Chapter 410 — Three Carvings
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 1 of 4
Song Yan's mouth curved slightly.
He said mildly: "But Li Liang's account was coherent and well-grounded — he did not look like a man telling lies. And when I questioned the old family servants, they all said the same. So I gave the girl the name Jiang Yan and brought her back with me. It would not do to hand her over to the authorities as Father suggested. Once this became a great matter, we could only open up the events of that year. It is said the midwife who delivered my mother was introduced by my eldest uncle's wife — I fear my uncle's household would be dragged in as well, and then the Song family would become the laughingstock of the capital. I think Father would be wise to weigh this matter carefully."
"Do you mean to muddy the blood of the Song clan?" Song Cen glared at Song Yan with wide eyes, looking as though he would gladly devour him.
"Whether the Song blood is muddied, you know best of all in your heart — why put the question to me?" Song Yan said calmly and unhurriedly. "Or shall we take the Li family to court after all? Matters are uncertain; with the authorities poking about, who knows but that some person or affair neglected by the Li family back then might suddenly surface to prove Father's innocence. Would you not say that is the way of it?"
His gaze rested on Song Cen like frost.
Dou Yan's head, however, rang with a single booming note.
Muddy the blood!
Among common folk there was naturally no fear of such talk — so long as the clan accepted it, the matter was settled.
But houses of rank and merit were different; it touched upon the succession of titles.
And the Ying Estate of the Duke of Zhenguo was different still.
The ancestors of the Ying Estate had once served as foster sons to the founding Emperor, and the imperial house had always regarded them as "brothers of our own blood."
In that instant she seemed to half understand, and her eyes could not help turning toward Song Han.
Song Han's face was the color of blood; he was staring at Song Yan, and the corner of his eye collided squarely with Dou Yan, who stood shoulder to shoulder with Song Yan.
He dropped his gaze and avoided Dou Zhiwei's eyes.
Dou Yan fell into thought — only to have her train of reflection cut short by a furious shout from Song Cen.
"Are you threatening me?" he cried, face livid, pointing at Song Yan. "You unnatural son!"
Song Yan did not take Song Cen's words to heart, keeping to his composed and unhurried manner. He said gently: "A son does not speak of his father's faults. How could I threaten Father? Father misunderstands me. I merely feel that since I have already brought the girl back, there is no possible reason to send her away again — especially when the Li family calls her a daughter of the Song. I ask only that Father permit me to acknowledge her. There is no need for Father to be so enraged; it makes you look as though your conscience were uneasy."
Song Cen's face went purple; he glared at Song Yan and had just gotten out the word "You—" when Song Yan continued: "That reminds me — a few days ago an old servant named Song Shize came looking for me from Tianjin, saying he had once served Grandfather. You happened to be away from home, so I met with Song Shize on your behalf. Would you like to see the man as well? According to him, when the Ying Estate was robbed that year, many people fled, and now they wish to return — but the stewards and serving women of the household have all been replaced, and they have no way in. So they have come one after another to these old retainers. Father, if you saw Song Shize, it would be the very occasion to explain to him just what happened. Though the Ying Estate fears no trouble, with so many hereditary servants gone missing, if it were brought before His Majesty it would not look well." With that he took up his teacup, bent his head, and gently blew the floating leaves aside, then sipped.
Song Cen stared at Song Yan in alarm and dread.
Song Shize!