Chapter 119 — Negotiation (Bonus Chapter for 1,170 Pink Votes)

"Let me think," she said with feigned lightness, smiling. "You brought a bookkeeper—well, Mr. Yan the bookkeeper is already here. Two stewards: one with an honest face, who was at your side just now; the other must be this gentleman standing beside Mr. Yan. Four guards—they are the ones who just threatened me with crossbows. A wet nurse, who must by now be weeping silently in the warm chamber behind your inner room. And an infant in swaddling, asleep in my arms. Everyone is here. But you came by carriage, and two carriages at that. Driving a carriage is the lowliest of trades, and the drivers usually sleep in the stables; still, however lowly, they are your men. Where have those two gone?"

The veins stood out on Song Yan's temples. His glare at Dou Zhiwei took on a shade of undisguised sharpness.

Dou Yan looked utterly oblivious as she called out loudly, "Sulan! When you went to fetch the young master just now, did you see the young master's carriage drivers?"

"I don't know if they were drivers," Sulan said, playing along with great gusto. "They didn't know the back window of the warm chamber could be opened from the outside. When I climbed in through the window, a big lummox was standing guard at the chamber door with his back to me. One chop of my hand and the wet nurse was out cold. Then I quietly took out that whatever-it's-called—the Pear-Blossom-in-a-Thunderstorm needle thing Uncle Duan gave me, soaked in numbing powder—and gave the fellow a whole load of it, till he was covered in needles. He glared at me twice and fell to the ground." Here she turned on Duan Bing with a complaint. "Uncle Duan, didn't you say that if a man was hit by those needles, even an ox would drop without a sound? When that fellow went down his eyes were still wide open, and when he saw me jump out the window with the young master in my arms he even gave two muffled grunts. That needle of yours isn't so reliable after all!"

Every gaze in the room fell on Duan Bing.

Duan Bing felt as though a thousand bright lamps had been turned on him, and broke out in a sudden profuse sweat. Then, remembering that he was dealing with the orphan of the Duke of Dingguo, he could not hide his guilty conscience; flustered, he seized the edge of his sleeve and wiped at his sweat, muttering in explanation, "It's a thing handed down from my ancestors—they only said it was for the descendants to protect their lives. It hasn't been used in decades. Maybe it's not so effective anymore..."

Sulan scolded him. "Uncle Duan, how could you give me something so unreliable? If it had failed, wouldn't I have been caught by that big lummox? Being caught would be a small matter—but if I had ruined the young lady's great plan, we would all have lost our lives!"

"That's so, that's so!" Duan Bing sweated all the more.

Yan Che, however, fixed a long look on Dou Yan, who sat there smiling at ease, relaxed and unhurried.

So this scheme had been hers all along.

He had thought it was Chen Yanzhou's idea.

Sulan's little comic interlude must have infuriated Song Yan thoroughly.

Dou Yan was naturally glad to see it.

But she could not let Sulan drag the talk too far afield.

She picked up the thread at just the right moment. "Sulan, the one you saw must have been one of the two carriage drivers... So where did the other one go?" Dou Yan mused aloud. "Could he have gone to carry word to the man entrusted with the orphan?" No sooner had the words left her mouth than she cried out in feigned terror, "Guard Duan, where have all our people gone? Young Master Mei held every advantage in daylight and yet did not strike—he must have felt his men too few and the risk too great, and sent that carriage driver to seek aid from the man entrusted with the orphan. Perhaps they had already agreed on a time to act... This is trouble!"

Chen Yanzhou, Duan Bing, Yan Che and the rest all went pale with shock.

Only Song Yan lifted his teacup, lowered his head slightly, and quietly took a few sips.

But the faint trembling of the hand that held the cup betrayed his fury.

What Dou Yan relied upon was nothing more than the infant in her arms.

She had once been a mother—how could she truly bring herself to harm this child?

All she had to rely on was the moon in the mirror and the flower in the water—illusions, nothing more.

If she wanted Song Yan to take her seriously, she had no choice but to keep provoking him.

"Ah!" Dou Yan sighed. "The gentleman stands in the light while I remain in the dark—and that is the trouble with it. I know how many men the gentleman has brought, but the gentleman does not know how many we number. I wonder where my other maid has gotten to? If a great crowd were to come charging into the farmstead to burn, kill, and plunder, could she make it back from Zhending Prefecture in time?"

Song Yan lifted his head, his expression grave and solemn, his gaze calm and rational.

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Dear sisters and brothers who read this, writing this has drained me terribly—please forgive my agonizing over it... I know it is a little late; I am posting this first and will fix the typos later, so read it for now, and refresh in about two hours, (n_n)o~

Save tonight's update for tomorrow morning!

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