Song of the Bright Moon Chapter 102

That night, Pei Xia stayed in the inner room—with Shen Yujiao by his side.

But the couple did nothing. Even though the remnants of wine and months of longing burned through him like fire, he simply held his wife close, gently stroking her back as though comforting a child.

“Sleep,” he murmured. “I won’t touch you.”

Pei Xia knew that tonight was merely an opportunity—a chance given by the return of her parents, to mend what was broken between them.

And through that chance, he came to understand the bitterness and grievance his wife had been carrying all this time—and that she had once, truly, been moved by him.

She had loved him before she ever loved Xie Wuling.

That knowledge gave him a flicker of strength amidst his desolation. If he could make her fall for him once, why not again?

The next morning, after washing and dressing, Shen Yujiao and Pei Xia went together to the side courtyard to pay respects to her parents, Shen Hui and his wife.

Shen Guangting and Madam Xu were also there. When they asked about the children, they were told the little ones were still fast asleep.

So the adults sat down and shared a cheerful breakfast. When the children woke and were tidied up, everyone set out together for the Li residence.

The Li family was overjoyed to see that the entire Shen household had returned safely from Lingnan. Upon hearing the news, Eldest Madam Li even came rushing from the Marquis Yongwei’s manor, bringing her youngest daughter along.

The reunion was lively and full of laughter. At the noon banquet, four whole tables were laid out.

After the meal, the men gathered in the front courtyard to talk, while the women sat together in the back, chatting pleasantly.

Grandmother Luo’s spirits had greatly improved upon seeing her youngest daughter return safely. She held her close, unwilling to let go, affectionately calling her “my dearest girl,” just as she had when she was a child.

Madam Li, now a grandmother herself, was a little embarrassed being fussed over so, while Eldest Madam Li, seeing this, playfully leaned forward and teased, “Mother, do you only dote on little sister and not on me?”

Grandmother Luo laughed, gathering both her graying daughters into her arms. “I dote on both of you—you’re both flesh of my flesh. I love you just the same.”

The warm and tender scene made Shen Yujiao’s eyes curve with a smile.

Nothing was more joyful than family reunited.

Yet the joy did not last long. Before leaving the Li residence, Aunt Cheng took Madam Li aside.

When Madam Li came out again, her face showed nothing, but the look she gave Shen Yujiao was laden with unspoken gravity.

From that look, Shen Yujiao already guessed the reason.

And sure enough, after they returned home and finished dinner, Madam Li kept Shen Yujiao back in her room alone.

As soon as the door closed and the maid withdrew, Madam Li sat upright on the edge of the couch, her expression stern as she looked at Shen Yujiao. She got straight to the point: “I’ll ask you only once — have you given up that foolish idea of yours?”

Shen Yujiao had long known she couldn’t keep this matter hidden, but she hadn’t expected the confrontation to come so soon.

She pressed her lips together, unsure how to begin.

Madam Li looked at her daughter — those soft yet stubborn features — and was suddenly reminded of the girl’s ten-year-old self.

That time, she had tried to confiscate her daughter’s rulers, ink brushes, and those storybooks about wandering heroes. The girl had glared up at her with round, clear black eyes, fierce as a young leopard. “Why do you have to take them away, Mother? Grandfather and Grandmother never stopped me from reading them! Is it because they’re gone now, and no one loves me anymore, that you can bully me like this?”

Madam Li had been so furious that her chest hurt. She raised her hand, pretending she would strike her. “You little wretch! How dare you say something so heartless! I’m bullying you? I’m doing this for your own good! You’re not a child anymore — how can you waste your time on such useless things?”

But little Yujiao wouldn’t yield. She sulked for seven days over it, even running to the ancestral shrine of the late Prime Minister Shen and his wife, red-eyed, to complain pitifully: “Grandfather, Grandmother, since you’re gone, no one loves Jiaojiao anymore. Father and Mother both bully me — this I can’t do, that I can’t do — Jiaojiao’s heart is bitter… If it’s like this, why don’t you take me with you…”

Her words had scared Shen Hui and Madam Li so badly that their faces went pale. They bowed repeatedly before the spirit tablets: “She’s just a child — childish words, nothing more! Father, Mother, please don’t be offended.”

In the end, Madam Li compromised, allowing Yujiao to continue studying technical drawing with her father and uncle, so long as she finished her daily etiquette lessons first. Only then did mother and daughter make peace again.

Later, as her daughter grew up under Madam Qiao’s careful instruction, she blossomed into a graceful, composed young lady — elegant, proper, no longer a child needing supervision.

Never had Madam Li imagined that now, after marriage and motherhood — when she should have been at her most sensible — her daughter would lose her mind and become as foolish as a child again.

Madam Li clenched her hands, looking at her with bitter disappointment. “It seems your aunt was right — your head’s been filled with lard! You’ve completely lost your senses!”

“Mother, it’s not what you think…”

Though Shen Yujiao knew her mother, like her aunt, would hardly understand, she still explained everything — what had happened, and what she truly thought.

Just in case.

But there was no “just in case.”

Madam Li’s stance was even firmer than Madam Cheng’s — and as her birth mother, she had no need to hold back. She spoke whatever came to mind, not worrying about whether Yujiao would be hurt or offended. This was her child — it was only right that she be chastised.

Shen Yujiao sat quietly, enduring the storm of words. Though her mother had not raised a hand, it felt as though she’d been slapped again and again — her cheeks burned with pain.

Until even that pain dulled into numbness.

No one understood her. Not even her own family.

She should have known.

“If I had known you’d stray so far down the wrong path, harboring such wicked thoughts,” Madam Li said, voice trembling, “your father and I might as well have died in Lingnan. Better that than return to Chang’an and face Shouzhen with our shameless old faces.”

Madam Li sat beside her, tears brimming in her eyes, her voice choked. “Yuniang, a person must have a conscience. If you keep clinging to this delusion and insist on committing such an ungrateful, bridge-burning act, then I may as well not live anymore!”

Shen Yujiao’s expression changed drastically. “Mother!” she gasped.

“Don’t call me that.”

Madam Li’s tone was resolute. “If a son is not taught, it’s the father’s fault; if a daughter lacks virtue, it’s the mother’s. Your father and I have lived our lives upright and proper, yet somehow raised a daughter like you. What face do we have left to live in this world? Better to hang myself and be done with it! You’re grown now — your wings are hard, I can’t control you anymore. If you’re so determined to live for yourself, to make your own choices, then I won’t stop you. But let me say this: if you truly abandon your home and child to run off with that Xie boy, I don’t know what your father, brother, or sister-in-law will do — but I, for one, will drink poison and follow death into the Yellow Springs, so I never have to see it again.”

Her face had grown severe, eyes blazing as she stared at Shen Yujiao. “If you don’t believe me, just try it.”

Shen Yujiao’s expression went ashen.

She knew her mother’s temperament — fiery, unyielding, and true to her word.

Her mother, her aunt, her sister-in-law — all paragons of virtue by worldly standards. Only she, Shen Yujiao, was the misfit among them — the rebellious madwoman who could not stay within the bounds of propriety.

Perhaps seeing how pale her face had gone, Madam Li’s heart softened. She took her daughter’s hand, her voice rough and trembling with tears.

“Yuniang, don’t blame me for being harsh. What parent ever wishes harm upon their child? Tears always flow downward — I scold you like this only because I love you. If Shouzhen has wronged you somehow, if he’s treated you badly, and you wish to divorce him, then your father and I would stand firmly on your side. But tell me honestly — has Shouzhen ever mistreated you? Ever failed you? They say even a single day as husband and wife forges a hundred days of affection — how could you be so heartless toward him?”

Shen Yujiao was struck dumb.

She had no words to refute it. From beginning to end, Pei Xia had never wronged her.

Madam Li knew her daughter’s nature well — soft-hearted, never responsive to force — so she pressed gently, “That young Lord Xie may have done you a kindness. In that case, I’ll go to him myself tomorrow. I’ll kneel and knock my head to the floor a hundred times if I must — or serve him as a beast of burden, as a slave or maid, if that’s what it takes. As for the promise you made him, I’ll tell him I forced you to break it. If he must hate someone, let him hate me. If Heaven must punish someone, let it strike me — with thunder, with illness, however it sees fit — so long as he no longer disturbs your peaceful days. I’ll bear whatever retribution comes.”

“Mother, please don’t say things like that anymore.”

Shen Yujiao’s voice was hoarse. Her gaze toward Madam Li was like a pool of water — empty, desolate, drained of life. “You know full well that words like these are knives to my heart.”

Tears streamed down Madam Li’s face. “Do you think I want to say them? But when you insist on being foolish, what else can I do? If Heaven would just make you come to your senses, I’d gladly die tomorrow without regret. Yuniang, you’re a mother now yourself — you should understand this. For her child, a mother will do anything, even give her life.”

Watching the tears fall from her mother’s face like rain, Shen Yujiao’s heart clenched sharply in pain.

She did not doubt her mother’s words — because Madam Li truly was such a virtuous wife and loving mother.

But what she wanted to say was: “I don’t need you to live or die for my sake. I only hope you can stay safe, healthy, and content.”

Yet in her mother’s idea of “contentment,” obedience was required — compromise was required — she must go on living the “good life” they envisioned for her.

This private conversation between mother and daughter ended, in the end, with Shen Yujiao’s surrender.

She had the courage to face endless gossip, to endure whatever hardships might come in the future — but she did not have the courage to gamble with her mother’s life.

If her family were to suffer any tragedy because of her selfishness, then even if she did end up with Xie Wuling, happiness would forever elude her.

When she left Madam Li’s room, the wind and snow had just stopped. Night had fallen — bleak and dim.

High above the shadowed sky hung a lonely, pale moon.

Shen Yujiao stood under the eaves, gazing at it for a long, long time.

Then, through the darkness, a faint lantern appeared — Pei Xia came walking toward her, dressed in a dark-gray cloak. When he saw that slender, delicate figure standing under the corridor, he stopped in his tracks.

Across the courtyard bathed in silver light, their eyes met from afar.

After a pause, Pei Xia stepped closer. “Why are you standing out here in the cold wind?”

Shen Yujiao’s eyelashes fluttered twice. Then she buried the “Shen Yujiao” inside her heart once more. Looking up at him, she curved her lips into a faint smile. “I was looking at the moon.”

Pei Xia glanced at the sky. “It’s nearly New Year’s Eve — even the moon’s no longer full.”

Setting down the lantern, he undid his broad cloak and draped it over her shoulders. “Done talking with Mother?”

“Mm. We’re done.”

The cloak was thick and soft, still carrying his warmth. Wrapped snugly in it, her nose filled with that familiar, faint scent of sandalwood.

The fragrance made her eyes sting slightly. She pressed her fingers hard into her palm for a while before she could force back the tears, keeping her lips curved in a gentle smile. “You gave me your cloak — you’ll catch a chill.”

“I’m a man. A bit of wind won’t hurt me.”

Pei Xia tied the cloak’s sash for her, then said, “I’ll go pay my respects to Mother-in-law.”

But his sleeve was tugged. He turned his head and met Shen Yujiao’s slightly curved eyes. “No need. She’s already gone to rest.”

Pei Xia could tell at a glance that beneath her faint smile was restrained sorrow.

His lips moved slightly, but in the end, he said nothing.

Lowering his eyes, he lifted an arm and drew his wife close. “Let’s go back.”

Shen Yujiao gave a soft hum and followed him out.

That night, Pei Xia still stayed in the rear courtyard.

Between the bed curtains, he held her — and she did not resist.

He bent to kiss her — and she did not turn away.

When his lips brushed the hollow of her neck, she finally spoke softly: “Tomorrow, send Ping’an to him.”

Pei Xia’s kiss stilled.

He brushed his cheek against the warmth of her ear, his breathing uneven. After a moment, his voice came out rough and low: “The child only came home yesterday. Isn’t that too soon?”

With her eyes closed, Shen Yujiao thought of the day she had taken Ping’an with her to the Li residence.

Both the Shen and Li families, upon learning of the child’s origin, had only sighed, their gazes full of pity and compassion.

Just as Xie Wuling had said — the child was still young, too young to understand those looks.

But when he grew older, raised under such gazes, how could he not become sensitive and suspicious?

After all, what person of dignity could grow up under constant pity? And in this household, there was already Di Ge’er, a boy of similar age — the comparison between them would only make the difference clearer.

“While he’s still unfamiliar, it’s best to send him away sooner. If we keep him too long, I’m afraid I won’t be able to part with him — and he won’t be able to adapt,” Shen Yujiao said quietly.

Inside the curtain, silence lingered for two breaths before Pei Xia finally replied, “Then as you wish. I’ll take him there myself tomorrow.”

After a pause, he asked, “Do you want to come with me?”

Shen Yujiao shook her head. “No. Just explain things to him clearly — don’t argue, and don’t fight.”

Hearing that, Pei Xia knew her heart had finally gone quiet — even if not by choice.

He bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Don’t worry. I won’t quarrel with him again.”

After all, Xie Wuling had lost — once more.

—

The next day, Pei Xia personally brought Ping’an, along with the nursemaid and old servant who had cared for him, to the Third Prince’s residence.

But he was told that Xie Wuling had been sent away on an errand and was not in Chang’an.

With no other choice, Pei Xia brought the child back again.

When Shen Yujiao learned what had happened, she could only sigh and let Ping’an stay in the manor for the time being.

Soon after, New Year’s Eve arrived. The whole family gathered for the celebration, warm and harmonious.

Seeing that Shen Yujiao and Pei Xia seemed closer than before, Madam Li finally felt a quiet sense of relief — it appeared her daughter had come to her senses, after all.

The New Year was always busy. For the three days leading up to it, there were endless visits and greetings to relatives. On the fourth day, the Li family moved into their new residence.

Not until the tenth day did Shen Yujiao finally find herself a little leisure. Seeing that Ping’an was still in the manor, she couldn’t help but wonder — what on earth had Xie Wuling been sent to do, that he would be gone from Chang’an for the entire New Year?

Before she could think more on it, her sister-in-law, Madam Xu, came looking for her, inviting her to go to Dacien Temple for the temple fair, to pray for a peace amulet for the family.

Shen Yujiao had nothing to do at home, so she went along with Xu.

Dacien Temple was always crowded, and today, with the temple fair in full swing, people thronged like tides; carriages and horses filled the streets.

Fortunately, the two martial maids accompanying them were tall and sturdy — like two moving screens — shielding Shen Yujiao and Madam Xu from the press of the crowd.

Madam Xu praised with a smile, “Brother-in-law really is thoughtful, arranging things for you so carefully.”

Shen Yujiao said, “If Sister-in-law likes them, I’ll send one to you.”

Madam Xu quickly shook her head. “These two maids were personally found for you by your brother-in-law. How could I take what belongs to another?”

As they talked, they arrived at the Guanyin Hall. Composing their thoughts, they began to pray and make their wishes.

Shen Yujiao did not ask for much — only three wishes in total:

First, for her parents’ health and long life, free from worry. 

Second, for Pei Xia and Di Ge’er to be safe and well, with everything going smoothly.

Third, for Xie Wuling to be free of illness and misfortune, to let go of his obsessions, and to find another worthy wife.

After finishing her prayers, she and Madam Xu went to request their peace amulets.

There were many supplicants that day, and a long line still ahead of them. Shen Yujiao had never liked such crowded places, so she suggested to Madam Xu, “Let the maids wait in line. We can find a meditation room and play a game of chess.”

But Madam Xu replied, “Oh no, that won’t do. You must ask for the amulet yourself — sincerity moves the Bodhisattva. The more sincere your heart, the greater the blessing. If the maid’s heart isn’t sincere, wouldn’t it all be for nothing?”

Shen Yujiao was momentarily speechless.

Knowing that Shen Yujiao disliked crowds, Madam Xu relented, saying, “Then go wait outside. I’ll get yours for you. After all, my heart is sincere, and I’ll certainly wish you well.”

At that, Shen Yujiao smiled. “I knew Sister-in-law loves me best.”

“You,” Madam Xu chuckled, “still as lazy as ever.”

So Shen Yujiao, with the two martial maids in tow, left the crowded hall and started toward the meditation rooms at the back — when suddenly, a lazy, clear voice came from the side:

“Fortune-telling, fortune-telling! Miraculous divination! One tael per reading — if it’s not accurate, it’s free!”

Shen Yujiao stopped abruptly and slowly lifted her eyes.

Beneath a large locust tree covered in red prayer ribbons sat a shabby little stall. Behind it was a middle-aged man in a gray Daoist robe, long beard, and a conspicuous black mole under one eye.

She could hardly believe her own eyes.

Was it her imagination? Otherwise, why did this fortune-teller look so much like… Xie Wuling?

The man under the tree noticed her too. His eyes lit up instantly, and he raised a feather fan, waving it toward her. “Hey there, madam! I can tell by your broad forehead and square chin that good fortune is coming your way! Come, let this poor Daoist give you a reading — I won’t even charge you!”

At that, the maid to her left snorted. “How absurd these wandering tricksters have become! Our lady’s wearing a veil — how can he even see her forehead and chin?”

The other maid looked equally wary. “Just now he said it cost one tael per reading, and now he says it’s free? Clearly a scam. Madam, don’t answer him — he’s trying to trick you.”

But the man was still waving his fan enthusiastically. “Don’t miss your chance, madam! This poor Daoist deceives neither old nor young — I guarantee a lucky reading!”

Shen Yujiao: “……”

Beneath her wide sleeves, her slender fingers tightened. She knew she shouldn’t respond — but seeing him made up like this, she couldn’t decide whether to be angry or amused.

Taking a deep breath, she finally gave in to temptation and walked toward the fortune-telling stall.

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