Chapter 327 — Thoughts

Tao Jun watched Song Cen raging like a thunderstorm and found it somewhat unbelievable. He thought that if this continued,

Good medicine tastes bitter.

He could not afford to worry about propriety any longer. Lowering his voice, he said, "Lord Zhenguo, calm yourself! Even if the Heir harbored some unfilial thought, he could not possibly act on it at a time like this, in such a manner—the one treating you is an imperial physician from the Imperial Medical Academy, and your medicine was dispensed from the Imperial Medical Office. If anything happened, every step would be traceable. The Heir is no child of seven or eight; he has served in His Majesty's presence these past years and surely knows the regulations governing the Imperial Medical Academy's prescriptions. He would never do something that amounts to digging his own grave. Rest assured!"

There was one thing he did not say, for fear it would worsen Song Cen's condition.

Given the Heir's capabilities, he could have simply enraged Lord Zhenguo to death—why take such a great risk with so crude a method as poisoning?

Tao Jun's words gradually calmed Song Cen's emotions, but he was still uneasy. He instructed Tao Jun: "My medicine—you had best have someone reliable brew it!"

Three feet of ice does not form in a single day.

Tao Jun had long since given up hope that Song Cen and Song Yan could reconcile. Seeing that Song Cen was no longer biting at everyone like a madman, he breathed a sigh of relief and said hurriedly, "I will brew the medicine myself. My duties are light in any case." This way, he would no longer have to follow Song Yan around all day, and visitors coming to inquire after the sick would not keep mistaking him for a steward Song Cen had sent to Song Yan's side to find fault with his household management, ordering him about as though he were a servant.

Song Cen felt a strange discomfort in his heart at this.

He had failed to make things difficult for Song Yan, and instead had made things difficult for his own man.

He nodded silently and, with an awkward air, went to bed to rest.

With Tao Jun helping to brew the medicine, Dou Yan was happy to have the leisure.

She set up a four-panel screen in the tea room and went there each day to do needlework. Those who did not know better assumed Dou Yan was still brewing medicine for Song Yan. Tao Jun did not disabuse them of the notion. One did needlework, the other brewed medicine, and they coexisted peacefully enough.

After a few days, Song Cen could gradually draw breath without gasping. He asked Tao Jun, "Are the accounts from Yizhi Hall settled yet?"

"They were just finished tomorrow." Tao Jun hesitated a moment, then said, "I heard the Madam brought over two hundred thousand taels of silver..."

Song Cen was greatly startled. He said, "How does the Dou family have so much silver?"

Tao Jun shook his head. "Even if the Seventh Master of the Dou family has no son, the First and Second Masters have sons aplenty—they could simply adopt one. How could the Dou clan possibly let the Madam bring over so much property..."

Song Cen felt another faint ache in his heart. He could not help grinding his teeth: "We must find out Chen Bo's background as quickly as possible. I refuse to believe the Dou family would add so much silver to Dou Shi's dowry for no reason! Go call Lu Zheng's wife in. I gave her five hundred taels of silver to buy over the people around Dou Shi."

Five hundred taels!

Tao Jun was secretly somewhat astonished.

Even when he himself retired and returned to his hometown, he might not receive five hundred taels of silver as a farewell gift.

With mixed feelings, Tao Jun had Lu Zheng's wife called in.

Lu Zheng's wife's face flushed with shame: "The maids and serving women and old women around the Madam are mostly from Zhending. They stick together and do not associate with the people of our household. The few who are hereditary servants were also chosen by the Madam, and the Heir arranged for them to be sent over." She did not dare say those people were loyal to Song Yan, only that "those people are even more stubborn and unyielding. This slave has dealt with the people of Yizhi Hall for some time now, yet has never managed to get a word with those who serve the Madam closely." As she spoke, she took out a stack of silver notes Song Cen had originally rewarded her and placed them on a small stool nearby. "This slave has gone in and out of the hanging-flower gate of Yizhi Hall; tipping the old women guarding the gate came to twenty taels of silver in total. Treating the old women who sweep the courtyard to wine cost twenty-one taels. Buying snacks, hair flowers, and hair oil for a few young maids cost five taels..."

Hearing that Lu Zheng's wife had made no progress, Song Cen was impatient, but for once he did not lose his temper: "Enough, enough! You need not tell me all this. Give the accounts to Zeng Wu. You may go."

Lu Zheng's wife hurriedly curtsied and withdrew.

Song Cen looked at Tao Jun and said, "It seems this matter will have to trouble you, sir!"

Tao Jun answered "Yes" in a solemn voice, his mind racing.

Over on the other side, Dou Yan instructed Song Yan: "Lift your foot. Let me see if this sock fits."

Song Yan, who had been lounging on the kang reading, quickly extended his foot to Dou Yan.

Dou Yan sat on a brocade stool by the kang and took out the socks she had made in the tea room these past days for Song Yan to try on.

They fit perfectly.

It had been years since she had done needlework; she had not expected her skill to have faded.

Dou Yan nodded with satisfaction and decided that tomorrow she would make Song Yan several pairs of shoes for spring, and then begin making spring garments for him.

She had Suxin bring the nail scissors and said to Song Yan with feigned reproach: "A grown man like you, with a whole crowd of young servants and maids around you, and you cannot even trim your toenails."

They are not that bad, are they?

Song Yan looked at his toenails.

Dou Yan had already taken hold of his foot and begun trimming his nails.

Song Yan felt as though a corner of his heart had suddenly gone soft, as though spring water had spread through it, rippling inexplicably in the depths of his being, setting his heart trembling.

He propped himself on his elbow and gazed at Dou Yan.

Under the lamplight, Dou Zhiwei's long lashes were like little fans, fluttering and casting a shadow upon her eyelids, setting off skin as white as snow and lips as red as lotus petals.

He knew his Shouyuan was beautiful, but he had not expected her to be this beautiful—beautiful as moonlight at the edge of the sky, gentle and luminous, so that he could not tear his gaze from her face.

Dou Yan gave Song Yan's foot a light pat and said with a curved smile, "There. The other foot."

Song Yan came back to himself and hastily removed his sock, extending the other foot.

Dou Yan carefully finished trimming Song Yan's toenails, then looked them over with satisfaction and said to him, "Give me your hand and let me see."

Song Yan obediently extended his hand.

His hands were white, fine, and slender, with well-defined knuckles, each finger like jade, the nails round and neat, delicate and beautiful, without a single flaw.

Dou Yan could not help but purse her lips and smile, giving his hand a light slap. "You hypocrite!"

He did not bother with his toenails, yet trimmed his fingernails so neatly.

Song Yan suddenly reached out and lifted Dou Yan onto the kang.

Caught off guard, Dou Yan's cry of surprise landed in Song Yan's arms.

"You scared me to death." Dou Yan looked at her palm pressed against Song Yan's chest. A small pair of scissors still dangled from her thumb. "If I had hurt you, what then? You must never be so reckless again."

Song Yan's eyes sparkled. "I knew you would not hurt me." As he spoke, he lowered his head and kissed her lips.

Dou Yan followed his lead and lingered with him in tenderness.