Chapter 323 — Interlude
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 2 of 4
Old Madam Duan then admonished him: "A drop of kindness... Though you were kind to the Lady, she paid you a reward at the time, and over the years she has cared for you all the more. If there is any debt of kindness between you, it has long since canceled out. You must never pride yourself on your merit or use your kindness to make demands..."
After a long lecture of admonishment, Duan Bing did not know whether to laugh or cry. He said "yes" again and again, and it took him quite a while to persuade his mother to go wash and rest.
After seeing Old Madam Duan off, Dou Yan changed her clothes and met with Zhao Liangbi.
Zhao Liangbi first presented the clothes, shoes, and socks that Aunt Cui and Hong Gu had made for her, spoke of how Aunt Cui had been faring lately, and only then told Dou Yan one by one the trivial matters at home since she had left.
Dou Yan listened while observing Suxin.
She noticed that in the half hour she had been speaking with Zhao Liangbi, Suxin had refilled the tea for her and Zhao Liangbi six times.
Dou Yan's lips curved slightly. She knew that Zhao Liangbi wanted to stay the night at the writing-brush shop and have a good reunion with Cui Min and Tian Fugui. Dou Yan did not keep him, told Sujuan to stay and keep watch through the night, and went to arrange Song Yan's evening meal.
Song Yan saw that there was a dish of crispy fried duck on the table and knew that Dou Yan had been cooking again. He smiled and said, "You could just have the kitchen women make it. The weather is so cold; be careful you do not freeze your hands."
Dou Yan said, "Could they make it as well as I do?"
"That is true." Song Yan felt a little regret.
He liked to watch Dou Yan fussing around him, and so he found ways to make her wait on him. One day Dou Yan made this crispy fried duck, and he found it delicious; the next day he had the kitchen women make it, but no matter how he ate it, it was not as good as Dou Yan's, and so he let the matter drop. Who would have thought Dou Yan had taken it to heart, and every few days had the kitchen make it; again she found that the kitchen's was not as good as hers, and taught the cook several times, but for some reason the cook's version always fell a little short. Dou Yan could not be bothered to find the reason, and simply did it herself, making it for him whenever she was in good spirits.
Who would have thought Dou Yan would be so attentive? He had only ordered the dish once, and she had remembered it.
Song Yan muttered inwardly, yet his heart was like a piece of candy that would not dissolve no matter what.
He sat down close to Dou Yan and said with a smile, "In the dead of winter, why always crispy fried duck? Make some rice-wine glutinous rice balls instead!"
Dou Yan raised an eyebrow and glanced at him sidelong: "Are you sure?"
Song Yan suddenly dared not be sure.
Dou Yan burst out laughing. "You will not even eat ludagun, and you want to eat glutinous rice balls?"
Song Yan was speechless.
He simply did not want Dou Yan to tire herself, and wanted to switch to the simplest thing to make, to divert Dou Yan's attention.
Dou Yan giggled, laughing like a child.
This fellow—even when being considerate, he had to do it so obliquely.
But then, she had been like that before too, so much so that her good intentions were not something everyone could appreciate.
Having lived two lives, she had gained a little more openness and lost a little more restraint; only now was she beginning to learn to refuse others.
Dou Yan ladled a bowl of soup for Song Yan herself, the joyful smile reaching from the bottom of her eyes to the bottom of her heart, full of a deep warmth: "Drink your soup quickly; be careful it does not go cold and lose its flavor."
Song Yan bent his head and drank the soup.