Chapter 242 — Seeing Through
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 2 of 4
Zhao Zhangru let Sujuan help her redo her hair and wash her face while she listened to her mother instruct Dou Yan on all she should mind after entering her husband's house—the last time Dou Yan had been about to marry into the Wei family, her aunt had told her about the wedding night but hadn't had time to teach her these tricks of social dealings; she had been regretting the oversight, and it had never occurred to her that Dou Yan would marry a second time, which made up for that regret.
The Yingzhen Duke's estate was a place of treacherous currents; Song Cen was not a father-in-law in any ordinary sense, nor was Song Yan a husband in any ordinary sense. Dou Yan guessed that none of what her aunt was saying would be of any use to her—yet she listened with a smile, nodding from time to time, looking thoroughly docile and obedient.
Her aunt was greatly satisfied and talked for a full hour, draining four or five cups of tea before finally stopping, still reluctant to leave off.
Suxin had already come in and out of the room three or four times.
Dou Yan rose without a word to go brew more tea for her aunt.
Suxin hurried after her.
"What's happened?" Dou Yan asked softly.
Suxin said urgently, "The master and the mistress are quarreling!"
Dou Yan was stunned.
The previous afternoon, Wang Shuying had suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood and fainted, for some reason no one knew. Mama Hu hurried to report it to Dou Huaiying, but unfortunately Dou Bingheng had shut the doors to lecture him. Gao Sheng naturally could not let anyone burst in, and fearing to disturb the happy occasion of Dou Zhiwei's wedding, he took it upon himself to quietly summon a physician and bring him in through the back gate.
The physician said it was anger attacking the heart, wrote out several prescriptions, then shook his head and said that diseases of the heart must be cured by the heart—if Wang Shuying did not ease her mind, not only would she likely never recover, but her illness would easily become chronic and leave her lingering on a sickbed.
At this Gao Sheng grew frantic.
How could he make decisions in a matter this grave?
He went to seek Dou Huaiying's instructions, but Dou Huaiying was in high spirits, playing chess with Dou Yan.
Fearing to spoil Dou Huaiying's mood, Gao Sheng held his tongue. Only after the two had finished their game, taken a late-night meal together, and strolled about the back garden for a good while to aid digestion—only after Dou Yan had returned to her room—did Gao Sheng report the matter to Dou Huaiying.
Dou Huaiying hurried off to visit Wang Shuying.
No one knew which maid or old serving-woman had provoked Wang Shuying—or perhaps she had fallen ill and Dou Huaiying had been nowhere to be seen. In any case Wang Shuying was venting her spleen by berating the servants around her, and even Mama Hu had not escaped.
Dou Huaiying was the most sentimental of men. When the maids and pages who had served him long years were married off or sent out to take up posts, he always gave them generous rewards, and his temper was so mild that the serving women held him dearest in their hearts. Anything that concerned Dou Huaiying, they vied with one another to do well for him, and their affection for him was genuine. And because these people had all been carefully chosen by Gao Sheng, in Dou Huaiying's mind the maids and old women of the household were all steady, dependable, and wholly devoted.
Hearing Wang Shuying scold without rhyme or reason, he was already somewhat displeased; but at the thought that tomorrow was Dou Yan's wedding day, he forced down his irritation and went in to ask after her illness.
After Dou Huaiying's few words of persuasion, Wang Shuying gradually grew calm, and only then did Dou Huaiying return to his room to rest.
That morning, when Dou Yan heard of the matter, she dimly thought of those two boxes of silver drafts.