Chapter 290 — Putting on Airs
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 1 of 4
Ji Yong stared at the bustling crowd outside the Shuntian Prefecture yamen, and the fire in his chest flared up again.
Was it really going to end like this?
What was Song Yan thinking?
Just letting these people be played for fools?
After some thought, he headed for the Ying Zhenguo Estate.
When Song Yan heard Ji Yong had come, he dismissed him with a single line: "Tell him I'm not home."
Ji Yong thought, fine—if you're not home, all the better. He then asked to see Dou Yan, saying to the servant: "Tell her I've come about the fire at the Ying Zhenguo Estate."
Proud men disdain to lie.
Dou Yan received Ji Yong in the flower hall.
Ji Yong told Dou Yan about his trip to the Shuntian Prefecture, adding: "If those thieves learn that the yamen ultimately intends to find someone to take the fall, they'll only grow more brazen—they might even set their sights on the Ying Zhenguo Estate again. After all, word has spread that you brought a hundred thousand taels in silver notes as dowry, and the rumors grow more outlandish by the day. Right now you must not only hunt down those thieves but also find a way to divert attention—you can't let people's eyes stay fixed on your dowry. There will always be those who risk life and limb. A man can be a thief for a thousand days, but no one can guard against thieves for a thousand days."
Dou Yan was grateful for Ji Yong's concern and, with some reservations, shared Song Yan's plan: "The heir said the same thing you did. So he means to use private connections to catch the thieves—even if he can't catch them all, he'll grab the greater half, and let those in the jianghu know that the Ying Zhenguo Estate is not to be trifled with."
Hearing this, Ji Yong felt somewhat reassured; Song Yan, at least, was not entirely muddle-headed.
He urged Dou Yan: "If you get any word, send me a message. At the Shuntian Prefecture, with my uncle's calling card, I can at least have some say."
The prefect of Shuntian was a civil official; the Ji family had produced officials for generations, and Ji Yong was himself a palace graduate of the highest examinations—by any measure of reason or sentiment, Prefect Huang Qi would grant Ji Yong some courtesy. Ji Yong meant every word sincerely.
Dou Yan thought the Shuntian Prefecture in this matter likely wanted only to smooth things over, and she had already resolved not to let Ji Yong get involved. Yet seeing such earnestness, she could not bear to throw cold water on him, and so thanked him again and again.
Ji Yong was a little displeased. "You and I are cousins—we practically grew up together. If you have something to say, say it plainly. This endless thanking is far too formal. Before you married, you were forthright and brisk. How is it that after marriage you've turned into a common, fussy matron? Could it be Song Yan keeps you on a tight leash? Then you'd have been better off staying in Zhending. In Zhending, who would dare boss you around?"
Song Yan had not expected that, failing to see him, Ji Yong would go straight to Dou Yan; and since he had always given Dou Yan equal rights and dignity with himself, the household servants would naturally not stop her. But at the thought of the Ji family's former designs on Dou Yan, and of Ji Yong's sheer audacity, Song Yan could not sit still.
After much deliberation, he decided to seize the chance to "return."
Only, he had never in the least anticipated—
Song Yan's face was dark and grim; only after a long while did he recover. He circled once more outside the flower hall, judged that his expression had returned to normal, and only then entered with a smile.
"Magistrate Ji. To trouble you to make the trip yourself over the fire at the Ying Zhenguo Estate—many thanks, many thanks!" He bowed to Ji Yong with cupped hands and sat down beside Dou Zhiwei.