Chapter 153 — On the Verge

"Good!" Song Dan's expression softened. "Now go and rest!"

Libai, who had come over with Song Han, stepped forward with a smile and took his hand. "Second Young Master, we mustn't keep the Heir from resting and tending his wounds."

Libai had once been a senior maid at Jiang Shi's side. It was because she was even-tempered, steady, and dependable that she had been made Song Han's head maid.

She had been with Song Han in the mourning hall east of the main house since early that morning.

The moment Song Yan burst in, he had posted trusted men around the mourning hall.

She knew something grave had happened, and had kept coaxing Song Han to stay inside the mourning hall.

After Song Yan had Xizhi Hall cleared out, he at once had Libai bring Song Han over, saying only that he had angered their father, been beaten for it, and that his own guards had clashed with the household guards.

Song Han was half doubtful, but he did not press further.

When Libai said Song Yan needed to rest as well, he nodded obediently and withdrew with her.

Xia Lian came in carrying a bowl of pitch-black decoction.

Everyone at Yizhi Hall who had once served Song Zhi closely had been beaten so badly they could not move; those still on their feet were third- and fourth-rate servants at best. Xia Lian dared not entrust so vital a task as boiling medicine to anyone else, and so did it himself.

Song Yan took the medicine and drained it in one gulp, then asked Xia Lian, "Have Father's men cleaned up everything outside?"

"Yes!" Xia Lian was answering when Chen He walked in, eyes red and swollen, face haggard.

He carried a bowl of congee in his hands.

Song Yan looked at him and sighed. "Didn't I tell you to go back and keep your wet nurse company? Why are you still here? There are people to do these things..."

"Heir," Chen He did not argue. He only set the congee on a nearby stool and said in a low voice, "Wuyi and Songluo are both doing quite well. Once their wounds have healed, it won't be too late for me to go back and see my mother." Then he added, "You've hardly eaten anything today, Heir. I put some yam in the congee the way you usually like it. Please try some!" A trace of stubbornness showed in his eyes and brow.

Everyone has something they hold fast to.

Song Ke said nothing more. He lay by the bed and drank the congee.

The guard sent to find Matron Xie had returned.

"Heir," he said, head lowered, "Matron Xie passed away ten days ago... They say she misstepped off a flight of stairs. Broke her neck. Died on the spot..."

Song Yan froze.

He stared without expression at the white congee in his spoon, letting the faint steam wash over his face.

After a long while, he silently went on and finished the whole bowl, then instructed Xia Lian, "No matter what it takes, find the senior maids who served my mother!"

They had never found those maids.

Xia Lian answered gravely and, entrusting Song Yan to Chen He's care, withdrew.

Song Yan began writing letters again.

Song Cen, meanwhile, paced the room, unable to sit still.

This was an opportunity.

Once lost, it would be hard to come by again.

But if he persisted, what was he to say before the Emperor?

He was racking his brains when Guard Chang came in.

"Lord Zhenguo," he said in a low voice, "the Second Young Master is at Yizhi Hall now!"

The two brothers had always been close. It was only natural that Song Yan, fearing Song Han would be frightened, would have him brought to Yizhi Hall.

For a moment Song Cen did not grasp Guard Chang's meaning.

Guard Chang had to step closer and whisper, "Lord Zhenguo, if the Heir means the Second Young Master harm, then..."

Song Cen's eyelid twitched.

Why had he not thought of it?

Song Yan had killed the guards of the Yingzhenguo Estate, and had brazenly arranged the corpses as he had. He was no longer the son Song Cen knew. He had become a second Jiang Meisun!

Song Cen drew a sharp breath. "What do you suggest we do now?"

"Perhaps the Lord should think about how to confront the Heir before the Emperor!" A strange glint flashed through Guard Chang's eyes.

He had already incurred a mortal enmity with Song Yan. Once Song Yan became Duke of Yingguo, his own fate was all too easy to imagine.

Song Cen asked him, "Do you have any good ideas?"

This sort of thing was the work of scholars steeped in the classics. How was he supposed to know?

Guard Chang steeled himself and offered a few suggestions, all of which Song Cen shot down.

Faintly, the fourth watch drum sounded.

Song Cen gritted his teeth and ordered a maid, "Go and fetch Mr. Tao!"

Mr. Tao was named Chi, styled Qizhong, and was his most capable adviser.

He had originally meant to have him devise an utterly foolproof plan, but Tao Jun had answered with a mouthful of classical flourishes, dragging in Lord Wen of Jin and Emperor Wu of Han and all the rest, until Song Cen's temper flared... Never had he imagined that in the end he would still need to beg his help to clean up the mess.

These fighting men were obedient enough, but they were like dog meat—never fit to be served at a proper feast!

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Sisters, brothers, tomorrow we can go home!

o(n_n)o~

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