Chapter 514 — Plain Words

Song Cen nearly choked on his own breath. Dou Yan's upright figure, the calm expression as she spoke, and the faint disdain in her tone sent a chill through his heart.

The Prince of Liao was his soft spot now; he dared not clash head-on with Dou Yan.

Song Cen gritted his teeth and, before Dou Yan could step out of the flower hall, called out in a low voice, "Stop right there." Then: "Is that any way to speak to your father-in-law?"

Dou Yan smiled faintly, looking deferential enough, though a trace of scorn showed in her face.

To be treated so lightly by his own daughter-in-law made Song Cen's cheeks burn. Almost fleeing, he walked out, saying, "Come with me to the study to talk."

Dou Yan followed.

The serving women in the room let out long breaths and exchanged glances, amusement glinting in their eyes as though they were watching a play.

The Duke of Zhen always tried to get the better of his lady, and every time she parried him with effortless grace—yet the Duke, refusing to believe it, tried again at every chance. This time he had lost once more.

They drifted off in twos and threes, their fear and respect for Song Cen a little diminished.

Song Cen, of course, knew nothing of it.

He dismissed the servant boy attending the study and asked Dou Yan bluntly, "What has happened to the Prince of Liao?"

Dou Yan had no patience to bandy words with him. "His Majesty found it humiliating, so he announced that the Prince of Liao was summoned to the capital to nurse his illness, when in truth he is imprisoned at the Emperor's side. According to the Heir, the Prince of Liao will not be interrogated until His Majesty moves to the Western Garden. I have come this time on Song Han's account. With him talking so recklessly, even if the Heir wished to shield you, I fear he could not save the Duke of Zhen. I suggest you strike first. On the grounds that Song Han intended misconduct toward his concubine mother, strike Song Han from the family register. That way, even if he rants abroad, others will merely take him for a man nursing a grudge over being cast out of the household..."

Song Cen listened in utter horror.

He had never imagined that Dou Yan had come to him for this.

What he had imagined even less was that she could speak of something so vicious as though discussing what dishes had been cooked that day, or what flowers had been embroidered.

Had he been underestimating Dou Yan all this time?

Song Cen could not help but study his eldest daughter-in-law closely.

Her upright bearing, her bright glancing eyes, the rose-purple brocade over-jacket woven in two shades of gold, the sliver of moon-white standing collar fastened with a gold camellia inlaid with a hundred gems—radiant, with a touch of martial crispness; crisp, with a touch of splendor. Standing there so quietly, she gave him all the same a sense of being pressed upon.

For no reason at all, Song Cen thought of a beautiful snake.

Was not this woman before him like a beautiful snake? How had he ever taken her for a mere shrew?

Song Han had made her suffer a loss, and she meant to be rid of Song Han. He himself had played a part in that affair. Would she not be scheming to be rid of him as well?

Song Cen's throat tightened, and he involuntarily stepped back.

"That will never do!" he said, forcing himself to go on. "If we do that, the reputation of the Duke of Zhen's household is finished—and the household will sooner or later pass to Yuan Heng. You cannot let Yuan Heng inherit a house whose name is dragged through the mud?"

He had heard that the Dou woman had nursed Yuan Heng herself. Invoking Yuan Heng's name, she would surely have to restrain herself a little?

To his surprise, the Dou woman was unperturbed. Leisurely, she said to him, "If I were not mindful of that, I would have sent the Second Madam to the Shuntian Prefecture to beat the drum and lodge a complaint long ago. I merely want you to go into the palace and speak to His Majesty. Once His Majesty agrees, what does it matter what others say? You may even prove your loyalty to His Majesty. Two birds with one stone—why would you not?"

She was forcing him to cast Song Han out of the household!

Song Cen's head throbbed. "A thing like this requires the ancestral hall to be opened. Once the hall is opened, it cannot be kept secret. It is not as simple as you make it sound."

Dou Yan gave a derisive laugh. "When you wanted to strike the Heir from the register, the First, Third, and Fourth Lords said not a word. Why is it that when it comes to Song Han, the lords' courage suddenly swells? You cannot bear to part with Song Han, is that it? I suppose there is reason in that—without Song Han, what would you use to vex the Heir? But matters have come to this, and you must think clearly. Which matters more: vexing the Heir, or preserving your own life? The Heir has the merit of following the dragon. If you come to harm, at worst his faults and merits cancel out and he remains Heir of the Duke of Zhen's household—no, perhaps His Majesty in his wrath will strip you of your title and hand the Duke of Zhen's household directly to the Heir..." She smiled with a touch of gloating. "At any rate, I have said my piece. Whether you listen is up to you." She rose. "I shall go now. The Heir will be back shortly, and I must see to his meal."

Every hair on Song Cen's body stood on end.

How did the Dou woman know about the events of that year?

Could it be Song Yan?

Song Han had already fallen into Song Yan's hands. Even if Song Han confessed everything, Song Yan was capable of fabricating a false confession and pinning all the blame on him.

Song Han dies, or I die—Song Cen made his decision quickly enough.

Loudly, he called after Dou Yan as she walked out: "Was it Song Yan who sent you to tell me this?"

Without Song Yan's nod, how could a mere woman like Dou Yan, however vicious her schemes, dare to defy him?

Dou Yan did not answer, and left the study.

Song Cen grew all the more certain that this was Song Yan's doing.

Still, the Dou woman had been calm and composed from first to last—she was no pushover either. Perhaps she had helped Song Yan hatch a good many of these schemes.

At the thought, he started in alarm.

Song Yan might be venomous and ruthless, but he was still his son and would not dare do him real harm. The Dou woman, though, was an outsider—and Song Yan doted on her. If she set her mind to mischief...

Song Cen rubbed his brow and began pacing the room.

Why did the Dou woman hate Song Han so? Beyond the great loss Song Han had made her suffer, it was probably also connected to his own favor toward Song Han—and to her fear that he might pass the title to Song Han.

If Song Yan had a concubine-born son, and that son proved cleverer and livelier than the son Dou Yan had borne, healthier and more pleasing to Song Yan... Dou Yan would surely move against Song Yan too, would she not?

In those days, when Li Tiaoniang was with child, was it not precisely because Madam Jiang feared that a son born to Li Tiaoniang would harm Song Ke's prospects that she turned a blind eye and let his father deal with Li Tiaoniang?

At that thought, Song Cen's mood suddenly lifted.

It may not show now, but Song Yan has not yet come of age, and he himself has decades of life ahead of him. Who can say what the future holds?

He could not help but chuckle a few times, and suddenly felt that Song Han no longer seemed so important in his heart.

※※※※※

In Yizhi Hall, Dou Yan sat on the large kang by the window, knotting a cord.

From time to time she lifted her head to glance at Song Yan, who held Yuan Heng in his arms and was writing large characters.

Under her gaze, Song Yan could write no longer. He looked up and asked, "What is it?"

Dou Yan said, "Isn't it a little early to teach Yuan Heng to read at this age?"