Chapter 465 — A Match
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 1 of 4
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After all, Wang Shuying was still alive, whereas Zhao Guqiu had been dead for over a decade.
He slapped his thigh in sudden excitement. "That's a fine idea! We'll do it your way!" With that, he finished his evening meal and headed for Elm Tree Lane.
When Fifth Madam heard of it, she said, "Sixth Sister-in-law and I had both thought of it, only neither of us dared bring it up. Who'd have guessed Seventh Uncle would come round all at once?"
Dou Bingheng laughed too. "He's been conducting himself with a good deal more method these days than before."
Fifth Madam nodded, and gazing at the silver threads newly sprouting at her husband's temples, said with a pang, "If they can be settled smoothly, you'll have that much less to worry over."
Dou Bingheng smiled gently at his wife and pressed an ink stick into her hand. "Here, grind the ink for me. I'll write to Second Brother and have him add a line to the family register."
Fifth Madam answered with a smile and a "yes," rolled up her sleeves, and quietly set to grinding ink for her husband.
Back home, Dou Yan properly "rewarded" Song Yan. In the midst of his delight, Song Yan grew a little uneasy. "Has something happened?"
Dou Yan did not know whether to laugh or cry, and shot him a look. "What could possibly have happened?"
Song Yan chuckled and, unwilling to forgo his "benefits," pulled half-bare Dou Yan into his arms and murmured, "I want to go in from behind again."
As he spoke, that thing was already pressing hard and stiff against the inside of Dou Zhiwei's thigh.
Dou Yan had not expected him to be in the mood again so soon, and was badly startled, glancing at him sidelong. "Isn't it chaotic enough for you already?"
She did not know that her face was flushed like the dawn, and that the glance she cast him was like a crabapple blossom beaded with dew, indescribably charming and alluring, which only made Song's inner fire burn hotter.
"Let them come in and tidy up afterwards," Song Yan said, his hand already closing over the fullness of her breast, pressing Dou Yan down onto the bed.
Aroused by him once more, Dou Yan simply closed her eyes and let him have his way.
The next morning, the wet nurse brought Yuanheng over for his feeding.
Dou Yan was so embarrassed she scarcely dared look at Yuan's face, and forced herself to be calm as she instructed the wet nurse, "You feed him this morning!"
The wet nurse withdrew, puzzled.
Ganlu, who was in attendance, thought of the bedding that had been changed, stained all over with every sort of mark, and vaguely guessed at something; her face flushed as well.
Only Song Yan, the culprit, looked utterly composed, unhurriedly sipping his congee.
But the moment he stepped out the door, the corners of his mouth curved high.
Yuanheng grudgingly took a few mouthfuls from the wet nurse, and in less than an hour was whimpering and burrowing toward Dou Yan's breast.
The interval had been too short, and Dou Zhiwei's body had not yet recovered, so Yuanheng got only half a meal; in less than half an hour he was fussing again, throwing the whole schedule into disarray.
Dou Yan blushed inwardly, and doting on her son as she did, let him feed whenever he wanted, with the result that Yuanheng clung to her bosom without a moment apart. So when Ruozhu came to report that Jiang Yan had seemed somewhat absent-minded these days, she had no choice but to take Yuanheng in her arms and go to Bishui Pavilion.
On closer look, Jiang Yan had grown somewhat thinner than before.
Dou Yan let her play with Yuanheng and asked, "Is something weighing on your mind?"
Jiang Yan was silent a moment, then said in a low voice, "I want to go to Puji Temple and burn a stick of incense..."