Chapter 409 — Denial
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 2 of 4
His face darkened. He called out to Song Han: "Tian'en, your brother wants me to hand him the two thousand two hundred mu at Daxing for nothing. What do you say to that?"
Song Han looked blank. "Won't the whole Ying Estate belong to Elder Brother in the end? What's wrong with giving him the farm at Daxing?"
Song Cen nearly toppled over backward with rage.
He had seen fools before, but never a creature as foolish as this.
"By the laws of the court," he snapped, "a title is not divided, but family property may be split equally."
Song Han said "Oh," and then, stupidly: "So Father means to split the farm at Daxing equally between Elder Brother and me?"
Song Cen clutched at his chest and said nothing for a long while.
Song Yan watched coldly from the side, sitting there at his ease and drinking his tea.
Song Han sidled up like a puppy: "Elder Brother, is that tea very good? Let me have a taste too?"
"It is Father's tea," Song Yan said indifferently, and told the maid in attendance to brew a cup for Song Han as well. "If you like it, go ask Father for some."
Song Han happily said "Yes."
Song Cen muttered "Idiot" under his breath and rose to go to his study.
Song Yan pressed him for an answer: "The farm. What do you say? Or shall I simply give the order myself?"
Song Cen wondered privately.
His son was formidable enough, but where money was concerned he had never much cared. What had got into him today? Was he scheming something again?
Uneasy, he sat back down in the hall and said: "As for your farm at Daxing, the emperor said plainly at the time that it was your private property; the Ying Estate's farm belongs to the household jointly. Better not to confuse the two."
Song Yan pressed him relentlessly: "I remember Mother saying that when Grandfather died he divided off part of the household property and gave it to Father as his private portion. So the household property is not untouchable."
A foul breath churned in Song Cen's chest: "I'm not dead yet! Wait till I'm dead, and then you can embezzle the household property — there's no hurry!"
"I don't care for that word, Father," Song Yan said flatly. "How does 'embezzle' come into it, when it is my own family's property? So Father does like to pin labels on people. Last time I was 'unfilial'; this time I am 'embezzling.' So that is the sort of man I am in Father's eyes..."
He and Song Cen had been crossing swords, and Song Han was left to stand by, cooling his heels.
A servant came running in: "Lord Zhenguo, Heir Apparent, Second Master — the madam and the Jiang family's Twelfth Aunt have brought the Jiangs' young cousin to kowtow to you."
Song Cen started. "Which of the Jiang cousins has come to the capital?"
Song Yan said no more than: "You will know when you see her."
Song Cen frowned hard.
Song Han's face, though, had gone rather white.
Song Yan only smiled and said nothing, and went to the door to receive them.
Song Cen could hardly shove Song Yan aside and stalk off.
So he had to sit in the armchair and wait.
Soon Dou Yan and Jiang Ling were at the door, escorting Jiang Yan.
Seeing Jiang Yan look so frail she seemed about to collapse, Song Yan put out a hand to steady her and led her into the hall.
Song Cen, who had been about to drink his tea, was struck dumb at the sight; the cup clattered from his hand to the floor.
"Huisun," he said, staring straight at Jiang Yan, beads of sweat the size of peas starting out on his brow, "you. How did you come here? Aren't you dead?" he muttered, then leapt up and backed away, "The living and the dead are parted. You're a ghost, I'm a man — don't you try anything, mind you don't scatter your soul to the winds..."
Behind him stood the incense table of the central hall. There was nowhere left to retreat, and he crashed into it, sending the tea things and ritual vessels clattering across the floor.
Dou Yan and Song Ke exchanged a glance.