Chapter 242 — Seeing Through

By now all of Dou Juan's relatives had arrived. Outside there was bustle and clamor, but in the bride's room there were surprisingly few people.

Dou Yan was leisurely finishing her breakfast when Ji Yong came in.

He asked Dou Yan, "Are you really set on marrying Song Yan?"

Dou Yan nodded very seriously and said, "I think he's a decent man!"

Ji Yong was instantly furious. He glared and snapped, "I can't be bothered with you," then flung his sleeves and stalked off.

Dou Yan smiled.

At least Ji Yong hadn't turned on Song Chudun without rhyme or reason.

Of course, she didn't think Song Ji would come to any harm, but she was still glad that Ji Yong could respect her decision.

Zhao Zhangru came running in. "Shouyuan, may I come visit you from now on?" She looked a little melancholy.

Dou Yan remembered how, when they were small, the two of them had crouched together under a tree watching ants.

"Of course!" She put an arm around her cousin's shoulders, her eyes moist, and said, "Didn't you say you wanted to have a good look around the Yingzhen Duke's estate? I've heard people say its back garden was built in imitation of Jiangnan gardens, drawing water from the Taiye Pool to fill a lake—you can row a boat there in summer, skate on it in winter, and fish in spring and autumn. It would be such a shame if you didn't see it with your own eyes!"

Zhao Zhangru laughed. "Trying to fool me again! In spring the fish are no bigger than mung beans—how could anyone fish for them?" Yet tears were already slipping down her cheeks.

Dou Yan's heart ached at once, and she began to cry too.

For a moment the room was filled with the weeping of the two sisters, lending it a little of the air of a bride's departure.

It took them a long while to stop their tears. Then Dou Yan gave Zhao Zhangru two sets of pure-gold hair ornaments that she had never worn.

Zhao Zhangru refused. "You're the one getting married—I ought to be adding to your trousseau, not taking things from you!"

"Didn't you embroider a horse-face skirt for me with your own hands?" Dou Yan insisted on giving them to her. "I want to leave you something to remember me by."

From now on, Dou Yan would be another family's daughter-in-law, eating from another family's bowl and under another family's thumb—how could she do whatever she pleased, the way she had at home?

Thinking this, Zhao Zhangru clutched the red-lacquered gilt box containing the ornaments and began to cry again.

"My little ancestor," said her mother, who had come in to say farewell to Dou Yan, caught between laughter and tears at the sight. "The bride isn't crying, and here you are weeping without end! Those who know would say you can't bear to part with your cousin; those who don't would think you're the one getting married! Stop crying now. Let Sujuan help you wash your face, and go happily help your cousin entertain the guests!"

After the noon meal, the hairdresser, the face-washer, and the woman of good fortune all arrived, and she had no further chance to talk with Dou Yan.

Zhao Zhangru's tears gave way to a smile, and she murmured under her breath, "If only I could be married too."

Her mother hadn't caught it clearly and scolded, "What are you muttering about now?"

"Nothing, nothing." Zhao Zhangru's face flushed faintly.

Dou Yan had heard every word.

Her heart stirred.

She hadn't expected her cousin to want so badly to marry. Could she play matchmaker for her?

Never mind past lives or what came before—she had changed plenty of things since her rebirth, and one more wouldn't matter.

Zhao Zhangru let Sujuan help her redo her hair and wash her face while she listened to her mother instruct Dou Yan on all she should mind after entering her husband's house—the last time Dou Yan had been about to marry into the Wei family, her aunt had told her about the wedding night but hadn't had time to teach her these tricks of social dealings; she had been regretting the oversight, and it had never occurred to her that Dou Yan would marry a second time, which made up for that regret.

The Yingzhen Duke's estate was a place of treacherous currents; Song Cen was not a father-in-law in any ordinary sense, nor was Song Yan a husband in any ordinary sense. Dou Yan guessed that none of what her aunt was saying would be of any use to her—yet she listened with a smile, nodding from time to time, looking thoroughly docile and obedient.

Her aunt was greatly satisfied and talked for a full hour, draining four or five cups of tea before finally stopping, still reluctant to leave off.

Suxin had already come in and out of the room three or four times.

Dou Yan rose without a word to go brew more tea for her aunt.

Suxin hurried after her.

"What's happened?" Dou Yan asked softly.

Suxin said urgently, "The master and the mistress are quarreling!"

Dou Yan was stunned.

The previous afternoon, Wang Shuying had suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood and fainted, for some reason no one knew. Mama Hu hurried to report it to Dou Huaiying, but unfortunately Dou Bingheng had shut the doors to lecture him. Gao Sheng naturally could not let anyone burst in, and fearing to disturb the happy occasion of Dou Zhiwei's wedding, he took it upon himself to quietly summon a physician and bring him in through the back gate.

The physician said it was anger attacking the heart, wrote out several prescriptions, then shook his head and said that diseases of the heart must be cured by the heart—if Wang Shuying did not ease her mind, not only would she likely never recover, but her illness would easily become chronic and leave her lingering on a sickbed.

At this Gao Sheng grew frantic.

How could he make decisions in a matter this grave?

He went to seek Dou Huaiying's instructions, but Dou Huaiying was in high spirits, playing chess with Dou Yan.

Fearing to spoil Dou Huaiying's mood, Gao Sheng held his tongue. Only after the two had finished their game, taken a late-night meal together, and strolled about the back garden for a good while to aid digestion—only after Dou Yan had returned to her room—did Gao Sheng report the matter to Dou Huaiying.

Dou Huaiying hurried off to visit Wang Shuying.

No one knew which maid or old serving-woman had provoked Wang Shuying—or perhaps she had fallen ill and Dou Huaiying had been nowhere to be seen. In any case Wang Shuying was venting her spleen by berating the servants around her, and even Mama Hu had not escaped.

Dou Huaiying was the most sentimental of men. When the maids and pages who had served him long years were married off or sent out to take up posts, he always gave them generous rewards, and his temper was so mild that the serving women held him dearest in their hearts. Anything that concerned Dou Huaiying, they vied with one another to do well for him, and their affection for him was genuine. And because these people had all been carefully chosen by Gao Sheng, in Dou Huaiying's mind the maids and old women of the household were all steady, dependable, and wholly devoted.

Hearing Wang Shuying scold without rhyme or reason, he was already somewhat displeased; but at the thought that tomorrow was Dou Yan's wedding day, he forced down his irritation and went in to ask after her illness.

After Dou Huaiying's few words of persuasion, Wang Shuying gradually grew calm, and only then did Dou Huaiying return to his room to rest.

That morning, when Dou Yan heard of the matter, she dimly thought of those two boxes of silver drafts.

If Wang Shuying were to learn that those two boxes of silver drafts, meant for Dou Ming, had been delivered by her own hand to Dou Yan instead, she would surely vomit blood with rage.

Dou Chijin said, "Why did those two start quarreling?"