Chapter 296 — A Proposal
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 2 of 4
If they judged wrongly now, they would still have a chance to correct it.
But when the Prince of Liao's intent was finally laid bare and court and country fell into chaos, right and wrong would long since be beyond telling; even saying nothing at all might draw a charge of trumped-up guilt—how much less could one hope to clear oneself?
"The heir enjoys the Emperor's favor and has not yet come of age. Since the Duchess passed away, the Duke has left all household matters to his personal stewards and advisors, and it is only natural that the heir should sometimes take a misstep—the very occasion to receive the Emperor's guidance." Dou Yan hinted, "Everything depends on what the world says, how the world sees it, and what the world believes!"
Song Yan smiled faintly.
Yan Che, though, grew excited and said to Song Yan, "My lord, the lady has hit on a fine plan—let us carry word of the discord between the Duke and yourself to the Emperor's ear at once. The Emperor has always loved fathers kind and sons dutiful, and you are one of the noble scions he holds dearest. If someone brings a suit before the throne, you need only turn it to account, contrive to stir the Emperor's pity, and let the Emperor 'discipline' you. For us that kills two birds with one stone: it quashes their attacks on you and draws you closer to the Emperor—I... we might even, through the Emperor, strip the Duke of his power..."
Zi Aifeng could not help clapping his hands. "I say we act on the lady's plan!"
Zhu Yicheng murmured, "That would work too?"
Song Yan laughed aloud. "It seems the lady has set me a hard problem!" He gazed at Dou Zhiwei, and in his eyes there was unmistakable admiration and delight. "Then let it be so! The business with the Emperor I will see to myself. As for Chen Jia—ten to one he will come to us again—I leave him to Mr. Yan!"
All rose together and answered in respectful chorus.
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In a lane of the Shuntian Prefecture not far from the Yingzhenguo Manor stood an inn called Gaosheng.
Hua Tang, commander of the Weizhou Guard, his face dark as deep water, paced the upper room of the inn with his hands clasped behind his back, frantic with impatience.
His personal attendant stood with hands hanging respectfully in a corner of the room, hardly daring to breathe.
Presently came a few cautious knocks at the door.
The attendant breathed a sigh of relief, hurried forward, and opened it.
A scholar in blue robes, some thirty years old, stepped in.
At the sight of him Hua Tang went to meet him, unable to contain himself: "Well? What does the Wang family say?"
The blue-robed scholar lowered his voice at once. "I did not see the Marquis of Yan'an, but the Marquis's heir had his personal attendant bring you a message: he wishes to call on you at the inn a little later." As he spoke he drew a card from his sleeve. "This is the heir's card." Then he paused, and his voice dropped lower still. "As for the gifts we sent—the Wang family would not take them."
Hua Tang's brows knit tight.
His eldest son's lawsuit had come out of nowhere. For this affair he had already enlisted no fewer than seven or eight men, the Marquis of Changxing and the Marquis of Anlu among them, and spent over ten thousand taels of silver, yet the other side met his every move with a counter and showed not the least fear. Only then had he felt that this lawsuit was no simple matter, and dimly he had heard that the old woman had been put up to it by someone. But he had no footing to speak of in the capital, and the Marquis of Anlu was himself caught up in the Yingzhenguo Manor fire through a trusted servant—harried on every side. He had written to the Duke of Yingguo, but no reply had come. How could he trouble the Marquis of Anlu now with his own lawsuit?