Song of the Bright Moon Chapter 109

That night, the moon was clear, the breeze gentle.

After bathing, Pei Xia first went next door to check on Di Ge’er.

The small child slept soundly, his round face flushed with health, and Pei Xia’s brow softened with a touch of fatherly warmth.

The child grew fast. In the blink of an eye, he was a year and a half old, walking and running, even chasing after him and Yuniang, calling “Daddy, Mommy.”

Pei Xia bent down, tucked the blanket around the child, then lifted the misty blue light gauze canopy and walked slowly back to the room.

Night was deep. Shen Yujiao managed the household frugally; only a few lamps were lit at night, just enough to provide light, two on each side.

As Pei Xia passed the eight-foot-tall sandalwood screen, he saw the slender figure seated at the dressing table.

She wore an ivory-colored undergarment, with a dark blue outer shirt casually draped over her shoulders. Her hair, as smooth as a waterfall, fell behind her, and her narrow waist was faintly visible through the strands.

Hearing movement by the screen, she turned and glanced at him, smiling slightly: “Have you checked on the child?”

In the dim candlelight, her smile was gentle, comforting.

Pei Xia nodded, stepping closer: “He’s sleeping soundly, even snoring softly.”

“He must have been worn out this afternoon, running around the courtyard with Ah Yu and Ah Jin.”

Shen Yujiao’s ivory comb was coated with fragrant oil as she slowly brushed her hair: “Tonight, since you returned late, before he went to sleep he asked about you: why hadn’t Daddy come back yet? Was he taken by monsters? I had to coax him for a long while before he finally slept, such a clingy child.”

“How would someone so small know about monsters?”

Pei Xia stood beside her, looking at their reflection in the bronze mirror. His large hand rested on her shoulder as he bent slightly, and in the mirror, their faces leaned close together.

Shen Yujiao replied: “Probably what Ah Yu told him. She’s curious at this age and always asks me, her sister-in-law, for stories before she sleeps.”

Little niece Ah Yu had already begun learning to read and recite poetry. Usually, Ah Jin and Di Ge’er would follow her around like two inseparable little tails.

“In another two years, it will be our turn to tell stories to the child.”

Pei Xia said casually, eyes still on their reflection.

In the golden-bronze mirror, the man had sharp brows and bright eyes, a straight nose and thin lips; the woman had soft brows and apricot eyes, skin like peach blossoms, a match made by heaven.

Shen Yujiao noticed Pei Xia’s lingering gaze in the mirror.

He had been staring too long, almost lost in it.

Since the palace upheaval, his thoughts had grown deeper. Though he remained calm and composed with others, privately with her he showed subtle, excessive possessiveness.

For example, now, taking the comb from her hands, he began brushing her hair and suggested: “Next holiday, let’s hire a painter to make a portrait of us.”

Shen Yujiao was startled: “You are skilled in painting, why seek another?”

In the past two years, he had painted many figures, all of them her.

Springtime viewing flowers, summer playing chess, autumn napping, winter admiring snow, every scene captured with exquisite detail, graceful and lively.

She had once suggested including Di Ge’er, but he refused, claiming he couldn’t paint children.

Shen Yujiao knew it was an excuse. Adults can be painted; how could a child not?

She didn’t press; if he wouldn’t paint him, she would. Not as skilled, but flipping through her own drawings brought a quiet joy.

“I don’t paint arbitrarily.”

Pei Xia brushed her hair: “But if we both appear in the painting, having someone else paint it will make it more obvious.”

A minor matter, Shen Yujiao didn’t mind: “As you wish.”

She glanced at the time: “It’s late.”

“One last strand.”

Holding a strand of her soft black hair in his long hand, Pei Xia brushed slowly, then spoke: “The emperor issued a pardon, sparing that man from death and exiling him instead.”

His eyes stayed on the mirror as he spoke.

As expected, he saw her eyelashes tremble slightly.

She lowered her eyes and whispered lightly: “Thank you.”

“You’re mistaken, Yuniang.”

Pei Xia held her hair: “We are husband and wife. No need to thank me for an outsider.”

Shen Yujiao paused briefly: “I won’t again.”

Then she asked: “Where will he be exiled?”

Pei Xia’s eyes flickered.

Regarding exile, he had intended to send Xie Wuling south, where he was born—Qianzhou, Lingnan, Qiongzhou—all suitable.

But Emperor Chunqing sent him to Yanbei.

Yanbei was harsh and cold, dry and frigid. Snow covered half the year; the rest was constant raids by foreign tribes.

Though Yan Wang defended the northern border, preventing large-scale attacks, minor skirmishes persisted, requiring occasional military action.

Exiled prisoners in Yanbei mostly did labor like repairing city walls, digging trenches, or maintaining weapons and armor. There was no pestilence like in southern lands, but the freezing cold and harsh work were punishing.

Pei Xia did not hide this from Shen Yujiao: “Yanzhou. He is not to return to Chang’an without an imperial decree.”

Shen Yujiao was silent.

She had many questions—was he safe in prison this past month? When exactly would he be exiled? Could she send him money or even a warm coat?

But she knew she could ask no more.

For a crime of treason, Pei Xia securing a spared life was already mercy beyond measure.

“Then what about Ping’an… can we perhaps take him into our household safely?” Shen Yujiao asked.

“You and I cannot give him a stable home. Xie Wuling cannot either. I have found a suitable family. The husband is infertile due to an injury while working, but he and his wife are devoted to each other and long to raise a child.”

Pei Xia’s voice was calm and measured. “I’ve met that couple before, both are honest, upright people. They took quite a liking to Di Ge’er when they saw him. I thought, since the child is still young and doesn’t remember much, we could let them take him and raise him.”

He paused for a moment. “Of course, if you’d rather bring him back and raise him in the household, that’s fine too.”

Thinking of the child, Shen Yujiao could only sigh inwardly, over and over again.

From the moment she first took the child into her arms, all she had wished for was to give him a stable, peaceful home, to let him grow up safely, just as his name implied.

Who could have expected so many troubles to follow, dragging the child through turmoil and displacement as well?

After a moment of thought, she asked Pei Xia for more details about that couple.

She learned that they both worked under the Pei family, and Pei Xia intended to arrange for them to move to Luoyang, to start afresh in a new place, raising the child there.

At last, Shen Yujiao nodded. “Then let’s do as you say.”

Pei Xia reassured her. “Don’t worry. I’ll send someone to check on the child every so often. And when you and I return to Luoyang, we can visit him ourselves.”

At the mention of returning to Luoyang, a faint melancholy stirred in Shen Yujiao’s heart.

Two years had passed. The old grievances with Madam Wang had long since settled with time and distance.

In the most recent family letter, the second master of the Pei household urged Pei Xia to return home this year, first to visit his widowed mother, Madam Wang, and second, to have Di Ge’er entered into the family genealogy.

Pei Xia intended to take the boy with him; as for whether his wife would go, that was left entirely to her will.

Shen Yujiao herself had yet to decide.

Her mother, Madam Li, still harbored resentment toward Madam Wang’s cold-heartedness and told her not to go.

Her aunt, Madam Cheng, had cooled off after a year and now felt that, as the principal wife of the Pei family, Shen Yujiao should return, both out of duty and propriety, to avoid giving others cause for gossip.

Shen Yujiao thought there were still two months until the New Year, so she decided to put it off and make up her mind later.

After settling where Ping’an would go, the couple put out the light and went to bed together.

The autumn-scented bed curtains fell, enclosing the carved canopy bed into a small, private world.

As the surroundings quieted, Shen Yujiao lay there, unable to sleep, her mind drifting to Madam Wang, to Ping’an, and… to Xie Wuling.

He had escaped a death sentence, but punishment still awaited. How was he faring in prison now?

His position stripped, his property confiscated with no family or allies in Chang’an, not even anyone to pull strings or speak on his behalf…

The more she thought about it, the more her chest ached, tinged with guilt and blame.

Blaming herself for kissing him that day they parted in Jinling; blaming Xie Wuling for his stubbornness, his reckless defiance, how could he have been so blind and unyielding?

Lost in tangled thoughts, Pei Xia turned over and drew her into his arms.

His arm wrapped firmly around her shoulders and waist, so tight that all her thoughts were forced to scatter, her focus pulled to the warm, solid body pressed against her.

Her face was buried against his chest. “Langjun… you’re holding me too tightly…”

Pei Xia’s voice was even. “It’s your heart that’s too restless.”

Shen Yujiao was speechless.

Before him, she was almost like a figure made of glass, transparent, every thought laid bare under his keen eyes.

Her lips moved twice before she managed to speak hoarsely. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.”

Pei Xia lowered his head, his chin brushing gently against her soft forehead. “There’s still time ahead of us, no need to rush.”

Shen Yujiao said nothing.

Until his lips trailed down, little by little, along the curve of her cheek.

Like the touch of a soft feather, brushing the corner of her eye, then, as if handling something precious, kissing her nose, her lips…

In that tenderness there was a quiet insistence, and before she realized it, her body felt as though it were sinking into a pool of warm water, melting completely.

His kiss was restrained, not too deep. Though his body burned hot, when he sensed the tremor of her eyelids, he stopped.

“Yuniang, look at me a little more.”

In the dim, shadowed canopy, Pei Xia took her hand and, through the thin layer of her undergarment, placed it over his heart, murmuring hoarsely, “Pei Shouzhen’s heart is in your hands now.”

“It’s no worse than anyone else’s, truly.”

Shen Yujiao’s palm pressed against the man’s chest, feeling the violent pounding of his heart.

Thud, thud, thud—its powerful rhythm pulsed through her palm and skin, echoing in her ears, making her flustered and wanting to pull her hand away.

Pei Xia’s gaze darkened; he kissed her again. “Yuniang.”

In all their past intimacies, he had long since learned every spot on her body that could stir her, knew exactly how to bring her pleasure.

Feather-like kisses fell once more—softly, unhurriedly—trailing downward from above, brushing past smooth curves and a slender waist, until at last he parted her skirt and pressed his lips there.

Shen Yujiao’s reason began to crumble; when she realized his lips were upon her, she tensed her legs. “No… you can’t…”

But her wrists were caught firmly in his grasp. He looked at her, his gaze hazy as if drunk, a mix of restraint and desire turning into a charm that made one’s heart tremble. “It’s fine. You’re beautiful.”

Beautiful? That wasn’t the point at all—

Shen Yujiao curled up, her cheeks burning hot.

Her mind called it absurd, yet under his lips and fingers, her body began to betray her reason.

Her consciousness blurred; she sank with him into that entanglement of spring’s passion.

When they neared the peak, he held her tightly by the waist, his breath scorching against her ear. “Yuniang, will you give me your heart?”

Shen Yujiao’s cheeks were flushed and damp, eyes shut, saying nothing.

But Pei Xia, uncharacteristically stubborn, bent to her ear again as if he must have an answer, and asked once more.

Shen Yujiao really couldn’t endure his relentless persistence anymore, and finally opened her eyes.

Through the faint candlelight that slipped in from the gap in the bed curtain, she saw the man staring straight at her.

That gaze was soul-stirring, within those deep, dark eyes burned an unhidden, scorching desire. “Yuniang…”

Shen Yujiao’s eyes flickered slightly. She didn’t know where the courage came from, but she raised her hand and wrapped her arms around Pei Xia’s neck.

Under his startled gaze, she turned over and pressed him down beneath her.

The next moment, she sealed his lips with hers.

The man’s body trembled briefly, but in the next instant, his large palm cupped the back of her head and deepened the kiss.

—

In early October, the leaves and grass began to fall, and the air already carried the chill of autumn.

Outside the pavilion by Ba Bridge, a group of prisoners bound for the northern frontier stood in two rows along the roadside, iron collars around their necks, shackles on their hands and feet.

Before departure, the guards would rest here for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

They called it a rest but it was really to give the prisoners’ families a chance to bid farewell. And for the guards, an opportunity to collect a few bribes. Two birds with one stone.

“My son, my son… you must take care of yourself in the northern lands.”

“Mother, forgive your unfilial son… I can no longer serve by your side.”

That was a mother sending off her son.

“Wuwu… my husband, if you go, what will I and the children do…”

“Ziniang, if… if you meet someone who treats you well, then… remarry.”

That was a wife sending off her husband.

“Brother Chen, once we part today, who knows when we’ll meet again. Take care.”

“Brother Zhou, you take care as well…”

Those were friends saying their goodbyes.

Outside the pavilion, men and women, young and old, families large and small, each prisoner had someone there to see them off.

Only Xie Wuling sat alone by the roots of an old tree beside the pavilion, a blade of grass between his lips, head drooping, eyes fixed on the chain between his ankles.

Silent. Solitary.

One of the guards noticed him and wandered over, asking with a grin, “What, no family or friends coming for you?”

Xie Wuling lifted his eyes, the corner of his lips quirking into a careless smile. “I’m not from Chang’an. No kin, no ties, isn’t that normal? Besides, sir, you know what crime I’ve committed. At this point, who would dare get involved with me?”

When the guard had collected the prisoners from the Ministry of Justice’s prison yesterday, even though they were all wearing tattered, filthy prison garb, his eyes had been immediately drawn to this strikingly composed young man.

His looks were elegant, like a crane standing among chickens, impossible not to notice.

The guard had wondered what kind of offense such a man could have committed to end up exiled to the north.

After asking, he learned that this man was implicated in Chang Wang’s treason case.

Tsk tsk—what a thing.

People are always drawn to beauty, regardless of gender. Seeing this handsome man sitting all alone now, the guard couldn’t help feeling a pang of pity.

“Come on into the pavilion, I’ll get you a cup of wine.”

Hearing that, Xie Wuling raised a brow and showed no hint of false modesty. “That’d be great. Much appreciated, brother.”

He stood and followed the guard into the pavilion.

Suddenly, from afar came the rapid clatter of approaching hooves.

He knew it was impossible, but still, Xie Wuling couldn’t help turning to look.

Just in case.

Just in case she… might come to see him one last time.

But hope disappointed him again.

It wasn’t her, only three riders approached: two grown men and one half-grown youth.

When the leading boy with the high ponytail swung down from his horse and strode quickly toward the pavilion, Xie Wuling narrowed his dark eyes slightly.

He looked… familiar?

When the boy came closer, Xie Wuling was startled. “Young Shizi?”

It was none other than Huo Yunchang, the young shizi of Dingnan Marquis’s household.

A year and a half had passed; the bad-tempered boy had grown taller, his skin fairer from life in the marquis’ manor, and his figure beginning to take on the lines of youth.

Seeing Xie Wuling now, Huo Yunchang almost didn’t recognize him.

The once-handsome face had changed so much that his brows knit tight. “What the h*ll happened to you—you look like a ghost!”

The words came out in that same bratty tone as before and somehow pulled them both back into the easy familiarity of the past.

“Your subordinate greets the young shizi.”

Xie Wuling bowed, then looked up again, eyes curved in a smile. “For a man guilty of treason, it’s a blessing just to still be alive.”

“Can’t believe you can still laugh,” Huo Yunchang huffed. “I told you long ago— Chang Wang wasn’t a good master. But you were too blinded to listen. And now look at you—”

The words “serves you right” reached his lips, but when his gaze caught on the chafed, bloody skin around Xie Wuling’s wrists and ankles, he swallowed them down.

“Forget it. There’s no point talking about that now.” Huo Yunchang sighed.

Looking at this young man, still smiling despite his chains, calm as ever, Huo Yunchang couldn’t help but feel a heaviness in his chest.

“Young Shizi has truly become more composed since we last met,” Xie Wuling said, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“Don’t think I don’t hear you mocking me,” the boy shot back.

“How could I dare mock you, my lord?”

Xie Wuling smiled faintly. “For someone as disgraced and despised as me, having you come all this way to send off an old subordinate, I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

Huo Yunchang glanced at him. Though his tone was light and teasing, his eyes shone with unmistakable sincerity. He sighed again.

This Xie Wuling…

What a pity…

If not for the delay of his grandfather’s reply, if the letter to Ningzhou hadn’t taken so long to arrive, he shouldn’t have come today at all.

“Come with me,” Huo Yunchang said.

Xie Wuling glanced at the escort guard beside him. “Brother, this is the shizi of Dingnan Marquis.”

Who in Chang’an didn’t know of the Marquis Huo family of Dingnan? And who didn’t know of the Huo family’s one and only treasured shizi, young Huo Shizi?

At once, the guards in the pavilion moved to bow.

Huo Yunchang had no patience for such formalities. With his hands clasped behind his back, he walked off to the side on his own.

The guards naturally dared not stop him, so they let Xie Wuling follow after.

When the two reached the back of the pavilion, Xie Wuling asked, “May I ask what instructions the young shizi has for me?”

Huo Yunchang pressed his lips together, then pulled a letter from his sleeve, muttering, “I don’t know if this will be of any use, but… take it.”

Xie Wuling received it, opened it, and skimmed through.

It was a letter of introduction addressed to Yan Wang, Sima Yi.

“My grandfather and Yan Wang were once acquainted. I had wanted to ask my grandfather to write a few words of recommendation for you, but Ningzhou is too far, there wasn’t enough time.”

The young man’s fair face flushed slightly in embarrassment. “I wrote this letter yesterday… I’ve never met Yan Wang, and he’s never met me either. I don’t know whether he’d be willing to give any regard to someone like me. But you can try, there’s our Huo family’s seal on it; it’s genuine, he’ll recognize it at a glance.”

That is, if Xie Wuling had the chance to meet Yan Wang at all.

Holding the letter, Xie Wuling’s brows moved faintly.

He knew that Huo Yunchang was still young, under General Huo’s watch in Ningzhou, under the old madam’s care in Chang’an and there wasn’t much he could do.

But this kindness was something he would remember for life.

“Xie Wuling thanks the young shizi.”

He took a step back, gathered his sleeves, and bowed properly.

The sudden formality made Huo Yunchang uncomfortable. He quickly waved a hand. “Alright, alright, stop that. You’re making my skin crawl.”

Xie Wuling straightened up, smiling. “Alright then—but I’ll remember your goodwill.”

Huo Yunchang wanted to say a few more words, but the time for a cup of tea had passed; the guards were already calling the prisoners to assemble.

Though he was the shizi of a marquisate, he couldn’t break the rules.

So he lowered his gaze, face turning solemn, and clasped his fists toward Xie Wuling. “Each of us must strive our own way but even across a thousand miles, the same wind will carry us both.”

“Uncle Xie, take care on your journey.”

The sudden elevation in address made Xie Wuling feel awkward all over, but perhaps because it would be the last time they ever met, he didn’t protest—only raised a hand in return salute. “Young shizi, you take care as well.”

The vast countryside stretched endlessly; reeds and millet on both sides of the road had all turned the withered yellow of autumn.

Beside the teahouse at Ba Bridge, an unremarkable carriage stood under a fiery red persimmon tree.

As the line of prisoners grew smaller and smaller in the distance, a slender, pale hand let fall the edge of a sapphire-blue curtain.

“Let’s go back.”

From here on, mountains and waters lay far between them—each must take care in their own way.