Chapter 302 — The Hint
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 3 of 4
But he quickly recovered himself.
If he did not even have that much ability, Song Yan would not be the heir of the Duke of Yingguo who could throw the whole capital into turmoil!
Ever since Song Yan had regained the Emperor's favor, he had known that sooner or later Song Yan would learn of this.
He simply had not expected Song Yan to learn of it so soon.
Never underestimate a young man!
Watching Song Yan before him—steady of countenance, calm, keen-witted—Wang Yuan weighed his words for a moment, then smiled and said, "The Young Master misunderstands! This old servant is merely one who waits upon others; naturally I do whatever my master bids me do. How would I dare accept such a grand salute from the Young Master!" With that, he cupped his hands and returned the courtesy.
Song Yan listened with his heart shaken to its core, staring at Wang Yuan in alarm.
Not only did the man understand what was left unsaid; he also knew what ought to be spoken and what ought not.
If in the past Wang Yuan had been kindly disposed toward Song Yan merely because the Emperor kept him in mind, now he could not but look Song Yan in the eye and take his measure in earnest.
"Do try my Biluochun, Young Master," he said, pouring Song Yan a fresh cup with his own hand, and smiling, "The Emperor says the Dahongpao gets worse and worse to drink these days, so this old servant has had to take up Biluochun as well."
"Many thanks, Eunuch!" Song Yan lifted the cup and drank, only to find his mouth flooded with bitterness.
Taking his leave of Wang Yuan, he made his way back to Yizhi Hall in a daze.
No sooner had he entered than he went straight to Dou Yan.
Dou Yan was in the midst of tallying the silks and satins of her dowry with Suxin and the others.
This was her first year married into the Yingzhenguo Estate, and she meant to reward her own household attendants handsomely, giving them some fine cloth to make clothes for the New Year.
Seeing Song Yan come in with his mind elsewhere, she at once threw a glance at Suxin and went forward herself to help Song Yan sit on the large heated kang by the window in the inner room.
Song Chu flung his arms around Dou Yan and buried his face in Dou Zhiwei's bosom.
Pressed against Dou Yan's soft fullness, his feelings eased along with it.
"Shouyuan," he said thickly, "Wang Yuan is acting on the Emperor's orders... but why?" He lifted his head; in his dark eyes flickered a gleam of water, as though wetted by rain, crystalline and bright. "My eldest uncle guarded Fujian for twenty years—if not for merit, then at least for hardship... yet he is killed at will. Their home searched at will, sent into exile at will... By what right? By what right?" he questioned low, but his voice grew ever louder.
Dou Yan went pale with fright. She clapped a hand over his mouth and raised her head to look around warily; finding no one in the inner room but herself and Song Yan, her wildly pounding heart gradually steadied.