Song of the Bright Moon Chapter 100

Within three days, word spread through the capital—

Eldest Princess Jinhua had written a confession and taken her own life to atone for her crimes.

Emperor Zhaoning, stricken with grief, ordered the confession to be copied and posted publicly across the city as a warning to all. He also decreed that the criminals involved in the abduction case—Qiu Po and the rest—be executed, their family properties confiscated.

All brothels and private dens implicated in the case were punished according to severity: fined, shut down, or imprisoned.

Half of the confiscated assets were absorbed into the national treasury; the rest, at Consort Xian’s suggestion, were used to establish the Hall of Spring Radiance—a charitable institution dedicated to compensating the victims, helping them rebuild their lives, and rescuing other women sold into foreign lands.

The edict’s publication drew unanimous praise from the people.

They lauded the Emperor’s wisdom— and the Consort’s virtue.

The emperor, upon hearing the people’s praises and songs of gratitude, was overjoyed. During court assembly, he commended Pei Xia lavishly: “In this case, Shouzhen’s integrity and perseverance deserve the highest merit. Shouzhen, whatever reward you desire, speak it plainly.”

Pei Xia, dressed in a red official robe and holding his ivory tablet, stepped forward with lowered eyes and a calm face. “It is this minister’s duty to share Your Majesty’s burdens. I dare not claim credit. Moreover, this case was not resolved by my efforts alone. If not for the Second Prince, as well as the assistance of the Capital Prefecture, the Ministry of Justice, and the Dali Temple, the truth would not have come to light so swiftly.”

Emperor Zhaoning was deeply pleased by Pei Xia’s modest and composed demeanor. Stroking his beard, he said, “All my loyal ministers are the pillars of my throne. I have always rewarded merit and punished fault fairly. You have earned reward, and so have they.”

After a brief pause for thought, he decreed, “Promote Pei Xia to Chengzhi of the Hanlin Academy. Grant him a crimson robe and a silver fish pouch, along with one hundred taels of gold and twenty bolts of tribute silk.”

The officials in the hall were silently astonished.

Pei Xia, at such a young age, had already been appointed a fifth-rank scholar of the Hanlin Academy — rare enough. Now, only half a year after entering court, he was being promoted again to Chengzhi.

Though the difference between the two ranks was but half a grade, every Grand Chancellor in history had once served as Chengzhi. In other words, given a few more years of experience, Pei Xia was destined to be the next Grand Chancellor.

Pei Xia kowtowed and thanked Emperor Zhaoning. The emperor then commended the Second Prince and the officials of the Three Judicial Departments in turn.

For a moment, the court was filled with harmony and joy.

Only the Third Prince, behind his forced smile, clenched his fists tightly.

When he returned to his residence, the more he thought about it, the more aggrieved he felt. Finally, he went straight to the side courtyard where Xie Wuling was temporarily staying.

At that time, Xie Wuling was lying lazily on the bed, his legs crossed in leisure, holding a military text that had fully absorbed his attention.

The sudden sound of someone announcing a visitor made him lower his book and glance toward the doorway.

Seeing it was the Third Prince, he rose from his indigo silk pillow, bracing himself to get off the bed. “Your Highness, what brings you here?”

“Enough, enough, stay where you are.”

The Third Prince waved his hand. He was never one for formalities, and even less so when visiting Xie Wuling. He lifted his robe and sat down heavily, his face dark, saying nothing.

Xie Wuling looked at him with surprise. “Who has upset our prince so? Tell your humble subordinate — I’ll go cut him down for you.”

The Third Prince shot him a glare and snorted. “Then you’d best cut yourself.”

Xie Wuling blinked, baffled. “Your subordinate has been convalescing in this courtyard all these days — I’ve nearly turned into a pampered maiden who doesn’t step past the threshold! I truly don’t know how I’ve offended Your Highness… I am dull of wit — please enlighten me.”

The Third Prince was never one for beating around the bush. Once the eunuchs had served tea and withdrawn, he relayed what had transpired in court that day.

By the end, he slammed his fist against the table, glaring at Xie Wuling with exasperation. “It was clearly you who first got involved in this case! You led men to rescue those abducted women, and even the idea of stirring public outrage to bring attention to the matter — that was your plan! But what happened? You had to go and leap into the river on a whim to save someone, delaying yourself in Weinan for three or four days. And in that time, that Pei Shouzhen returned to Chang’an, seized the opportunity, and took all the credit!

“Now look — Pei Shouzhen and that Consort Xian of his mother have gained both merit and fame, while you — you risked your life, saved people, and nearly died — yet gained nothing at all! You’ve handed your credit to someone else for free. Utterly foolish!”

So that was the cause of his anger.

Xie Wuling’s gaze flickered, his handsome face curving into its usual lazy smile. “Your Highness need not be so angry. It’s true that I was the first to get involved, but saving people is what I’m good at — as for investigation and gathering evidence, that’s beyond me. Pei Shouzhen has both family background and connections; that’s why he could capture Qiu Po and obtain the key evidence within five days.”

“I, on the other hand, am but a humble adjutant. In Chang’an, I have neither lineage nor allies. The only one I can rely on is you, Your Highness… If you had been in Chang’an those few days, I would have crawled back from Weinan if I had to, just to report everything truthfully to you.”

He paused for a moment, then looked at the prince meaningfully. “But tell me, Your Highness — if you had captured Qiu Po, would you have continued investigating?”

The Third Prince’s expression shifted slightly. He narrowed his eyes. “What are you implying?”

Xie Wuling arched a brow. “Do you truly believe that the one behind this case is Eldest Princess Jinhua?”

The Third Prince said nothing.

For he knew very well that such illicit dealings likely also involved the Sun family’s enterprises.

Just as Xie Wuling said — if the case had been in his hands, he would have likely ended it with Qiu Po’s arrest.

To dig deeper would have meant touching the Sun family’s interests — something that would do him no good.

Different positions determined different outcomes — Justice was secondary; profit came first.

After mulling this over, the Third Prince glanced back at Xie Wuling, his gaze now tinged with intrigue. His eyes drifted toward the military book by the bed, and he smirked. “Seems all that reading hasn’t gone to waste.”

“My wife once said,” Xie Wuling smiled, “reading cultivates wisdom, nourishes the spirit, broadens knowledge, and sharpens talent.”

“I listen to her — she’s never wrong.”

The Third Prince: “…”

There he goes again.

What was so special about that woman? Why did his eyes light up every time he mentioned her?

Unable to resist, the Third Prince scoffed, “Now that Pei Shouzhen’s been promoted to Chengzhi, my father even granted him the crimson robe and silver pouch. Give it a few years, and he’ll be the youngest Grand Chancellor in Liang. And your beloved wife, by virtue of her husband’s rise, will become the youngest titled lady in the realm — she’ll probably have long forgotten you, Xie Wuling.”

Sure enough, the moment Xie Wuling heard that Pei Xia had been promoted, the smile on his face faded.

An opponent this strong was truly not a good thing.

But he was not the sort to brood over himself; he quickly brightened, his eyes burning as he looked at the Third Prince. “As long as Your Highness ascends the throne, what does that Pei Shouzhen matter? Or do you lack that confidence?”

“Heh, you brat, now you’ve learned to use words to provoke me.”

“This is only because I place great hopes on Your Highness — if you succeed alone, your subordinate will rise with you and so will everyone around him.”

The Third Prince liked hearing that and couldn’t help applauding with a laugh: “Good, good — when that day comes, I will personally grant you and that Shen lady a marriage by imperial decree, so your wish will be fulfilled and husband and wife reunited.”

They sat idly for a while longer; the Third Prince’s bad mood from earlier had eased. Before leaving he patted Xie Wuling’s shoulder and instructed, “Heal well. When you recover, I have important tasks for you.”

Xie Wuling answered “Yes.” After the Third Prince left and the room fell quiet again, the smile on his face slowly disappeared.

Though he didn’t know exactly what trick Pei Shouzhen had pulled, the death of that mad Princess Jinhua was, in itself, a good thing.

As for those decent families’ children who had been trafficked, they received monetary compensation and the court had assigned people to continue the search — a satisfactory outcome.

What he did not know was how the true mastermind behind it would be dealt with.

Also — had he told Jiaojiao about any of this?

Thinking of Shen Yujiao, Xie Wuling recalled that day in the alley when, in front of Pei Shouzhen, she had chosen him again. Warmth surged in his chest.

As long as she had him in her heart, that made him happier than any title or promotion.

Judging by Emperor Zhaoning’s current taking of the alchemical pills, that old carcass probably wouldn’t hold out many more years —

He would wait until the day of his achievements and fame, and then righteously snatch Jiaojiao back.

He believed that as long as he lived, that day would come.

—

With Princess Jinhua’s death and the execution date for Qiu Po and the others set, the case was nearly settled.

On the day of execution the market entrance was packed with townspeople watching the spectacle.

Shen Yujiao did not go, but Ah Nian did.

When she returned she told Shen Yujiao, “There wasn’t much to see. Heads fall like cutting melons and chopping vegetables — satisfying for a moment, then you feel nothing afterward.”

Ah Nian differed from those trafficked women; she had been sold by relatives. Now that she’d returned to Chang’an, she didn’t want to go back under that black-hearted kin’s roof to swallow her anger.

Shen Yujiao had earlier promised in the carriage to give her a place to stay. After asking Ah Nian’s wishes, she arranged for Ah Nian to work as an apprentice in the Pei family’s rouge shop — board and lodging provided, plus a small monthly wage.

Ah Nian was overwhelmed with gratitude; she kowtowed three times to Shen Yujiao before leaving with Steward Zuo to begin a new life.

That night Pei Xia came to the rear courtyard to dine.

He had been busy with official business, going out early and returning late each day, and since Shen Yujiao and he slept in separate rooms they had not seen each other for several days despite living under one roof.

So when he arrived that night, the maids were all as happy as if it were New Year’s.

Knowing that he had just been promoted, Shen Yujiao had the kitchen warm a pot of wine to celebrate with him.

After the evening meal, Pei Xia held their little boy affectionately. Shen Yujiao sat at the bedside hesitated for a moment, and finally could not help but ask, “Did the Eldest Princess really take her own life?”

Pei Xia was not surprised she asked; leisurely he lifted his eyes: “She did not.”

Of course.

Shen Yujiao pressed her lips and said, “Before you wouldn’t tell me when I asked. Now the case is closed — may you speak?”

Pei Xia saw the eagerness for truth in her eyes, and remembered that Xie Wuling had said she cared about the matter. After a brief silence, he told her the case truthfully, including his dealings with Duke Ying.

Shen Yujiao felt no sympathy for Princess Jinhua’s “wrongful death.” Setting the case aside, that woman had still taken many innocent lives — she deserved her end.

What she found hard to believe was that Pei Xia had tangled himself with a man like Duke Ying.

Like the bright moon fallen into a ditch, stained all over with foul mud.

“I knew you wanted vengeance for me, but if Duke Ying is the ringleader, he should receive retribution. Now that the Eldest Princess has taken the blame while the true villain walks free — that’s unjust…”

Shen Yujiao frowned, thinking of her Shen family: they had taken the blame for Duke Ying and thus suffered that fate.

She hated Princess Jinhua, and she hated Duke Ying Sun Shang all the more.

“I knew you would react like this, which is why I did not speak plainly that day.”

Pei Xia deftly soothed the child in his arms to sleep, and with a serious face spoke of weighty matters: “I admit, this time I did use public means for private ends; I wished to see the Princess removed. But that does not mean I will let Sun Shang’s crimes go unpunished.”

“Yuniang, affairs of the court are not as you imagine. Not everyone who errs can be put to death. He who wins hearts wins the world; he who follows the emperor’s favor holds life and death and sets rewards and punishments.”

Pei Xia fixed his gaze on her; his dark eyes were like a bottomless snow-covered lake: “I won’t hide it from you — this case could never topple Duke Ying. So long as the emperor lives one day, Duke Ying will live one day… Though the Princess committed many evils, she is shrewd and never crosses the emperor’s bottom line. She knows very well that as long as she does not rebel or commit monstrous treason, killing a few commoners, enclosing some land, selling some offices — the emperor will not take her life.”

Pei Xia wanted her to pay with her life — and he wanted Duke Ying to pay with his life as well.

Just like in a game of chess, one must weigh priorities and timing; temporary losses did not matter, as long as the overall situation remained steady — eventually, every piece he desired to capture would fall neatly into his grasp.

“Yuniang is clever. You should understand what I’ve just said.”

“……”

Shen Yujiao did understand, yet still, there was an indescribable feeling in her heart.

She looked at the handsome man under the lamplight, clothed in white — still bearing the cold grace of an exiled immortal — yet somehow, he was not the same as before.

Or perhaps Pei Xia was still Pei Xia, only no longer the Pei Xia who lived in her heart.

She thought back to when they had first moved to Chang’an, and to the conversation they had back then.

At that time, he had not yet entered officialdom. She had feared he would be implicated in the Shen family’s corruption case and become a man wronged like Qu Yuan.

But Pei Xia had told her, “I am neither Qu Yuan nor the fisherman. I am Pei Shouzhen — a Pei Shouzhen who walks his own path.”

She had thought she understood then.

Looking back now, she realized she hadn’t.

Still, his ability to adapt to the times and to the court as effortlessly as a fish in water was, in its own way, a good thing.

As she was lost in thought, Pei Xia laid the sleeping Di Ge’er down by the couch and reached across the table to take her hand. “The princess has been executed, Shouan has only three years left to live. I give you my word — Duke Ying will one day receive the retribution he deserves. Yuniang, do you believe me?”

Shen Yujiao looked at the hand holding hers, and at the corners of his eyes, slightly red from wine — her heart suddenly panicked. “I believe you.”

She lowered her gaze and drew her hand back. “In matters like these, I’ve always believed in you.”

He was a man capable of overturning mountains and rivers.

But that only made her more anxious — for Xie Wuling’s future.

A struggle for the throne was not like sons of a landlord quarreling over inheritance. Choose the wrong master, stand on the wrong side — and it would be heads rolling and lives lost.

Her thoughts tangled; she wanted to plead with Pei Xia for Xie Wuling, yet she had only recently brought up the matter of separation. To beg him now — whether he would agree was uncertain, but if Xie Wuling ever found out, he’d surely explode with fury —

That man was as stubborn as a mule; he’d rather die than bow his head to Pei Xia.

Pei Xia saw her lowered lashes and long silence, and knew she had no wish to keep him tonight.

“It’s getting late.”

He stood, child in his arms, and looked at her. “I’ll take him to the next room. Rest early.”

Meeting his gentle gaze, Shen Yujiao was silent for a while before quietly replying, “Thank you.”

Pei Xia gave a faint, self-mocking smile. “So polite.”

Then he left with the child.

Shen Yujiao sat under the lamp, lost in thought. Not long after, Qiao Momo came hurrying in, worried. “What’s this now? You shared wine — how come you still didn’t keep your husband?”

Shen Yujiao’s mind was already in knots; hearing the old woman’s chatter only made her more restless.

She took two deep breaths before she could speak calmly. “Momo, I know you mean well. But I’m not a child anymore. Whatever lies between my husband and me — I’ll find a way to handle it… please, just let me be alone for a while.”

In all the years she had raised Shen Yujiao, this was the first time Qiao Momo had heard her speak this way.

Her expression changed several times, her white brows furrowing. “So now my lady finds this old woman bothersome, is that it?”

Shen Yujiao was silent for a few beats, then lifted her gaze. “Momo, I’m no longer a child… and I’m no longer that girl raised behind deep courtyard walls — delicate hands untouched by the sun, taught poetry and etiquette only to marry into another family and play the virtuous wife.”

“I can keep accounts, manage a household, embroider — and I can pull a cart for a hundred li, light a fire in the damp rain, tell which wild greens are edible and which herbs are useful. I can cook in a clay stove big as a cauldron, and I know how to milk a ewe without spilling it everywhere…”

Her dark eyes shone, every word sincere: “And I also know this — many things can’t be decided by following what others say. You must think them through yourself, understand them yourself. If you just drift along, letting others push you forward, how is that any different from being a mindless puppet? I know you care for me, but please — let me make my own choices. Even if I think wrong, even if I choose wrong — it will be my own cause and my own effect, and I’ll bear it willingly. But if I stray because I followed someone else’s words and end up ruined — that would be regret upon regret, hatred upon hatred.”

Hearing this, Qiao Momo’s expression grew complicated; she said nothing for a long while.

Just as Shen Yujiao began to worry she had spoken too harshly, the old woman took her hand, lifted it close to her clouded eyes to look, and two streaks of tears slid down her wrinkled cheeks. “This old servant didn’t know my lady had suffered so much out there…”

Her voice trembled, and Shen Yujiao’s heart ached.

In the past, whenever she’d spoken to her family about her flight and hardships, she’d always chosen the good parts, glossing over the bad.

After all, bringing up those sufferings would only make her loved ones grieve, and what would that change? What was the point?

“Momo, it’s all in the past,” Shen Yujiao said softly, giving her a small smile. “Just don’t hold my sharp words against me — that would be best.”

Qiao Momo sighed. “It’s my foolishness. I still kept seeing you as that innocent child. Since you wish to be alone, then quiet your heart and think things through — just don’t get stuck in your own thoughts, that’s all…”

As she spoke, something seemed to occur to her, and she tightened her grip on Shen Yujiao’s hand. Tears welled in her aged eyes. “No matter how hard the road was, all the bitterness has passed. Before long, the master and madam will be returning as well.”

Shen Yujiao’s gaze flickered faintly, and she sighed inwardly. Ah, Momo…

“I know,” she said softly. “You should go rest now.”

Having said all she could, Qiao Momo saluted and withdrew.

When she reached the outer room, she turned to look back once more. Under the lamplight sat a graceful, quiet beauty. A wave of melancholy rose in the old woman’s heart.

That tiny little girl from years ago had grown up into a woman—she no longer needed an old servant like her to help make decisions.

Once October passed, the weather turned cold. Thin autumn garments could no longer keep out the chill, and one had to change into padded jackets.

As for Shen Yujiao and Pei Xia, their relationship had reached a subtle balance—polite, yet not distant.

Except for the occasional banquet or engagement outside, the first thing Pei Xia did after finishing his duties each day was to come to the back courtyard.

He claimed it was to see the child, but once he had the baby in his arms, he would wander before Shen Yujiao, finding excuses to talk with her.

After dinner, if Shen Yujiao said nothing to invite him to stay, he would quietly return to his study for the night.

When evening came again the next day, he would appear as usual.

Qiao Momo wanted to persuade them one way or another, but dared not, so she held her tongue.

Shen Yujiao herself did not know how long this lukewarm stalemate between her and Pei Xia would last. But to open her mouth and ask him to stay—she knew very well, she hadn’t yet let go.

She still clung to a faint hope—what if? 

What if he were willing to relent?

She had promised Xie Wuling; she had to try once more, to hold on a bit longer.

As the first goose-feather snow of the season fell over Chang’an, the days slipped into December.

And the surface calm between husband and wife shattered with the safe arrival of the Shen family in the capital.