Chapter 179 — Confrontation
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 1 of 4
Song Yan drew a deep breath, and only then managed to suppress the fury surging up within him. With a semblance of calm, he said to Wei Fan, "Put on your clothes first," and turned and left the inner chamber.
Wei Fan's mind went blank.
He scrambled up in a panic to find his clothes, but something tripped him and he went rolling off the bed.
He was a thoroughly sorry sight.
Yet at the memory of Song Yan's cold, stern expression, not a single person could bring himself to laugh.
Zhao Zishu was even more frightened, his face ashen. He seized Wei Fan and pleaded, trembling, "Marquis, we—we did nothing..."
If not for him, how would he have landed in such a predicament?
Wei Fan felt only that the actor before him wore a fearful face, one that made his stomach turn.
He shot Zhao Zishu a vicious glare, and without a thought shoved him away. Then woodenly he put on his clothes and stepped out of the inner chamber.
Song Yan sat upright in the grand armchair of the central hall, leisurely sipping tea.
Gu Yu sat below him. Though he too held a cup of tea, his eyes darted from Song Yan to Wei Fan and back again, his face full of curiosity.
Seeing Wei Fan emerge, Song Yan gestured toward the armchair opposite Gu Yu and said mildly, "Sit."
Wei Fan did not dare look at Song Yan. Head lowered, burning with shame and remorse, he sat down.
Someone served him a cup of tea.
The liquor was emerald green, its fragrance striking the nose—a fine Biluochun.
Wei Fan could not help murmuring, "Many thanks."
The man answered respectfully, "I do not deserve it."
Wei Fan heard Song Yan call the man "Chen He," saying, "Go and bring in the marquis's personal attendant."
Chen He paused a moment, then assented respectfully and withdrew.
Wei Fan, however, was greatly startled.
Did such a matter have to be trumpeted to all and sundry?
His face flushed red and paled by turns. He wanted to say something, yet did not know what to say. And worse, the fear of provoking Song Yan left him sitting on pins and needles, restless and ill at ease.
Wei Fan's attendant was quickly summoned in.
Song Yan instructed Chen He, "Accompany him into the inner chamber and see whether the marquis has left anything behind."
It was for fear that someone might make an issue of Wei Fan's belongings.
This was Song Yan cleaning up after Wei Fan!
Gu Yu raised an eyebrow.
In the past, Brother Tianci had been cold and aloof to everyone. He would only ever tidy up messes for him and Tian'en. He himself had wormed his way in shamelessly, at the near cost of his life; Tian'en was Brother Tianci's own younger brother. So by what right did this fellow surnamed Wei deserve such kindness from Brother Tianci?
A flicker of cold light crossed his gaze as he looked at Wei Fan. The relish of a good show was gone from his face, which gradually turned somewhat dark and unreadable.
Wei Fan did not notice Gu Yu's peculiar look.
He raised his head to look at Song Yan, startled and overjoyed, and called out, "Young Master." Involuntarily he had placed himself in a subordinate position and lapsed into humble address.
.
Did he have to be so utterly spineless?
He was nothing but an actor—so what if he had slept with him?
Just clean it up and be done with it!
Carrying on so terrified and trembling...
Dou Yi, Dou Yi... how had he ended up with such a man as this?
His heart ached beyond bearing.
Chen He and Wei Fan's attendant dragged Zhao Zishu out from the inner chamber.
"Young Master," Chen He reported in a low voice, "nothing was left behind."
The attendant, seeing how things stood, had more or less guessed the truth. Pale as death with fright, he kept nodding in agreement with Chen He.
Zhao Zishu knelt trembling before Song Yan, knocking his head against the floor with a thud, thud, thud, again and again.
He did not dare utter a single word, still less shift the blame onto Ji Yong.