Main Text, Chapter Eighty-Six: The Awful Song Family Wine

As the eldest son of the Song family had said, the second son did indeed come to see Jiang An the next day. He came in person and met him in the study.

"Mr. Jiang, this is yours."

Song Chengying was only a few days younger than Song Wanshuang and not yet thirty. With swordlike brows, bright eyes, and a keen, sharp air about him, he carried himself with measured composure and evident cultivation.

Upon greeting each other, he shook Jiang An's hand, and after they took their seats across from one another, he pushed a box straight toward him.

When it was opened, it held a dazzling ruby necklace.

"This was carelessly brought back by that useless distant cousin of mine. It was your wife’s jewelry. Now it is being returned to its rightful owner. Of course, I have also given them a thorough lesson," Song Chengying said evenly.

"No need. It's only a necklace. Since someone else has worn it, let them keep it."

At that, Jiang An waved a hand and swept the necklace, box and all, into the wastebasket, not treating it as anything worth mentioning.

"I'll get straight to the point. Mr. Jiang should have met my elder brother yesterday. What terms did he offer you?" Song Chengying leaned back and asked without the slightest pretense.

"The Song family's heirloom jade. The condition was that I stay out of it," Jiang An said plainly.

"Good. I'll give you the heirloom jade, and in addition, the position of chief elder in the Song Family Council." Song Chengying immediately raised the stakes. "In a sense, the chief elder can stand on equal footing with the family head."

"Heh. I'm an outsider. I'm not interested in becoming the Song family's chief elder. Even if you are elected family head, only the eldest son would be qualified for that position, wouldn't he?" Jiang An smiled faintly. "And if I may speak frankly, Second Young Master, your chances are very slim."

This year's family head, Song Han, was already sixty-five. If he retired behind the scenes at seventy, the eldest son would be forty-five, exactly the golden age of a man who was steady, mature, and fit to lead the family. By then, the second son would only be in his early thirties. Age alone made him rather unsuitable.

"Very slim? So Mr. Jiang thinks so little of me?" Song Chengying smiled lightly, entirely unbothered.

"On the other hand, you've offered me such a large reward, so your demands must be equally great. Yet with the eldest son, I need do nothing at all," Jiang An said, as though he had another meaning in mind.

"Very well. I understand what you mean, Mr. Jiang. In that case, I won't say more. I hope you and your family enjoy yourselves here. Farewell."

Song Chengying rose, shook hands, and took his leave.

This slightly surprised Jiang An. Did the conversation simply end because they were not of one mind?

"All right. I won't see you out," Jiang An said.

Watching Song Chengying's departing figure, Jiang An frowned. This man was no simple character, perhaps even more inscrutable than Song Chengzong. And that was not merely a matter of scheming. It was his cultivation. Though he looked, at first glance, like nothing more than a master at the hidden force level, Jiang An's keen intuition stirred faintly. This man was absolutely not as simple as he appeared.

Still, let them be. Whatever plots or counterplots they devised, Jiang would take no part in their affairs.

"Daddy, Mommy and Auntie went out. Hurry and come play with me!"

The little darling Xixi poked her head in from outside and called to the brooding Jiang An.

"All right, coming now." Jiang An's face immediately broke into a smile.

"Then Daddy, crouch down. Xixi wants to ride a horse!"

"Fine, I'll give you a ride!"

...

In the blink of an eye, the fifth day of the first month arrived. Hui Shiyuan was ablaze with lanterns and decorations, bustling with voices and merriment, alive with a holiday spirit and a ceaseless flow of carriages and horses.

Under the command of Chief Steward Song Qi, countless Song family servants sprang into action, guiding and receiving guests with everything arranged in perfect order and not the least bit chaotic. The main venue for the banquet was set in Wanshi Hall, one of the Song family's most important buildings, ordinarily reserved only for major clan assemblies.

Wanshi Hall was large, but not large enough for so many tables. The banquet therefore spilled out into the courtyard, where seating naturally followed rank and closeness of ties: the nearer to the hall, the greater the prestige.

Jiang An sat alone at one of the tables inside Wanshi Hall, in the second tier of seating. At the very center were, of course, the birthday celebrant's family and the most important guests, such as the heads of other great families or senior officials from central ministries. After all, Family Head Song Han himself held an important post in the central government, though he would soon retire.

When the auspicious hour arrived, the birthday star, Song Han, appeared before everyone. Yet for some reason, his wife, the Song family matriarch, still had not shown herself.

White hair, dark brows, bright and penetrating eyes, a square face marked by great dignity, and a gait as steady as the earth—he radiated the authority of long residence in high office. His spirit and vigor made him seem nothing like a sixty-five-year-old man, but rather a middle-aged gentleman in the prime of life.

What a master! Jiang An instantly discerned the man's cultivation. He was the strongest person Jiang had encountered since his return, unquestionably a great expert at the third realm of grandmasterhood. In Jiang's perception, his presence surged like billowing waves, vast and torrential. Though Song Han was doing his utmost to restrain it, a thread of sharp brilliance still leaked through. He had not yet achieved perfect unity of movement and stillness, nor the effortless command of expansion and contraction; he must have only recently broken through.

Jiang An wondered whether he could now defeat a grandmaster of the third realm.

After taking his seat on the main chair, he was greeted by thunderous applause. Smiling broadly, he appeared most at ease.

"Thank you all for gracing my humble home and attending my birthday banquet. You honor me beyond measure. Today, we drink until we drop!" Song Han clasped his hands and thanked the guests on all sides.

"Good!"

Another round of cheers rose from the hundreds present. Their giving of face was generous, and the atmosphere became exceedingly lively.

"Father, this is the birthday gift I offer you. May you enjoy blessings as vast as the Eastern Sea and long life as enduring as the Southern Mountain!" As the legitimate eldest son, Song Chengzong was the first to present his gift. It was a finely crafted jade Buddha, carved to resemble Song Han himself, vivid and lifelike, wondrous in its workmanship.

"Good! Good. Chengzong, you were thoughtful." Song Han smiled, glanced at the jade Buddha, and had Song Qi, who stood behind him, take it away.

"I'm glad Father likes it." Song Chengzong was very pleased. Then he beckoned his son forward and said with a smile, "Mingxuan, bring out the gift you prepared for your grandfather."

"Oh? My dear grandson has prepared a gift for me too?" Song Han's face lit up with delight.

The little boy Jiang An had met came over. With so many people watching, he was extremely nervous, his small face flushed red, yet he behaved like a little adult. Reaching the seat before Song Han, he kowtowed several times before offering up his gift and saying in his clear child’s voice, "This is the birthday couplet I wrote myself. Father said that a gift bought with money cannot show filial devotion. Please accept it, Grandfather!"

Song Han was so moved that his heart swelled with warmth. Smiling, he opened the couplet. "May clouds and cranes grant a thousand years of longevity; may ancient pines remain green through ten thousand springs." The two lines were written in bold, square characters with strict propriety and considerable style. Though still somewhat childlike, writing brush calligraphy at such an age was already very good.

"Mingxuan wrote this well. Grandfather is very happy." Song Han patted the boy's head, then turned to Song Qi and said, "Uncle Qi, bring me that jade pendant."

"Yes." Song Qi nodded and went to the rear courtyard. Before long, he returned with a white jade pendant and handed it to Song Han.

"This piece of lucid jade has been in Grandfather's hands for thirty years. From today onward, it is yours. Don't lose it." As he spoke, Song Han placed the pendant in Mingxuan's hand.

Mingxuan hurriedly kowtowed again in thanks.

Next came Second Young Master Song Chengying. Knowing that the old man liked calligraphy, he had somehow obtained an authentic work by the Sage of Calligraphy, which Song Han likewise received with pleasure.

Then came Song Qiuke.

In truth, all of this was merely formality. The guests' gifts had mostly been handed over to the Song family in advance; this scene was staged simply to present the harmonious image of a family where father was kind and sons were filial, brothers amicable and respectful. Jiang An found it all dreadfully dull.

He, too, had prepared a gift, intending to have someone deliver it after the banquet.

Who would have thought that after Song Qiuke finished offering his birthday gift, and by rights the turn should have passed to the others of the next generation, Song Han suddenly raised a hand to halt things and said, "My daughter and son-in-law are here too, aren't they? Why not take this chance to introduce them to everyone?"

The words struck like a thunderclap. The guests were all stunned, whispering among themselves. Didn't the family head of the Song family only have one daughter, and wasn't she not yet twenty? Where did a son-in-law come from?

Seated at the first table was a broad man with eyes like copper bells and brows like thick ink. Looking displeased, he said, "Brother, since this is the Song family's internal offering of birthday gifts, we needn't have others join in. If there is anything, we can decide it later in the Family Council."

This man was Song Han's younger brother, the current chief elder of the Family Council, Song Cang.

"What does this have to do with the Family Council? Must I not be allowed to see my own daughter and son-in-law?" Song Han smiled, but his tone admitted no objection. His gaze passed over the crowd and settled accurately on Jiang An.

So this was how it was. Jiang An knew that the longer this dragged on, the more of a joke it would become, so he rose on his own, motioning silently to stop Song Wanshuang from getting up as well. Under the gaze of the crowd, he walked to Song Han's front, drew out a square jade box, and said, "As for the daughter and son-in-law, let that be. This is the gift we prepared. If Old Master Song likes it, keep it; if not, throw it away."

The remark was frankly rude, and the guests were all dumbfounded. What in the world was going on? Song Han's expression naturally darkened. He looked at Jiang An for a long moment before saying flatly, "I accept the gift. You may go down."

Jiang An turned at once and returned to his seat. It was not that he lacked manners; rather, Song Han had gone too far. Their family had been in Hui Shiyuan for two or three days, yet he had offered no greeting at all, nor had he made any effort on Song Wanshuang's behalf. Now he suddenly chose to expose them before everyone. Perhaps his intention was good—to let others know of their connection to the Song family so that no one would dare bully them recklessly in the future—but Jiang An did not care for it in the least.

Even Song Cang gave a slight shake of the head, a trace of mockery appearing at the corner of his mouth.

The atmosphere naturally grew awkward. Song Han seemed to lose his appetite for the occasion and waved a hand. "Enough. Let's begin the banquet directly!"

Song Qi behind him then called loudly, "Begin the banquet!"

As soon as the words fell, attendants filed in one after another, moving gracefully and quickly through the crowd to place dish after exquisite, luxurious dish upon the tables. Steam rose in curling wisps, and in an instant the rich fragrance of the feast filled both hall and courtyard.

Soon the dishes were ready. Song Han raised his cup, and those around him followed suit; those in the courtyard raised theirs as well. Everyone drank the first toast together.

With the Song family's best efforts to smooth things over, the atmosphere soon became lively once more. People ate and drank, laughed and chatted—the proper scene for a banquet at last.

Jiang An's table was a bit more delicate, of course. Everyone avoided him as though he were a plague god, and none dared speak to him. After drinking one cup, Jiang An did not lift his chopsticks again, and he ignored the looks others cast his way.

Then suddenly, his nose twitched slightly. Something seemed off.

"Dammit, what kind of rotten wine is this from the Song family? It's disgusting!"

Someone abruptly stood, smashed his cup hard to the floor, and a rough voice rang out across the entire hall.