Chapter 305 — Cannot

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"A father cannot control his son." The Marquis of Changxing had said something of the sort when he first broached the match — half in jest, half as a probe. He had not wished to ally himself with a mere staff captain, but to refuse again would make it seem as though he feared his own son.

Song Yi's face was pale, tinged with a sickly green, and he ground out through clenched teeth, "As for the Marquis of Changxing — you had best prepare a handsome gift and go thank him properly."

The implication was plain: the Marquis of Changxing, long famed for his recklessness, was no Marquis of Anlu. If Song Yan wished to grind him down, he had best first consider whether he had the power to do it.

Song Yan gave a cold laugh and made a casual bow toward Song Yi. "If Father summoned me only to say these things, then my wife and I will take our leave. You have raced back all this way in grief and anger — you would do well to rest." With that he shot a glance at Tao Jun. "Just as well. Mr. Tao can keep Father company and report to him all that has been discovered in the household these past days, and let Father make the decisions." Then he signaled to Dou Yan to toss the household tally to Song Cen.

He would like to see who dared take charge of the Ying Duke's household accounts without his consent.

This had been agreed between the two of them beforehand.

Dou Yan understood, and set the rosewood box holding the Ying Duke's tallies on the side table beside the armchair.

Without waiting to see whether Song Cen agreed or not, Song Yan took Dou Yan by the arm and left the main hall.

"You unfilial wretch!" Song Cen raged, bellowing for Song Yan to be dragged back.

Everyone in the household knew that Song Yan had trained in martial arts with the Jiang family since childhood. How deep his skill ran, no one could say, but whether at home or abroad, he had never once come off the worse.

If Song Cen provoked Song Yan and Song Yan killed him, could Song Cen truly demand his son's life in exchange?

The dead guards were warning enough!

Yet no one dared disobey either. They glanced at one another and shuffled slowly toward the door, their reluctance plain for all to see.

This only inflamed Song Cen further. He was about to berate the servants attending him when Tao Jun, sighing inwardly, steeled himself and stepped forward. "My Lord Duke. The important matters first! You have been away from home these days, and much has happened in the capital..."

Song Cen promptly took the excuse to climb down, and went with Tao Jun to the study.

But he had scarcely steadied himself before his face darkened and he said, "This cannot go on! We must find a way to deal with Song Yan!"

Tao Jun was greatly alarmed and reminded him in a low voice, "The heir is now a close attendant of the Emperor. I fear it would be... inadvisable."

"The more inadvisable, the more it must be done." A sinister light flickered in Song Cen's eyes. He murmured, "Only, where to strike? We must make him lose the Emperor's favor first... Without the Emperor's protection, let us see what he has left to be so arrogant about."

Song Cen proposed several schemes: "Promote him in name and demote him in fact — beg the Emperor to grant him a post and have him transferred out of the capital... Or make him lose his composure before the throne, cause a scandal and sour the Emperor on him..."

These were all stopgap measures. Even if Song Yan were restrained for a time, there was no guaranteeing that once he recovered he would not exact a crueler revenge.

Tao Jun could only smile bitterly and remind him in a whisper, "If word gets out that a father mistreats his son, that would not look well either!"

Song Cen's brows locked tight.

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Song Yan came out of the upper courtyard with his lips pressed tight, a chill in his brow. The serving women along the way fell into a fluster and hurried to the side. Only when he entered the Yizhi Hall did he speak, his voice gloomy: "I truly do not know how he ever became the Seal-Holding Commander of the Forward Military Commission!"

His words reminded Dou Yan.

In the last life, the Ying Duke's household had declined steadily after Lady Jiang's death, and by the time the Prince of Liao ascended the throne it had been reduced to idle retirement. That may well have been one reason the Prince of Liao could strip the Ying Duke of his title without the slightest scruple — making the household an example to overawe the noble houses.

It showed that Song Cen was a man of limited ability.

She asked Song Yan, "What do you plan to do about the Marquis of Changxing?"

Song Yan said scornfully, "No doubt he has heard about our family's affairs and is playing matchmaker for Father again. First, to salvage some face; second, to test just how capable I am. Whatever happens, I cannot let him succeed — I shall have to teach him a lesson."

Dou Yan was a little worried.

Song Yan comforted her. "We are merely testing each other. Neither of us will do any real damage over such a small matter."

Dou Yan could only urge him to be careful.

But the tender mood of moments before was gone.

Song Yan summoned Yan Che to discuss matters.

Dou Yan quietly let out a breath of relief.

Song Yan was still too young; it would not do to be too indulgent.

By evening, her monthly courses had come.

Song Yan made a show of hiding his disappointment.

Dou Yan's feelings were complicated.

She had long since made up her mind that in this life she would raise her own children herself.

But there was so much they had to do, and the later a child came, the better prepared they would be — so she had taken certain measures. Yet now, seeing Song Yan like this, she felt uneasy at heart.

Perhaps she should just let nature take its course?

Song Yan quickly reined in his feelings and kept comforting her. "Perhaps next time it will take!"

Dou Zhiwei's smile, try as she might, still carried a hint of strain.

Song Yan secretly reproached himself.

Was an heir more important, or was Dou Yan?

Was it not because the child was Dou Yan's that he awaited it with such eager anticipation?

If it only served to please Dou Chi, then what meaning did any of it hold?

He sought out an elderly matron to ask after such matters, personally stirred brown sugar water for Dou Yan to drink, and urged her to rest well at home. He told her he had business to attend to these next few days, and that if she grew bored, she might invite Lady Wang and the others over for some idle conversation.

Dou Yan held back with all her strength so as not to shed tears. She reproached herself for several days before she finally recovered her spirits, only to be summoned by Song Cen and scolded roundly.

Only then did she learn that Song Cen's marriage alliance with the Wang family had fallen through once again. Not only that, but Shi Youlan, the younger brother of the Marquis of Changxing who managed the marquis estate's domestic affairs, had personally called upon Song Yan, spoken warm and affectionate words, and presented him with two ancient paintings from a former dynasty, a pair of jade-inlaid chicken-wing wood screens, a pair of Ru kiln plum vases, and more than twenty bolts of this year's newly tributeed brocade from the Jiangnan weaving workshops.

Weighing the gifts from the Marquis of Changxing estate, Dou Yan decided to forgive Song Cen for his roaring.

She stood there quietly, listening to Song Cen vent his temper, while in her heart she was thinking about her upcoming return to her natal home for the month-long visit, and what gifts she ought to prepare for her aunt who had not yet left, for her cousin Zhangru, and for her Sixth Aunt as well.

Song Cen had scolded her halfway through before he finally noticed that his daughter-in-law stood there like a clay statue, utterly without reaction, and he could not tell whether she had taken in a single word.

His fury blazed up in an instant.