Chapter 133 — Gambling

Song Yan listened to Wei Fan's reply and nodded to himself.

As he walked out with Wei Fan and the others, he made conversation: "What do you do for amusement in your spare time?"

Wei Fan answered respectfully, "I read and practice calligraphy at home. I don't really have any amusements." Then he asked politely, "If I may ask, what does the Heir of the Duke of Yingguo do for amusement?"

Zhang Yuanming was sweating profusely.

Who talked like that?

Song Yan was the Heir of the Duke of Yingguo!

Before Song Yan could answer, he hurriedly put in, "My brother-in-law here is fond of riding and archery! He often exercises his horse along the moat outside Xuanwu Gate!"

Living in the capital was no easy matter. Not every household's courtyard was large enough to gallop a horse.

"Oh!" Song Chu perked up at this. After a moment's thought, he said to Gu Yu, "How about we go riding along the moat with the Marquis of Jining tomorrow?"

Gu Yu could hardly fail to see that Song Yan was deliberately trying to get close to Wei Fan; there was no question of his not playing along.

"Certainly!" He laughed aloud and said to Wei Fan, "Then it's settled. Tomorrow at the first watch of the morning—be there or be square!"

Wei Fan and Wang Qinghai were taken aback. Their eyes met, and each saw a measure of unease in the other's gaze.

Zhang Yuanming assumed Wei Fan had simply caught Song Yan's fancy. Overjoyed at the words, he hastened to answer for him: "We'll be there without fail!"

Song Yan gave a slight nod, his manner both aloof and unhurried, so that those around him felt the radiance of fine jade at their side.

Wei Fan and Wang Qinghai could not help but look glum.

Wang Qinghai simply tugged at Zhang Yuanming's sleeve.

Zhang Yuanming had only ever been out of favor with his mother, Lady Yuan, since childhood, and with his plain, honest looks, no family matter, great or small, had ever been his to speak on—which was what gave people the impression that he was dull and slow-witted. In truth, he was no fool.

He quietly slowed his pace, gradually putting some distance between himself and Song Yan and Gu Yu.

Wang Qinghai immediately drew close. "Brother-in-law, how can we possibly compare with the Heir of the Duke of Yingguo and the little tyrant of the capital? We'll only make fools of ourselves!"

Since it was to be a ride, a circuit or two round the course was inevitable.

Wei Fan's mount was a very ordinary Shandong chestnut; his own was a gift from his father, the Marquis of Yan'an, four years ago. Long since grown old...

Zhang Yuanming understood at once. He thought for a moment, then said in a low voice, "Don't worry about this. Once we've seen the Heir of the Duke of Yingguo off, we'll talk it over carefully. A chance to make the acquaintance of the Heir of the Duke of Yingguo is rare indeed!"

Wang Qinghai understood this as well as anyone and nodded vigorously.

Who would have thought Song Yan and Gu Yu would see them all the way to the main gate? There was nothing for it but to get into their carriage, drive a circuit around the Jingzhen Duke's residence, and then return to the Jingzhen Duke's residence.

The relations among the Zhang brothers were tangled and complicated, and Zhang Yuanming did not want anyone else to know of this matter. He waited for Wei Fan and Wang Qinghai in the study of his own inner quarters.

"I've had two fine Mongolian horses picked out from our stables for you. Take them away now," he instructed the two in a low voice. "This afternoon, go try them out by the moat. If anything's not right, you must make sure to make a good impression on the Heir of the Duke of Yingguo and Gu Yu." Then he added, "And remember: tomorrow you are there as companions. Don't try to be heroes and compete for victory with the Heir of the Duke of Yingguo and Gu Yu. Just keep them happy—understand?"

The Mongolian horse was among the finest warhorses. With a mount like that, Wei Fan was full of confidence about the next day's ride.

"Don't worry, brother-in-law," he said with a smile. "They're just a pair of youngsters, for all their noble rank. We'd never stoop to their level."

"You'd need the skill to stoop to their level!" Wang Qinghai said, caught between laughter and exasperation. "I doubt you even know, do you? The Heir of the Duke of Yingguo can draw a bow of at least three dan, and his mount is called Feidu—a Wusun horse, said to cover a thousand li in a day. It was a gift from the Duke of Dingguo for his tenth birthday. The Song family has several more—rouge horses and Yanqi horses. The most famous are Hongyu, Fuyun, Chidian, Juechen, and Pingshan. Our family's Juequn was bred from one of the Song family's rouge mares—sired by the same dam as the Songs' Hongyu."

Of the rest he knew nothing, but the Wang family's Juequn he had seen with his own eyes—tall and sturdy, and when it ran it flew like wind and lightning. He had envied it no end, and secretly vowed that one day he too would find a way to get a fine horse like Juequn.

Wei Fan gave a dry laugh.

Zhang Yuanming seized the moment. "There's always a mountain beyond the mountain, a sky beyond the sky. From now on, you'd do well to keep your wits about you in all things."

This brother-in-law of his treated him well.

Wei Fan hastily assented.

Zhang Yuanming gave the two a few more words of caution, then saw them out.

Song Yan was playing pai gow with Zhou Jinping, the youngest son of Zhou Shaochuan, Earl of Donglin; Feng Zhi, the eldest legitimate grandson of Feng Jian'an, Earl of Yong'en; and Dong Qi, Heir of the Earl of Guang'en.

A great heap of broken silver and silver notes already lay on the table—two thousand taels at the very least.

Gu Yu, Zhang Xuming, and a crowd of other sons of the nobility gathered round the gambling table to watch, yet there was not a sound to be heard; you could have heard a pin drop.

Zhou Jinping was about twenty, with regular features, except that his eyes darted this way and that, giving one the impression that he was sly and not quite to be trusted.

He felt the tiles in his hand, glanced at Song Yan—seated at his ease in the grand armchair, who had barely looked at his own tiles before laying them face down on the table—then at Feng Zhi, whose face was ashen, and Dong Qi, whose expression was grave. He felt his tiles once more, then threw down the four in his hand and announced loudly, "I'm out!"

Two matched pairs—a six and a five—enough to make up a Double Goose and a Tiger Head.

The Double Goose ranked fifth, below only such hands as the Supremely Honored Treasure and the Double Heaven.

A murmur ran through the onlookers.

Feng Zhi's face turned uglier still; his eyes seemed to spit fire. "You fucking won't even follow on a Double Goose—are you a spineless bastard or what?"

Zhou Jinping sneered. "Song the Elder has already won three Supremely Honored hands in a row, and I still haven't seen a Ding Three. If you've got the guts, follow him yourself—I can't afford it."

"Then I'm out too!" No sooner had the words left his mouth than Dong Qi flung his four tiles down on the table as well.

A Heaven tile, a motley five, a plum blossom, and a red top—enough to make a seven-point set and a ten-point set.

Still no motley three in sight.

Everyone held their breath.

Feng Zhi's face went from green to white and white to green; it was a good while before he slammed his tiles down on the table. "I'm not raising either."

His were two plum tiles, an Earth tile, and a motley nine—enough to make a double plum and an Earth King.

A double plum ranked sixth in strength.

Zhou Jinping gave a soft snort.