Song of the Bright Moon Chapter 15

On a midsummer afternoon, the farmhouse courtyard was especially quiet, broken only by the occasional chirping of cicadas and the distant bark of dogs.

Clear sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting mottled shadows that made the vines climbing the fences seem even greener and fresher, lending vitality to the humble yet orderly courtyard.

At the elmwood square table in the main room, freshly washed Shen Yujiao gazed at the large basin of steaming chicken soup. Though her face remained calm, she could not stop her mouth from watering.

Meat, rich, fragrant meat.

Fresh from the pot, still sending up hot steam. The steam itself seemed almost alive, drilling into her nose, making her swallow again and again.

She could no longer remember how long it had been since she last ate meat. The last time felt as distant as another lifetime.

If she could just have one sip of soup now, one bite of meat… she could hardly imagine how happy that would be.

“Why are you sitting there dazed, not picking up your chopsticks?”

A clear, unrestrained voice came from outside. Shen Yujiao looked up to see the tall man striding in, one hand holding a plate of stir-fried greens, the other a tray of white flour buns. “I put a bit of ginseng root in the chicken soup. Old Li says it nourishes the blood. You have to drink it hot for it to work.”

“Big master.”

Shen Yujiao quickly rose, her delicate hands clasped awkwardly in front of her. “Please, you sit first. Once you’ve eaten your fill, grant me a bit and that will be enough.”

Xie Wuling set the dishes down, frowning at her. “What kind of talk is that? I didn’t bring you back here to make you my servant.”

Shen Yujiao pressed her lips together, unmoving.

“So you want me to invite you to sit?” Xie Wuling asked.

Shen Yujiao: “…”

“Fine, then I’ll invite you to sit!”

He made as if to rise. Shen Yujiao, afraid he really would act, hurried to say, “I’ll sit, I’ll sit.”

“That’s better.”

Satisfied, Xie Wuling said no more. But even seated, she still looked stiff and ill at ease. His thin lips moved as if to speak, but in the end he held his tongue.

He picked up the ladle, scooped a brimming bowl of chicken soup, and set it before her. “Eat. If it’s too salty or too bland, say so.”

In the large blue-and-white bowl of fragrant soup before her, both plump chicken legs were floating. Shen Yujiao’s eyes flickered with surprise, and she couldn’t help glancing sideways at the man.

Just then, Xie Wuling happened to be looking at her too.

Their eyes met. Before she could look away, he spoke first: “Still not moving your chopsticks. Don’t you like chicken soup?”

Shen Yujiao shook her head, pushing the big bowl toward him. “Both drumsticks are in my bowl…”

“So what?” Xie Wuling asked.

“Big master should eat the drumsticks.” Shen Yujiao’s voice was soft, cautious. “I’ll just have the soup and steamed buns.”

She truly didn’t know how to deal with this man.

They had known each other for less than half a day. She didn’t even know his full name, and yet she had already been brought to his home.

And this man, say he was bad, yet he gave her medicine, boiled her soup, saw to her child. Say he was not bad, yet for two dusty cakes, he insisted she repay him with her body.

Shen Yujiao truly dared not take more advantage of him, lest the debt grow deeper and deeper, until one day she could no longer explain it away.

In any case, she could never marry him.

“I scooped it for you, so eat. Don’t dawdle.”

Xie Wuling pushed the big porcelain bowl back toward her, then fished out two chicken wings for himself, gnawed into them with a crunch. “Old Li said you suddenly fainted because of a deficiency of qi and blood. Add to that hunger and cold along the road, exhaustion on top of exhaustion, and you…”

The words caught in his throat. With a sharp crack he bit through the chicken bone, sounding impatient. “Anyway, this chicken soup was stewed for you. If you won’t drink it, you’re looking down on me!”

Shen Yujiao choked.

She only thought it improper, as an outsider, to take both drumsticks for herself, how had it turned into her despising him?

But seeing the man’s expression brooking no argument, she didn’t protest further, only lowered her gaze and murmured, “Then… thank you, big master.”

“Don’t keep calling me big master. Grates on the ear.”

Xie Wuling picked up a steaming wheat bun, bit off a huge mouthful, then looked at the little woman sipping soup with such delicate elegance it was a pleasure to watch. “My name’s Xie Wuling. Xie as in ‘thank heaven,’ Wu as in ‘lawless,’ and Ling as in ‘mausoleum.’”

Seeing her thoughtful look, he asked, “You know your characters, don’t you?”

Shen Yujiao nodded instinctively. Then, remembering her role as a farmer’s wife, she quickly shook her head. “N-not many.”

Xie Wuling caught every bit of that clumsy cover-up, but didn’t expose her. He only asked, “And what’s your name?”

“Ma Cuilan.”

“Ma Cuilan?”

“…Mm.”

“How old are you? Where’s your native place? When did you marry? Is it true all your family are gone?”

The string of questions made Shen Yujiao’s heart falter. She thought of pretending mute, but the heat in his gaze, blazing straight on her face like the noonday sun, as if to burn two holes in her skin, forced her to speak.

With no choice, she stammered out a half-truth: “I… I am seventeen this year, from Dongyang Township, Taiyuan County, in Heluo Prefecture. I married last year. The flood came suddenly, some of my family died, some scattered. I had no choice but to take my child and seek relatives elsewhere.”

Anyway, Jinling was a thousand li from Heluo. This flood and plague had killed too many, driven countless from their homes. Even if he did try to inquire, he would never find anything.

As she silently comforted herself, Xie Wuling narrowed his dark eyes, his gaze roaming up and down the modest little woman before him.

Last night, Aunt Liu next door had used two whole vats of water to scrub her clean from head to toe. Now her little face was fair and flawless, her cloud-black hair tied in the simplest married woman’s bun, and she wore a goose-yellow dress borrowed from Aunt Liu’s third daughter-in-law.

Even though the dress was plain, half-worn, and ill-fitting, on her snow-pale skin and slender waist it carried a kind of rare refinement, like a wintersweet blossom still beaded with dew, swaying fresh and delicate in the wind.

Though Xie Wuling was a bottom-rung street rogue, he wasn’t without discernment. Bearing, poise, and that standard Chang’an speech, she outshone even the prefect’s daughters.

Not to mention, she’d gone white as paper at the sight of a cockroach. What farmer’s wife hadn’t seen bugs? You stepped on them, that was all. Who would be scared half to death?

“Ma Cuilan.”

Xie Wuling suddenly called.

Shen Yujiao started, then answered, “Y-yes, that’s me.”

Inwardly, Xie Wuling sneered. He gave her a deep look. “Nothing. Just calling. Eat, before the soup goes cold.”

That look set Shen Yujiao’s heart fluttering anxiously. She couldn’t tell if he believed her story or not. At least he asked no more, and she dared not speak further, bowing her head to eat in silence.

The fresh old hen stewed with ginseng root for half an hour had produced a broth both rich and savory, the meat tender and firm. The freshly steamed wheat buns were sweet and fluffy. Once, half a bun would fill her. But this time, imitating Xie Wuling, she used the bun to scoop the stir-fried greens, and ended up eating two whole buns.

It had simply been too long since she’d eaten a full meal.

Even though she reminded herself she mustn’t, that she’d already eaten enough, her chopsticks would not stop, 

The memory of hunger was too sharp. Right now she felt no different from a starving ghost.

In the end, it was Xie Wuling who pulled her bowl away, saying lazily, “Wolfing food after long hunger only harms the stomach. It’s not like there won’t be another meal. What’s the rush?”

Shen Yujiao froze, chopsticks in hand, her pale face flushing crimson. She ducked her head in embarrassment. “I’ve made the big master laugh.”

“I told you, don’t call me big master. I do have a name.”

Xie Wuling tugged the chopsticks out of her hand, and while gathering up the bowls and dishes, he pressed, “Say my name out loud.”

Seeing him busying himself, Shen Yujiao felt it improper to sit idle. She hurried to rise. “Th-then… thank you, Xie.. Xie Langjun?”

“Langjun?”

Xie Wuling gave her a sidelong smile. “Not impossible. Better without the surname in front.”

In this dynasty, langjun was a common respectful form of address for men. But if a woman used it for a peer without adding the surname, it carried a note of intimacy, even flirtation.

Back then, with Pei Xia, she had also called him langjun.

Now hearing the teasing in Xie Wuling’s words, Shen Yujiao felt shame and irritation stir in her chest. But she dared not show it on her face, only murmured, “I beg Xie Langjun not to mock me.”

“Tch. So young, yet you sound like some old stick-in-the-mud.”

“Then just call me Xie Wuling. Langjun sounds so bookish it gives me goosebumps.”

He stopped her from helping with the dishes. “Old Li said your body is weak. You need a few days of rest. Go back and lie down. I’ll take care of this.”

Looking at the large hand gripping her wrist, Shen Yujiao’s heart gave a tremor, and she quickly pulled away.

When she lifted her head again, she met his meaningful gaze. Feeling a bit weak inside but not knowing what to say, she turned her face aside in embarrassment.

“It’s just a touch of the hand, is it really worth all that?”

Xie Wuling muttered, “When you become my wife, we’ll still be sleeping in the same bed at night…”

Before he could finish, he saw her soft little face turning red and white, long lashes trembling. He cut himself off, disgruntled.

Forget it, if he really embarrassed her to death, wouldn’t that be his loss?

—

When Xie Wuling finished tidying up and came out of the kitchen, that figure in goose-yellow still stood in front of the main hall door.

“Why aren’t you back in the room resting?”

He strode up to Shen Yujiao, suddenly realizing this little woman was even more delicate and small than he’d thought.

It looked like he’d have to buy more meat to nourish her, or else with such a frail frame, he’d be afraid of crushing her just by turning over in bed.

Shen Yujiao also noticed the man’s height, he was much taller than her. She had thought Pei Xia was already tall enough, but this man seemed taller still, or rather, more upright and broad, like a mountain. Truly living up to his name, ling, a great mound.

“I want to see the child.” She quietly stepped back, pale face tilted slightly up. “May I?”

“You just had lunch, what’s the rush?”

Xie Wuling somehow produced a stalk of grass and bit it between his teeth. “Besides, even if I brought him over, you can’t feed him. Might as well let him be raised at my brother’s house.”

Shen Yujiao’s expression shifted slightly. After two breaths of silence, she still persisted: “The child has never left my side. If he’s elsewhere, he may not adapt. And… he is my child. Of course I must raise him myself to be at ease.”

She felt there was nothing improper in saying this, but Xie Wuling gave her a strange look. “Your child?”

His counterquestion left Shen Yujiao baffled. “Hm?”

Xie Wuling tugged at the corner of his lips. “Nothing.” Then he glanced up at the blazing sun. “My brother’s house is outside the city. Let me take a nap first, then I’ll go later.”

Shen Yujiao stood silent, unmoving.

Xie Wuling frowned. “What now?”

She suspected his repeated delays meant he had sold the child, but she dared not ask. Only pressing her pale lips together, she said softly, “Then go sleep. I’ll wait here… until you wake.”

Seeing her still face, he suddenly understood. “You’re that anxious to see him?”

Her lashes lowered. “…”

“In this blazing sun, you want me to fetch a child for you? Tsk, sure enough, the prettier the woman, the more heartless she is.”

Xie Wuling let out a laugh of exasperation. Then, as if struck by an idea, his dark eyes gleamed, and he leaned down toward her. “Unless you promise to be my wife, then I’ll listen to you.”

The sudden closeness made Shen Yujiao step back in fright, her thin face heating under his scorching, blunt gaze.

She turned her head away, silently cursing lecher!

“You’re cursing me?”

His low, lazy voice drifted from above. Shen Yujiao’s eyelids jumped. “No.”

“Go on, curse.” Xie Wuling chuckled. “Anyway, hitting means affection, cursing means love. The more you curse me, the more you love me.”

Shen Yujiao was dumbfounded.

She swore, in all her life this was the first time she’d met such a shameless man, so brazen, so self-assured, with not a shred of modesty!

Xie Wuling, of course, knew she wouldn’t agree so quickly. Shrugging indifferently, he added, “I can fetch the child, but what if you run off while I’m gone?”

Seeing he was willing to give way, Shen Yujiao’s eyes lit up. She hurried to assure him: “The child is still with you. How could I possibly run?”

Looking at her bright, glistening eyes, Xie Wuling’s lips moved slightly. “Who knows? It’s not like he’s your own flesh and blood.”

His words came so light and quick that Shen Yujiao didn’t catch them. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Xie Wuling spat out the stalk of grass and turned. “Go back inside. I’ll bring the child.”

Only after that tall figure left the courtyard did Shen Yujiao come back to herself.

He actually… really went?

If the child truly had been taken out to be nursed, then perhaps… perhaps this man wasn’t as bad as she had thought.

And she had said she wouldn’t run. He had believed her, hadn’t even closed the gate…

Cre-eak, 

The door opened, breaking her thoughts.

She thought it was Xie Wuling returning, but instead a round-faced stranger entered.

“Oh my, the little wife Ah Ling brought back, you’re awake? My goodness, when I helped wipe you down and change clothes last night, I already knew you were pretty. Didn’t expect by daylight you’d look like a fairy descended to earth!”

The round-faced woman looked about forty or fifty, clutching a handful of roasted melon seeds. She walked into the yard as if it were her own home, her gaze toward Shen Yujiao full of warmth. “I’m Aunt Liu from next door. Ah Ling had to go out, so he told me to keep you company.”

Shen Yujiao: “…”

She withdrew her earlier little bit of guilt, clearly, he didn’t trust her much at all.