Chapter 389 — Old Acquaintances
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 1 of 4
Dou Yan's belly grew heavy and round as a winnowing basket. Song Yan was rather anxious about it, but the midwife the Crown Princess had sent wore a face wreathed in smiles and kept saying there was nothing to worry about: "The madam has broad hips — she is made for easy birthing." Dou Yan remembered that her first delivery had gone smoothly, and she quite agreed with the midwife, so she comforted Song Yan: "Go and see to your business. If anything happens, I will send Wu Yi to fetch you."
There was an endless stream of social obligations at the Ying Estate.
After Princess Ninghuai's birthday came the birthdays of the Third Princess, Empress Wan, and the Empress Dowager; then on the sixteenth of the sixth month came the Longevity Festival, and in the latter half of the year the birthdays of the Prince of Liao and the Heir Apparent — and that was without counting the various princes and princesses, the nobles and great ministers... Dou Yan thought that if such dates were not marked in the almanac, and the reception office forgot to notify the inner quarters in advance, it would count as a fault.
Today Song Yan was conferring with Gu Yu, Yan Che, and a few others about the Empress Dowager's birthday when the midwife arrived. Song Yan left Gu Yu behind and followed her inside; what gift to present to the Empress Dowager had still not been settled.
"It doesn't matter," said Song Yan, gazing with a certain awe at Dou Yan's belly. "With me gone, it is a fine chance to let them each air their views." Then he turned back to the midwife. "But what if the madam cannot deliver?"
The midwife could only stare.
If she could not deliver — then there was nothing for it but to pass through the gate of ghosts?
But how dared the midwife say such a thing?
She choked on her words for a moment, then said, "Physicians from the Imperial Medical Academy will be present at the birth, and I know a little of the golden-needle art myself. There will be no trouble."
Song Yan then asked which physician of the Academy was skilled in women's ailments, which in the ailments of infants, what tonic a newborn ought to take, and so on and on — a whole array of questions.
The midwife, smiling, patiently explained it all to him, while muttering ceaselessly to herself.
Was this not a matter for women to concern themselves with? How was it that in the Heir of the Ying Estate everything was turned upside down?
Outsiders said the Heir of the Duke of Ying killed without blinking. Had the Crown Princess not given her word, she would never have come for anything in the world; even so, her legs had trembled the whole way. Yet the Heir was nothing like the green-faced, fanged brute of rumor — he had a face like polished jade, eyes like drops of lacquer, a noble and handsome bearing, and a calm, dignified air. She was past thirty and had entered many a great house, but never had she seen a man comelier than the Heir of the Duke of Ying. And most of all, the tender care he showed his wife plainly came from the heart.
What good fortune the Heir's wife had!
She could not help heaving a long sigh in her heart.
So rumors really could kill a person!
Dou Yan tugged coyly at Song Yan's sleeve and said softly, "What tonic should a newborn take? When my aunt went to Huguang she told me every last detail, and my sixth aunt has sent Old Woman Wang to wait on me. None of us understands such things — we should follow what our elders say, and not go making things up as we fancy, thwarting the good intentions of our seniors."
The implication was that he should stop meddling.
Song Yan gave a sheepish laugh, charged her to "lie still if you are tired," and went out to the outer court.
Dou Yan watched his retreating back and shook her head with a smile.
Truly, care breeds confusion.
So even Song Yan had come to this.
How amusing.
Yet her heart was sweet, too, as if she held a lump of sugar in her mouth.
She told Ganlu to tip the midwife.