small hill in our garden called Cuiyun Ridge, and not far from Cuiyun Ridge stands a rockery piled from Taihu stones, all overgrown with every kind of creeping vine, called Chuiqingyue. And yet between Cuiyun Ridge and Chuiqingyue someone actually built a stretch of city wall, called 'Yuguan Pass.' It looks utterly bizarre—I have no idea which of our Xuanming Sect ancestors took it into his head to do such a thing."

"Is that so?" Dou Yan replied perfunctorily.

Song Yan gazed at her.

A pair of tranquil eyes, without a ripple, like an ancient well a thousand years old.

A chill rose in Dou Yan's heart. She forced a smile. "What is it?"

Song Yan was silent a moment, then said, "Are you very afraid of me?"

By instinct Dou Yan wanted to say "No," but she realized at once that this was a fine opportunity to draw a clear line between herself and Song Yan. After a moment's thought, she answered frankly, "Yes! I am a little afraid of you."

"Is it because I mean to kill you?"

No.

It is because you killed your own father and your younger brother with your own hands.

But none of that had happened yet; she had no way to offer it as proof.

"Yes!" That was all she could answer.

Song Yan lowered his eyelids, his voice somewhat subdued. "I am very sorry!" His tone was utterly sincere. "If that is the case, I beg your pardon." He raised his eyes, his expression grave and earnest. "I apologize to you most solemnly."

※

To the brothers and sisters reading this, here is the belated update for March 21.

o(n_n)o~

※