Chapter 293 — Ripples
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 1 of 4
After their fierce lovemaking, Dou Yan was drawn into Song Yan's embrace.
Song Yan's hand drifted idly over the delicate curves of Dou Yan's body, utterly without any thought of sleep.
What exactly was the Prince of Liao after?
Liaodong was rich in resources—white mountains and black waters, far from the capital, with many soldiers and capable generals, a realm unto itself. When the enfeoffment had first been decided, the Emperor had weighed the matter again and again before making his decision.
If the man were merely short of money, he could simply have seized a few of the coal mines beyond the pass for himself; if he feared the strife of the court would sour the bond between father and son, he could easily have shown his filial devotion through Empress Yi's customary channels...
Could it be, as Dou Yan had guessed, that the Emperor was already beyond all cure, and that the Prince of Liao feared the Crown Prince would move against him once he ascended—and so was making preparations in advance?
Or did he have some other design?
At the thought of that "other design," Song Yan sat bolt upright in alarm.
The quilt slid away, and cold air rushed in, drawing a sleepy murmur from Dou Yan.
Song Yan hurried to cover her again and patted her gently. Only when she turned over and sank back into sleep did he let out a long breath.
If only Dou Yan would wake—the two of them could talk.
He bent down and kissed the corner of Dou Yan's temple, only to be answered by a disgruntled mumble.
Song Yan laughed despite himself, feeling much better, and, throwing a robe over his shoulders, leaned against the headboard and fell to brooding.
Little by little, the light in the inner chamber brightened.
From outside came the sounds of the maids rising and washing.
Dou Yan, long accustomed to waking at the sixth hour, opened her eyes and saw Song Yan sitting quietly beside her.
His expression was grave, and in the dim light of the curtained bed his bright eyes sparkled like stars, lending his whole face a vividness that was yet tinged with a serene beauty.
Dou Yan admired him in silence for a good while before turning over.
Hearing the movement, Song Yan looked down and met Dou Yan's shining eyes.
He could not help smiling. "You're awake? Shall I get you a cup of warm water?"
"Yes!" Dou Yan relished being waited on.
Still naked, Song Yan got out of bed and poured her a cup of tea.
Dou Yan's gaze flicked over his waist and lower body, and then she pressed her lips together and smiled.
"What are you laughing at?" Song Yan handed her the water and sat on the edge of the bed watching her drink it all.
"Nothing." Dou Yan lay back down, smiling up at him, and asked about the day before. "...How did your talk with the Earl of Donglin go?"
"Quite well," Song Yan said. "He took me for a spoiled young lord who knows nothing of the world, and urged me not to act on impulse—said he and Magistrate Huang would discuss it first before deciding whether the Yingzhenguo Manor should put up a heavy bounty. But to keep them from shifting the blame back and forth, I've decided to go to the palace today and ask the Emperor for a few garrison posts as rewards."
Before he had gone to see the Earl of Donglin, he had spoken with Dou Yan about the bounty.
"The Earl of Donglin's misgivings are not without reason," she said. "Some men will kill for no more than a full meal—how much more so when there's a bounty to be had and a recommendation into the garrisons to eat the Emperor's grain besides. You truly cannot afford to be careless."
Song Yan nodded. "Rest easy. I know what I'm doing."
Dou Yan had always trusted Song Yan's abilities, so she asked no more and began urging him, "Put on some clothes, quick. You'll catch cold. I want to call the maids in to help me wash and dress."