Chapter 362 — Attachments

Song Yan wished to make herself feel more that she belonged to Yizhi Hall, and to choose one of her favored senior maids to marry Chen He. Chen He was loyal and righteous, and she liked him well. But the one to be wed was Sulan, and it would have to be a match that satisfied Sulan. She had feared that Sulan, out of gratitude for her kindness, might agree to the match in a muddle-headed way, and so had hesitated all this while. She had never expected that Sulan, upon learning of it, would run off to the outer courtyard, demand to see Chen He by name, and rattle off a great torrent at him—that if he were loyal to the heir apparent and the madam, then she would marry him; otherwise, even if they became man and wife, it would never last.

Dou Yan was so frantic her vision blurred, and she could only blame herself for having spoiled Sulan so indulgently all these years. When she met Song Yan, she had still been in low spirits, discussing with him the idea of finding someone else—yet to her surprise, these words won the approval of Chen He and his mother. Having also learned why the Bie sisters had thrown themselves upon Dou Zhiwei's mercy, and deeming both Suxin and Sulan people of loyal and upright spirit, Chen He agreed to the match on the spot.

Now it seemed Chen He treated Sulan rather well, knowing how to teach her the ways of conducting herself and dealing with others.

Only thus could Sulan grow.

This was precisely the missing piece in both Dou Yan's and Suxin's treatment of Sulan.

The former had treated Sulan like a daughter, while the latter, because of the family's upheaval, had always harbored a sense of guilt toward her.

If marrying Chen He could make up for what Sulan lacked, then this was a match of the very finest sort!

Dou Yan pressed her palms together and silently prayed to the Bodhisattva to bless both Bie sisters with harmonious marriages and a lifetime together with their husbands.

Having finished her prayers, she thought of Ganlu and Sujuan.

Her headache returned.

This life and the last had already diverged greatly. What was to be done about those two?

Dou Yan wrote down the names of everyone of marriageable age in Yizhi Hall and began to ponder.

Song Yan entered and saw his wife at once, chin propped on her hand beneath the lamp, lost in thought. Her snow-white face was as warm and smooth as jade, her dark eyes bright and lustrous, and the long brows sweeping toward her temples lent her a touch of martial spirit—and with it a serene, dignified beauty born of quiet years.

He signaled the maids in the room to keep silent, and stood there enjoying the sight for a good while before quietly walking over.

The notepaper spread across the kang table was covered with names of every kind.

Song Yan could not help laughing. "Are you practicing calligraphy?"

It startled Dou Yan badly; she clutched her chest and let out a long breath, then could not resist scolding coquettishly, "Couldn't you make a sound when you come in?"

Song Yan had not expected it either, and hastily embraced her in apology. "It's all my fault. I won't do it again."

Dou Yan frowned slightly. "Did you drink a lot today?"

Song Yan sniffed at himself. "Does the smell of wine still hang so heavy? I washed up before coming in. Let me go rinse my mouth again."

Dou Yan could hold a cup or two herself, and besides the smell of wine, Song Yan carried a faint fragrance of grass and wood—nothing that made one recoil.

She wrapped her arms around Song Yan's waist and smiled. "No need. It's just stronger than usual. How was the spring banquet today? I heard the dishes at noon were rather ordinary—thank goodness the wine was good, and they hired a troupe for a hall performance, so at least no gossip came of it!"

Song Yan nibbled at her ear and said ambiguously, "Didn't you know long ago—those people's eyes were fixed on the famous actors. How would they know what they actually ate?"

Dou Yan chuckled.

This was her taking precautions, after all!

In short, seeing Song Yan stumble delighted her.

Song Yan thanked her sincerely. "Thank you for your trouble! Thinking up such a clever plan."

Dou Yan said, "Then what was it today, when you praised me so lavishly in front of Zeng Wu?"

Song Yan said nothing, his eyes glittering like the morning star with brilliant light, gazing at her quietly.

Dou Zhiwei's heart pounded wildly; she felt as though she had fallen into a sea of starlight, drifting and sinking with it.

Song Yan laughed softly and kissed her lips affectionately. "Shouyuan, you little fool!"

Dou Yan came back to herself, her face burning, and glared at him fiercely.

Yet she did not know that her eyes held tenderness, and that the sidelong glance she cast him was, more than anything, bewitching.

The lamp in the room went out all at once.

In the darkness came a rustling sound, and still Dou Yan's low cry of surprise...

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Suddenly I realize I have no holiday at all... because those things are still there, and if they aren't finished, I still can't rest...~~~~(_

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