Chapter 318 — The Meeting

Thinking of all this, .

Before long, Song Yan sensed her mood.

He wanted Dou Yan to always be happy when she was by his side.

"Hey!" Song Yan took a handkerchief and gently wiped away Dou Yan's tears, teasing her with a smile. "You're this rich and still crying? How are the rest of us—who think we're millionaires just because we own a few shops—supposed to live? Stop being sad, I'll count the money with you. All you have to do is think about how much profit you make every day, picture yourself lying on a bed of silver notes, and your mood will lift in no time."

Dou Yan couldn't help but burst out laughing. She snatched the handkerchief, wiped her face haphazardly, and said with a grin, "You're the one who lies on a bed of silver notes!" Yet in her heart she knew: if not for the warmth of Song Yan's embrace, she wouldn't have shed tears over such a small thing.

"I'd like to!" Seeing her laugh, Song Yan grew even more playful and pretended to sigh. "But I don't have that good fortune! I've still got a family to feed, money to save up so my son can take a wife and my daughter can be married off. I'm not like some people, who eat and drink their fill, don't spend a penny of their own money, and still manage to squirrel away a private stash."

Dou Yan couldn't stop laughing. Leaning on his shoulder, she said, "How about I give you half?"

"No, no." Song Yan shook his head solemnly. "I've finally gotten my father-in-law to look favorably on me. If half your fortune landed in my hands, wouldn't he turn on me at once? I'm still hoping to pry a few heirlooms out of him—and this way it'd all be down the drain! Besides, your money already belongs to my son and daughter anyway. If I lost my father-in-law's treasures for the sake of silver that's already within reach, would that be a fair trade?"

Dou Yan laughed till she could barely breathe.

Song Yan smiled faintly and drew Dou Yan into his arms once more.

"Let's not think about the past anymore." He kissed her forehead. "Let's look ahead—save up properly for our son and daughter, and let them live better than we do."

"All right!" Dou Zhiwei's eyes brimmed with tears again.

"Silly girl!" Song Yan patted her head. "Seeing as you've brought quite a dowry, I'll lend you Zhong Bingxiang for the time being. But it's agreed—half a year at most, and then he goes back to Guangdong. Have that Zhao Liangbi follow Shopkeeper Zhong and learn a few of his secret tricks properly."

"I know!" Dou Yan smiled brightly.

A person who truly has faith in herself will never deny her own worth just because someone is richer than she is, or higher in rank, or more renowned.

She had known that Song Yan would accept the size of her dowry as a matter of course.

Dou Yan gazed at the red lanterns outside the window. Her heart was as vibrant as their color—exceptionally good.

※※※※※

In the outer courtyard of the Duke of Ying's residence, Steward Chang, who was leading a group of guards on patrol, noticed that the western side court of Yizhi Hall—empty for the past few days—had suddenly lit up. Listening closely, he could even make out a hint of commotion.

He could not help asking the guard beside him, "Who's moved into the western side court of Yizhi Hall?"

Ever since Song Yan had killed all the guards who had once intruded into Yizhi Hall, he had lived in constant dread, fearing that Song Yan would one day remember and find some excuse to settle scores with him. He had thought of simply leaving, but then reflected that the world, vast as it was, offered no safe haven: if Song Yan truly meant to do away with him, apart from the Duke of Ying himself, no one could guarantee his safety.

So he had steeled himself and stayed.

Yet in his heart he remained forever in fear of Song Yan, avoiding him whenever possible, as if by doing so Song Yan might forget he existed.

Of course, he knew such hopes were far too lucky a gamble—but other than that, he had no other way.

Yizhi Hall, in particular, was a place he had no wish to set foot in.

The guard replied, "I heard it's a group of people sent by the madam. The heir cleared out the western side court of Yizhi Hall to house the madam's people."

"Do they need that many rooms?" Steward Chang muttered under his breath.

The guard said, "Thirty or forty of them, at least. Seems some family members haven't arrived yet."

Another guard chimed in, "Does the madam really have that many servants at her maiden home? Even when the Emperor marries off a princess, he doesn't award her every servant who once waited on her. Besides, these people's monthly stipends all come out of the madam's dowry. It's not as if Yizhi Hall lacks guards—why would the madam go to such unnecessary trouble?"

Steward Chang's heart stirred at these words.

Could these people be deathsworn warriors trained by Song Yan? Under the madam's name, the heir had installed them all in Yizhi Hall... What was the heir thinking? Would he harm the Duke?

The more he thought, the more he could not sit still. He hastily gave a few instructions to the guards and headed for the Osmanthus Court.

Ever since Song Yan had scuttled two of his marriage arrangements in a row, his social engagements had dwindled considerably. The nights were long and tedious, and with the New Year approaching, he had lately dug a few pieces of chicken-blood stone out of the storeroom, intending to carve some leisure seals to give away as gifts.

But gazing at the vividly colored chicken-blood stone in his hand, he thought again of the several pieces of Shoushan stone his mother, Lady Lu, had left behind.

A pity they were all in Song Yan's hands.

At the thought, his mood began to sour.

When he heard that Steward Chang was asking to see him, he first waved his hand and said coldly, "I won't see him." But no sooner had the words left his mouth than he thought of how diligently Steward Chang had served him these past days, and changed his mind. "Let him in."

Steward Chang hurriedly told the Duke of Ying what he had discovered, adding, "Originally, both Yizhi Hall and our own courtyard had only forty guards each. Now Yizhi Hall has thirty-some more... I fear that when the heir decides to act, we won't be able to hold him back!"

Did guards not cost silver?

Song Cen shot Steward Chang a glance, his face dark as a sky about to rain.

Why had his mother given her entire dowry to Song Yan in the first place?

He ordered Steward Chang, "Go and find out exactly how many men the heir has recruited. How skilled are they? And do they truly have any connection to the madam?"

If the Dou family were to meddle in this, it would be trouble indeed.

Steward Chang had no choice but to steel himself and assent. He tossed and turned half the night, and only at dawn the next day did he appear, uneasy, at the gate of Yizhi Hall. Just as he was hesitating over what excuse to use to enter, seven or eight powerfully built men came out, escorting an elderly scholar in a blue Taoist robe.

"Old Chen, shall we go to Puji Temple first, or Baiyun Abbey?" he heard one of the men ask the old man.

The old man laughed. "Today I'll do as you all say. Wherever you say we go, we go."

The group burst out laughing.

The old man laughed along with them.

His smile was gentle and refined, his bearing altogether extraordinary.

But Guard Chang's eyes went wide.

That—wasn't that Chen Yanzhou, the one who had fled from the Ying Duke's manor?

What was he doing here?

Guard Chang's heart began to pound wildly.

His mind was in chaos; seven or eight thoughts flashed through it at once, and he could not catch hold of a single one. Only a vague sense of dread kept welling up inside him.

Instinct told Guard Chang to slip away.

But Chen Yanzhou had already come over with Chen Lanxu and the others.

Spying Guard Chang, surrounded by a few of his men, he gave a slight nod and brushed past him with perfect composure.