Chapter 303 — Unraveling the Cocoon

Dou Yan simply held Song Yan gently.

In her last life, the death of the Duke of Dingguo had been an unsolved case to her; in this life, she knew no more than she had then. Better to trust that Song Yan could find the answer than to guess wildly and lead him down the wrong path.

All she needed to do was hold him in comfort when he was fragile.

Song Yan quieted.

Dou Yan went on softly stroking his forehead.

She did not know how long it lasted before the hushed footsteps of the serving women sounded outside.

One by one, the great red lanterns beneath the eaves were lit.

Crimson and glowing, they lent a warmth to the depths of autumn that warmed the heart along with them.

Suddenly Song Yan sat up from her embrace.

"Shouyuan, do you still remember the business with the Risheng Silver Shop?"

Beneath the festive lamplight, the gravity of his expression could not be hidden.

Dou Yan was briefly taken aback, then nodded. "It was only because Gu Yu stepped in that we got back those contract papers Father had signed and sealed."

"Shouyuan!" Song Yan leaned close to Dou Zhiwei and whispered in her ear. "Emperor Taizong reigned nineteen years, and Emperor Renzong thirty-two. If the Emperor were in good health, tell me—would the Prince of Liao dare to siphon money in the capital?"

In her last life, the palace coup of the twentieth year of Chengping had come about because word spread that the Emperor lay at death's door—and the facts bore it out: the Emperor was indeed beyond cure, and even without the coup, he had not long to live.

That was the certain answer Dou Yan could give Song Yan.

"He shouldn't be that foolish." The matter was grave; even with no one in the inner chamber, caution could never hurt. Whispering to him, Dou Yan took the chance to tell Song Yan what she knew. "I have a vague feeling that the Emperor's illness is more perilous than any of you know—at most, it is a matter of two or three years!"

Song Yan had always trusted Dou Yan to form her own judgments. He did not doubt Dou Zhiwei's words in the least; indeed, a flicker of excitement showed through. "You think so too?"

What did he mean, "You think so too"?

Dou Yan gazed at Song Yan and could not help blinking.

Could Song Yan truly have deduced what was to come from a few stray words of hers?

She knew Song Yan was a gifted strategist, but this was beyond all reason!

Her expression somewhat blank, Dou Yan said, "What have you found?"

To astonish Dou Yan—to Ning Mo, that felt more real and more delightful than any encouragement or praise.

He kissed Dou Zhiwei affectionately on the cheek and said in a low voice, "When I read the histories, I found that the wiser a ruler is, the more prone he is, once his body fails and his vigor wanes with age, to breed suspicion. These past years the Emperor has been unwell from time to time. It is likely just as you say—the end is near, and so his suspicions grow daily.

"That is also one reason the Prince of Liao stirs restlessly. After all, it is Empress Wan who is mother to the realm."

Song Yan paused, then went on: "What might once have been nothing to the Emperor and to our eldest uncle, the Emperor in his illness will turn over and over in his mind. Look at how the Emperor has chosen his men these past years—all of them the old guard, men like Yao Shizhong and Dai Jian, and your Fifth Uncle, in the prime of their vigor. He employs not one of them, yet hands the post of Chief Councillor to Liang Jifen, who is two years older than the Emperor himself. And he elevates He Wendao. I suspect—could it be that our eldest uncle did something to displease the Emperor, and the Emperor meant only to administer a small punishment, when Ding Wei thrust in a hand and brought our uncle low, so that he met his death on the road? And that petty men worked their mischief besides, blinding the Emperor for a time. Thank Heaven we took your advice and showed ourselves weak. The Emperor was furious, but mindful of our uncle's merits, he ultimately spared the Jiang family's lives. Afterward, when the Emperor came to his senses, he regretted it deeply and resolved to have the Embroidered Uniform Guards who had escorted our uncle quietly put to death—and that is how this absurd business came about: Ding Wei killing men, and Wang Yuan taking revenge..."

Dou Yan listened closely to Song Yan's words and pondered them carefully for a good while. Then she said slowly, "I think your reasoning holds. I remember that when our eldest uncle met his trouble, it was just when Zeng Yifen had died of illness and the Grand Secretariat had no one to manage affairs—perhaps that was when someone seized the opening." She felt a faint headache coming on. "Our eldest uncle offended too many people. I fear the culprit will not be easy to find."

Song Yan's eyes glinted, his face full of the confidence of certain victory. "Our eldest uncle offended many, yes—but few are those who could slip the Emperor a poison drop without stirring a ripple. I will find a way to get to the bottom of this." He gave a cold laugh. "And when I do, I will take him and Ding Wei down together in one sweep!"

Dou Yan believed Song Yan could do it.

Yet her heart was still full of melancholy.

She sighed. "The sea of officialdom is truly a treacherous and shifting thing!"

Song Yan agreed wholeheartedly, yet laughed. "Which is why only the sharpest wits can thrive in it!"

What a fellow—he would not rest until the realm was in upheaval!

Dou Yan did not know whether to laugh or cry, and that little touch of autumn sorrow fled to the nine clouds in an instant.

Song Yan called Yan Che in to ask about Chen Jia.

Yan Che said, "Du Wei has already looked into it thoroughly. What Chen Jia says is true." He was somewhat worried that Song Yan, young as he was, might prove no match for the wily old Wang Yuan and come away with nothing, so he asked tactfully, "Has there been any lead on the matter of Chen Jia?"

Song Yan told Yan Che all about his visit to Wang Yuan and his conjectures regarding the miscarriage of justice against the Duke of Dingguo.

Yan Che's expression changed drastically.

Before he could speak, Song Yan said, "Wang Yuan loves the opera. Have Du Ming make inquiries—find out whether there is any famous actor Wang Yuan particularly favors. Then find a way to buy him out and send him to Wang Yuan. That will give me a pretext to call on Wang Yuan and see what I can learn from him."

He was radiant with spirit—not a trace left of the weakness of moments before.

Dou Chi muttered to himself under his breath and rose to refill the tea for Song Yan and Yan Che.

Yan Che hurriedly rose to thank him, then turned back to speak with Song Yan. "Wang Yuan is a hard man to deal with. I think we would do better to start from Wang Ge's side..."

"No!" said Song Yan. The solemn look on his face lent him a calm and composure that spoke of a plan already settled. "At Wang Yuan's station, money can scarcely move him anymore. The fact that he told me something so important shows that in his heart he still sees value in courting me—and that serves in turn to confirm that the Emperor does bear me some measure of affection." Here he tugged at the corner of his mouth, wearing an expression that was neither quite a smile nor quite not, and said mildly, "Tell me—if the Emperor were to learn at this moment that the true reason for the discord between our fathers is that after the Dingzhen Duke's household was stripped of its title, my father feared being implicated and sought to put me to death... what would the Emperor think?"

The Emperor would likely never look favorably upon the Duke of Yingguo again.

But was that not a little too cruel?

Song Cen and Song Yan were father and son, after all. What if Song Cen's troubles dragged Song Yan down with him?

Yan Che hesitated for a moment.

Dou Yan clapped his hands together and praised it as "a brilliant plan."