Song of the Bright Moon Chapter 110

Time flew by like a white colt through a crack, and in the blink of an eye, three years had passed since the new emperor ascended the throne.

In these three years, Emperor Chunqing had devoted himself to governance, diligent and tireless, continuing both the daily court lectures and imperial study sessions. He was open to counsel, encouraging his ministers to speak freely.

Under the advice of Chancellor Pei Xia, he swept away corruption and rooted out decay. In his second year, he eliminated Duke Ying’s faction, confiscating the vast wealth of the Sun family, and overturned many unjust cases left from Emperor Zhaoning’s reign.

For a time, the imperial treasury overflowed, and the court seemed renewed.

The people praised Emperor Chunqing and Chancellor Pei as a pair like Duke Huan of Qi and Guan Zhong—a wise ruler and virtuous minister destined to bring lasting peace. Many even composed tales and verses celebrating their legendary partnership.

Yet, on one quiet summer afternoon, the ruler and minister so lauded by the world erupted into a fierce quarrel.

“I’ve already cleared your father-in-law’s name and restored his office. I’ve ennobled your wife as a first-rank titled lady, granted her brocade robes and jeweled coronet, wealth and honor. Is that not enough to atone for what was done to Shouan back then? Why must you be so relentless, why insist on taking her life? She’s long been married off to Nanzhao, hasn’t been in Chang’an for years, and she poses no threat to you or your wife. And now she’s a mother, can’t you at least spare her for the sake of that innocent child?”

On the dragon throne, Emperor Chunqing’s brows were deeply furrowed, his face flushed red, whether from the oppressive May heat or his own anger, even he could not tell.

That very morning, he had received joyful news from Nanzhao: Shouan had safely given birth to a son at the start of the year, making him an uncle. His heart had been filled with delight—

—but when he went to the Cining Palace, Empress Dowager Yang said, “The three years are almost up. It’s time to send someone to take Shouan’s life.”

The emperor’s smile froze instantly. He looked at her in disbelief.

His sister, his full-blood sister, had just borne a child, and his mother was already talking of killing her?

Empress Dowager Yang knew her son’s temperament, kind by nature. And she knew, too, how close he and Shouan had been growing up, brother and sister from the same parents.

Perhaps years ago, Emperor Chunqing’s rage toward Shouan’s deeds had indeed burned fierce and bitter.

But time changes many things—

Including hatred. Including the human heart.

The fury of those days had long since faded, leaving behind only tender memories of sibling affection.

After all, both Empress Dowager Yang and Emperor Chunqing had once truly loved that daughter and sister.

“This was a promise I made to Pei Shouzhen.”

Empress Dowager Yang sat poised on her couch, three years as empress dowager had only deepened her majesty, even as her manner had grown calmer. “That year, when Jinhua died from poison, she spent her dying breath sowing discord. So I promised Pei Shouzhen that I would answer him with Shouan’s life. These past years, he has served you with utmost loyalty, faultless in every way. Now… it is time we fulfill that promise.”

Emperor Chunqing sat frozen in place, shock rippling through his heart.

How could Royal Mother have spoken so lightly, so easily of casting away Shouan’s life?

His face turned strained. “Royal Mother, you and Shouzhen made such an agreement, why did you never tell your son?”

“You’ve always been soft-hearted and share deep affection with Shouan. If I told you, you would never have borne it.”

Empress Dowager Yang glanced at him. “Then let me be the villain. After all, she came from my own womb. I gave her life, now I take it back. Even if she resents me, hates me, I will accept it.”

“Royal Mother,” Emperor Chunqing said, voice tight, “she is your own daughter.”

Empress Dowager Yang’s eyes flickered. The red-jade beads in her palm turned twice before she spoke, voice low: “Do you think my heart does not ache? She is the child I carried ten months with hardship and pain, flesh of my flesh. To give her up now, believe me, I suffer even more than you do.”

“But what choice is there? Who told her to be so useless? She could have lived in peace and comfort, yet she chose to do evil! I birthed her, raised her, am I to guard her all my life?”

At the thought of Shouan, a sharp pain struck the Empress Dowager’s chest. Her feelings were tangled beyond measure.

She could not wholly hate, nor wholly love. Perhaps the deeper the love, the sharper the pain of hate.

Why must she have been so foolish? Why must she court her own ruin? Why did she let that venomous woman, Jinhua, ensnare her? As a princess of the royal blood, she could have lived a life that outshone thousands of women under heaven—so why destroy herself?

She could not understand it. Night after night, she still could not understand.

At her most furious moments, she had even wanted to dig Jinhua up from her grave and grind her bones to dust.

Yet the Empress Dowager also knew—if Shouan’s heart had been truly pure, then no matter what Jinhua said, she could never have tempted her into evil.

Good and evil both come from within oneself. No one else can be blamed.

“In the end, I have already given my word to Pei Shouzhen, an imperial promise cannot be taken back.” The Empress Dowager shut her eyes heavily.

“Shouzhen is not an unreasonable man,” said the Emperor. “And it’s been so long now, perhaps his anger has cooled.”

Emperor Chunqing rose to his feet. “Your son will go speak with Shouzhen. If he is willing to spare Shouan’s life, I can grant him further compensation.”

Watching her son’s retreating figure, the Empress Dowager parted her lips, but said nothing.

The old Momo beside her murmured, “Your Majesty, let His Majesty try. What if he truly persuades him?”

The Empress Dowager gave a bitter smile. “Do you think everyone’s heart is as soft as Jing’er’s? That Pei Shouzhen, he may look refined and gentle, but once upon a time, he left his widowed mother alone in Luoyang without a second thought. How could he show mercy to Shouan, who bears no kinship to him and even schemed to kill his wife and child? If he were a man greedy for wealth or lust, Jing’er might tempt him with gain, and perhaps it could work. But that man…”

All these years, Pei Xia and his wife had been known throughout Chang’an as a devoted couple.

Whenever he was not attending court, the two were inseparable—singing in harmony, walking side by side. Their affection was so deep it made others envy them.

The Empress Dowager had seen enough to know: Pei Shouzhen was not a man without desires, only that all his desires were bound to his wife.

“Forget it,” she sighed softly. “Let him try, then.”

She held little hope, yet still clung to a sliver of it.

If Pei Shouzhen could be persuaded, her daughter’s life might yet be spared.

As a mother, how could she not wish her daughter to live especially when Shouan had only just become a mother herself?

—

“Shouzhen, you too have children. You must understand how pitiful it is for a child to lose his mother,” the Emperor said earnestly inside Zichen Hall.

For a sovereign to lower himself like this, to coax, to plead with a minister, marked him as a most benevolent ruler, unlike any before him.

But the young high official in the crimson-and-gold robe only regarded him coolly. His handsome face remained expressionless, his tone like frost:

“Your Majesty’s words are precisely what this subject wishes to ask. Did Princess Shouan not know how pitiful it is for a child to lose his mother?”

“As a woman herself, she should have understood how perilous childbirth is yet she chose that very moment to poison my wife.”

“If not for my wife’s great fortune, she would have died upon the birthing bed, her soul scattered to the heavens. I would have become a widower, and my infant son an orphan without a mother. Now Your Majesty pleads for me to pardon Princess Shouan but at the time, who pleaded with her to refrain from committing such a cruel and vicious deed?”

Each word struck firm and ringing. His gaze, steady and calm, met the Emperor’s without fear or submission.

Emperor Chunqing was speechless for a moment.

In reason, he truly had no ground to stand on.

But… he was the Emperor, and Pei Shouzhen was his subject!

There was a hierarchy between ruler and minister, between high and low; why could Pei Shouzhen not simply obey him?

Never had an emperor felt so stifled.

When his royal father sat on this very dragon throne, what minister had ever dared speak to him like this?

Even Grand Chancellor Shen Wenzheng, his royal father’s old teacher—when he defied the throne, his hat was stripped and he was driven from court.

And back then, Pei Shouzhen himself had never dared be so bold.

It must be that he, the current Emperor, had been too soft-hearted.

He had favored Pei Shouzhen, trusted him deeply, relied on him completely for three years and now that indulgence had bred insolence.

As these thoughts churned, his face darkened. For the first time in six years of acquaintance, Emperor Chunqing looked at Pei Xia with open displeasure and spoke harshly: “What if I insist on sparing Shouan’s life?”

As soon as the words fell, the golden hall fell silent—so silent one could hear a pin drop.

That silence made Emperor Chunqing’s heart suddenly tremble with unease, even a twinge of regret.

But he was the Emperor now. Even if he regretted his words, he could not show weakness before a subject. He forced down a breath and kept his face stern.

The ruler and his minister stood facing each other across the hall, once harmonious, now locked in a confrontation sharp as drawn blades, the air thick with tension.

After a long pause, Pei Xia lowered his head. “Your Majesty is the ruler of all under heaven. The lives of the people rest in your hands. If Your Majesty truly intends to break your word, then this subject has no means to stop you. However, as I told the Empress Dowager before, should this happen, I can no longer serve Your Majesty.”

He gathered his sleeves and bowed deeply. “This subject’s talents are shallow and unworthy of great responsibility. I hereby petition to resign my post, to return to Wenxi and withdraw to the mountains, spending the rest of my days in seclusion. Now that the realm is at peace and the court abounds with capable men, Your Majesty may easily find another to fill the position of Chancellor. I beg that Your Majesty grant this request.”

Emperor Chunqing’s expression changed instantly. He pushed himself up from the table, eyes fixed on the man below. “You—are you threatening Zhen?”

Pei Xia bowed lower. “This subject would not dare.”

“Would not dare? If this isn’t a threat, then what is it?”

The Emperor ground his teeth, unable to sit still, unable even to stand still. At last, he descended the steps and came to stand before Pei Xia.

“Shouzhen, must you truly oppose Zhen over something like this? Have I ever wronged you all these years? Since ascending the throne, have I ever disregarded your counsel? You and I have ruled in unity—our harmony praised by the people. Have you forgotten the vow you made to Me back in Jinling?”

“If Your Highness will show grace to this servant, I, Pei Xia, swear to follow Your Highness all my life, to devote every ounce of my knowledge and strength, my blood and heart, to aid Your Highness in ascending the throne and securing the empire for generations!”

“Every word you said that day, I remember them clearly, vividly. I know your ambition, I trusted you, I empowered you. So why must you cling so tightly to this trivial matter? For the sake of such a thing, would you truly wound the bond between us as ruler and minister, is it worth it?”

The Emperor looked at him with genuine feeling.

Seeing Pei Xia remain silent, he instinctively reached out, as he had so many times in the past, intending to grasp his hand.

Pei Xia stepped aside.

“Your Majesty says this is a trivial matter.”

He lifted his eyes. In their dark depths gleamed a calm so sharp it could cut. “Forgive this subject’s dullness but by ‘trivial matter,’ does Your Majesty mean that Princess Shouan’s life is a small thing… or that my wife’s near death is?”

“I beg Your Majesty to enlighten me.”

The Emperor froze, his hand suspended midair.

After a moment, he slowly withdrew it, his gaze growing cold. “Shouzhen, do you truly mean to force Zhen?”

Pei Xia met his eyes. “It was Your Majesty who broke your word first.”

At that, rage surged in Emperor Chunqing’s chest. He ground his teeth, voice trembling with fury. “I am your sovereign!”

Pei Xia replied evenly, “Then a sovereign should honor his word as gold.”

“So you mean to say I am unfit to be Emperor?”

The Emperor’s voice dropped low. And suddenly, he recalled those years past, when he had fought to pacify Huainan. How many times had he tried to recruit Pei Xia yet the man had never readily agreed.

Even then, he had sensed that this proud scholar from Hedong perhaps did not truly look up to him as master.

Though in the end, Pei Xia had chosen to follow him.

For the sake of a woman.

And now, again for that same woman, he would abandon him.

“Pei Shouzhen,” the Emperor’s eyes burned red with anger, his voice shaking, “in your heart, did you ever truly see Zhen as your ruler?”

His gaze bore into the face of the man he had always trusted and valued most. “If you saw Zhen as your sovereign, then you should obey Zhen—follow Zhen’s will.”

Pei Xia fell silent.

He looked calmly at the young Emperor before him—angry, unwilling, desperate to assert his imperial authority.

For a moment, his mind drifted back to that night in Jinling.

The young prince had come to him, face flushed, eyes bright, gripping his hand.

“Shouzhen, my good Shouzhen,” he had said. “You and I shall rule the world together—an enlightened monarch and a virtuous minister, our names shining through the ages. I will never fail you.”

But power corrupts the heart.

Once seated upon that supreme throne, holding dominion over all beneath heaven, how could one endure being defied?

Since ancient times, emperors have lived by this truth: those who follow me shall prosper, those who oppose me shall perish.

Emperor Chunqing was no exception.

Pei Xia had long foreseen that this day would come.

Yet he had still harbored a faint hope, for the kind and gentle prince he once served.

The conversation between ruler and minister ended in cold silence.

By the time Pei Xia returned to the Pei residence in Yongning Ward, the sun had already set.

The warm golden afterglow fell over the pomegranate blossoms in the courtyard; the air still carried a trace of the day’s heat.

He changed into a moon-white casual robe in his study, then went to the rear courtyard.

Lifting the curtain, he saw his wife, her dark hair coiled loosely, sitting by the couch, helping their little son build a small, delicate house from bamboo sticks.

Seeing his father return, the four-year-old boy’s face lit up. “Father, you’re home!”

Shen Yujiao also lifted her gaze, smiling softly. “Langjun has returned.”

Three years had passed. Her features had grown even lovelier, gone was the girlish innocence, replaced by the gentle allure of a young matron.

At twenty-three, she was in the full bloom of her womanhood.

Looking at his beloved wife and child, Pei Xia felt that all the turmoil and frustration of the outside world had been cleansed and soothed within this courtyard.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I’m home.”

His brow gradually relaxed as he walked to the couch, scooped up his son, and covered him with affectionate kisses before asking what he had done today, how many characters he had practiced, and how many verses he had recited.

Di Ge’er inherited his father’s cleverness and sharp mind. By three, he could recite the Thousand Character Classic, and by four, he already knew a hundred poems by heart.

So bright and clever, he was the very apple of everyone’s eye. His grandmother, Madam Wang, and his maternal grandparents, Shen Hui and Madam Li, were endlessly delighted with him. Whenever they saw him, they couldn’t help but hold him close, kissing and cuddling him, calling him over and over again, “my precious darling, my little sweetheart.”

Shen Yujiao had never seen Madam Wang act like that herself; she only heard about it from the third Madam Pei’s letter to Pei Yi, which Pei Yi later shared with her.

Although Shen Yujiao had gone back to Luoyang once two years ago, she had deliberately avoided meeting her mother-in-law during that visit, even though they stayed in the same household.

So when she heard Pei Yi describe it, Shen Yujiao tried and failed to picture the proud, haughty Madam Wang behaving that way, to imagine her saying such tender things, making such faces.

Her curiosity got the better of her, and one night she asked Pei Xia whether it was true.

Pei Xia said, “It’s true.”

Shen Yujiao was astonished. After a moment, she asked again, “Then when you were little, did she call you that too?”

Pei Xia replied, “No. After Father passed, Mother was very strict with me.”

Madam Wang’s only source of hope and purpose had been her son, Pei Shouzhen.

She wanted him to succeed, to make something of himself, only then could her decision to remain a widow in Wenxi feel meaningful.

Pei Xia rarely spoke of his childhood, but Shen Yujiao often thought back to when they first married, his cold, stiff manner and privately guessed that his early years must not have been happy ones.

Then, thinking of Madam Wang’s affection for Di Ge’er, she felt it must be just as her sister-in-law Madam Xu had said, that kind of fondness unique to grandparents.

The elderly always dote on their grandchildren.

Just as her own grandfather, Chancellor Shen, and her grandmother had once lavished endless affection on her.

Her thoughts returned to the present, Pei Xia had finished reviewing Di Ge’er’s lessons for the day.

As her husband set the boy down from his lap, the maid Bai Ping stepped forward tactfully and said with a smile, “Young Master, I think I hear crickets outside. Shall I take you out to see?”

Clever as he was, he was still a child. At the mention of crickets, his eyes lit up with excitement.

Those dark, lively eyes turned toward his parents expectantly. “Father, Mother…”

The soft little voice carried a trace of endearing pleading.

He hadn’t quite grown out of his babyish roundness, and his small face resembled his mother’s all the more for it.

Watching his son act so sweetly, Pei Xia suddenly thought of that little girl who used to swing in the Shen family’s courtyard all those years ago.

If Di Ge’er had been a girl instead…

“Go on,” Pei Xia said. “Just don’t come back covered in mud.”

Di Ge’er beamed. “Yes, Father!” Then he lifted his chubby hand and waved to Shen Yujiao. “Mother, I’m going out! Don’t forget to call me for dinner!”

Shen Yujiao laughed. “All right, you little glutton.”

After Bai Ping and the boy left, Pei Xia turned to his wife. “You must have looked just like that when you were little.”

Shen Yujiao started to deny it, but seeing the teasing glint in his eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to contradict him.

“More or less,” she said. “I can’t really remember.”

Pei Xia smiled but didn’t answer.

Then his expression grew still, the easy warmth fading from his features. Shen Yujiao noticed the change and asked in puzzlement, “What’s wrong?”

Pei Xia’s gaze shifted slightly; he reached out and took her hand, enclosing it tightly in his palm.

“Yuniang,” he said softly.

He looked straight into her eyes, his expression solemn yet calm. “Today, I tendered my resignation to His Majesty.”