Song of the Bright Moon Chapter 25

“This is your drawing?”

Xie Wuling walked to the table. Under the faint lamplight, the flowing lines and orderly arrangement of the plan astonished him. “You didn’t even use a ruler — how are your lines this straight?”

Shen Yujiao flushed slightly. “Draw enough, and your hand just learns.”

Back in the boudoir, when boredom struck, she loved flipping through the stack of architectural plans her father had collected. Watching the designs on the rice paper become towering, elegant, or grand buildings — though she wasn’t qualified to take part — she could still imagine the sense of accomplishment at completion.

Pity that she was born a woman, unfit for office, and could only trace plans at home as a pastime.

“This one you drew is good. It matches exactly what I had in mind.”

Xie Wuling carefully examined the sheet, then lifted his gaze slightly toward her, a smile tugging at the corner of his eyes: “I just said a few words, and you could put it on paper. Little Jiaoniang, would you say this counts as a true meeting of the minds?”

He was at it again.

Shen Yujiao thought to herself she knew he could never stay serious for more than two breaths, and only shifted the topic: “If you think it’s fine, then tomorrow fetch some soft measuring ropes. I’ll measure the courtyard properly, then plan again to scale and make some adjustments.”

Xie Wuling had wanted to say that such matters were for the craftsmen building walls and houses, and she needn’t worry her little head about it. But seeing the undisguised eagerness in her eyes, the words turned on his tongue, and in the end he agreed: “Alright, I’ll get them all for you tomorrow.”

Her eyes lit even brighter, and on a sudden impulse he reached out and rubbed her head: “Just this happy?”

Feeling the broad palm resting on her crown, Shen Yujiao froze, her black eyes wide: “…!”

“Ahem.”

Xie Wuling, unsettled under her clear gaze, awkwardly pulled his hand back and turned away: “Alright, alright, come eat. This Laozi’s starving!”

He strode out of the room.

Looking down at his own hand, he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

It was just touching her head, not anywhere else — what was there to feel guilty about?

Besides, she was his wife!

Must be that all those Confucius-Mencius-Xunzi-whatever books from her little basket had gotten to him. Sure enough, too much reading makes a man dumb!

—

Xie Wuling was a man who did as he said — especially when it came to things promised to Shen Yujiao.

The very next day, he brought back a carpenter’s ruler, wooden compass, square, level, and plumb line — all the measuring tools.

And so, Shen Yujiao’s daily routine gained a new task: measuring the site, sketching construction plans, estimating costs, looking every bit like she was about to take on the whole project of building on that wasteland herself.

Xie Wuling didn’t interfere, letting her do as she pleased —

So long as she didn’t run off outside, whatever she busied herself with at home was fine.

And the days passed steadily, one after another. Before long, it was the end of August, and in the wind there was already a touch of autumn’s chill.

That afternoon the sun shone strong. Shen Yujiao was in the courtyard teaching Xiuxiu and Gouwazi to write big characters, while Aunt Liu held Ping’an and fed him goat’s milk.

Suddenly an about eight- or nine-year-old street urchin came running up to the gate and shouted at Shen Yujiao from the doorway, “Are you Xie Niangzi?”

Shen Yujiao looked at him in surprise. “Who are you?”

“I’m the little beggar on the street,” the boy said. “Xie Niangzi, come with me quickly — your Xie Wuling is fighting with someone in the alley ahead!”

“What!” Shen Yujiao’s brow twitched.

Aunt Liu was startled too. “My goodness, how did they get to fighting?”

This morning the man had still been joking about bringing back roast duck for her — how could he be fighting with someone this afternoon!

Truly a worrywart.

“Aunt Liu, please stay and watch Ping’an for me; I’ll be right back.”

“All right, all right — be careful.”

Aunt Liu called after the small figure hurrying off, “Men fighting never have much sense of moderation; don’t rush in to pull them apart and get yourself hurt!”

Shen Yujiao followed the little beggar at a quick pace without looking back. “I won’t.”

Aunt Liu hugged Ping’an and shook her head with a sigh. “This Ah Ling — he’s about to start a family and still so rash.”

Then she turned and glared at her two little rascals trying to run out, wagging a finger: “Sit still. You’re children — what are you getting all excited for?”

“Little brother, why did he start fighting? How many are there on the other side?”

Shen Yujiao kept close behind the thin little beggar, brows knit, heart raised with anxiety.

“It looks like it started with an argument—”

The boy pulled his hood over his head as he walked on. “I don’t know the details. Anyway it’s a fierce fight, heads are bleeding. Hurry and come with me!”

They were even bleeding from the head!?

Shen Yujiao’s worry tightened. She’d known his temper would get him into trouble outside; now his head was broken — she didn’t know how badly.

Full of anxious concern, she followed the beggar through two lanes, but after a while still saw no sign of Xie Wuling and grew puzzled. “He said it was just ahead — why haven’t we arrived yet?”

“Almost there, almost there — just in the next alley.”

The beggar quickened his pace and pointed to a crooked old locust tree ahead. “It’s in that alley. A few people are fighting fiercely!”

Seeing it was close, Shen Yujiao put aside her doubt. When they reached the alley mouth she indeed heard the sounds of grunting and scuffling.

“We’re here — this is it!” the beggar stopped at the alley and turned to leave.

Shen Yujiao asked in surprise, “Where are you going?”

“I can’t stay here. If that gang finds out I was the one who alerted you, they might beat me too!”

The boy hurried off like a slippery loach.

Hearing the fists and feet in the deep lane growing more violent, Shen Yujiao had no time for anything else. She hurried into the alley and shouted at the top of her voice, “Stop at once — I’ve reported this to the magistrate; the officials will be here any moment!”

At her shout the commotion in the alley abruptly ceased.

Shen Yujiao looked intently and saw the circle of men slowly part. At the very center, there was no Xie Wuling bleeding from a head wound — only a pile of sandbags.

Seeing the four or five unfamiliar faces among the men, Shen Yujiao’s heart sank.

Bad — it’s a trap!

She spun around, but two men in servant livery had already appeared at the alley mouth.

The faces looked somewhat familiar; on closer thought she realized — weren’t these the lackeys of Second Master Song whom she’d run into on the street over half a month ago?

Knowing who had arranged this scheme eased her fear a little.

Then she saw the brocade-robed man slowly appear behind the lackeys, fanning himself, and her expression grew colder.

“Oh my, what are you all glaring at? If you frighten the young lady, I’ll not let you off!” Chang Song waved his fan to clear the servants aside and then looked at the young lady pressed against the wall with no way forward or back. His small eyes flashed.

Before him stood snow-white skin, hair neatly arranged, a simple dusk-blue dress tied at the waist that made her waist seem slender — fragile and delicate.

Indeed, a graceful, lovely beauty!

Since that day on the street they had parted, he had been wanting to catch a glimpse of her again. But Shen Yujiao usually stayed in the yard and never went out.

Waiting and waiting and seeing she wouldn’t come out of her own accord, Chang Song had grown impatient and at last couldn’t sit still.

While Xie Wuling had been sent by the old man to handle business outside the city, Chang Song had bribed that little beggar and set this lure-away-from-the-hill ploy—

“Sister-in-law, glad you’re well. Do you still remember me?”

Chang Song pretended casualness, flicked his fan, and smiled as he stepped toward Shen Yujiao.

Shen Yujiao clenched her palm and edged her back closer to the wall. Though nervous inside, she kept a composed face and forced out, “Second Brother Song, what is the meaning of this?”

“I didn’t expect you to remember me, sister-in-law — very good, very good.” Chang Song smiled and moved a step closer. “I came today to see you with no other intention than — didn’t I say last time on the street that I’d invite you to a meal? I’ve not had the chance since. Are you free today? Will you do me the favor of dining with me?”

Shen Yujiao had once thought that Xie Wuling was the most shameless man she had ever encountered. Yet seeing this Chang Song now, along with those men around him glaring like tigers watching their prey, she finally understood what it meant to be truly despicable.

“Second Brother Song’s kind intentions, I should not refuse. But my Langjun is not home at the moment. Why not wait until he returns later, and I can attend the banquet together with him?”

“Him?” Chang Song said flatly. “I fear he won’t be coming back today.”

At those words, Shen Yujiao’s willow brows knitted together. “What do you mean by that?”

Could it be that this vile man had done something to Xie Wuling?

Noticing her look of alarm—and how that nervousness lent her a different charm—Chang Song fixed his gaze on her face, laughed twice, and said: “Little beauty, I can see you’re a smart one. So Second Master won’t bother with circles and pretenses.”

Here he paused, gave a signal with his eyes, and had the servants in the alley dismissed, leaving only two trusted lackeys guarding the entrance.

Once no outsiders remained, he dusted off his silk robe sleeve, and with leisurely calm looked straight at Shen Yujiao. “Master has taken a liking to you. I want to bring you into my chambers. If you are sensible, then act with the times and obediently please me. From then on, gold, silver, jewels, silks and brocades—you will never lack. But if you insist on being stubborn… hmph, don’t blame me for showing no pity to fragrance and jade.”

Never had Shen Yujiao seen someone so brazenly shameless. Her face flushed red and white, humiliated and furious. “Second Master Song, have you forgotten that I am the soon-to-be bride of Xie Wuling?”

“So what?” Chang Song leaned closer, his face twisted with lewdness. “It’s not as if I’ve never toyed with another man’s wife. A married woman has its own kind of taste.”

Such filthy words made Shen Yujiao’s stomach churn with nausea.

She retreated, her dark eyes glistening like ice as she glared at this shameless wolf, her voice sharp: “If you dare offend me in the least, Xie Wuling will never spare you! And don’t forget, he is Sixth Master Chang’s lifesaver. If you harm me, even Sixth Master will not forgive you!”

“Oh ho, such a delicate little lady, yet such a sharp tongue. You even bring up the old man to suppress me?”

Chang Song gave a cold snort, his steps advancing steadily, his rat-like eyes narrowing. “And what of a lifesaver? I am his adopted son, the one who will one day see him off in burial and carry on his incense line. I merely play with a subordinate’s woman—do you think over something so trivial, he would disown me as his son?”

Hearing the utter lack of respect in his words for Sixth Master, Shen Yujiao’s heart chilled by more than half.

She kept stepping back, but Chang Song pressed forward step by step, his grin growing ever more proud and ferocious. “Little lady, don’t be so naïve. That Xie Wuling loves nothing more than blowing hot air all day. Do you really believe him, think he is someone of importance? Him? To put it plainly, he’s nothing but a b*stard-born good-for-nothing. Were it not for my father raising him up, bringing him under his wing and giving him respectable errands, who would ever call him ‘Master Xie’? Hah—without the Chang family, Xie Wuling is worth less than a fart!”

Such merciless words made Shen Yujiao burn with anger. She wanted to argue that Xie Wuling was not worthless—but she had no way to refute it.

For as ugly as the words were, there was truth in them. Xie Wuling was alone and unsupported; all the ease and pride he had now was thanks entirely to Sixth Master’s grace.

If Sixth Master were to abandon him…

Shen Yujiao’s face turned pale. She had already retreated until her waist pressed against a sandbagged cart at the side, with no way further back.

Lifting her face, her clear black eyes clouded with humiliation and fear, she glared hatefully at the man before her. “You say Xie Wuling is nothing—yet I say you are the real scum… dog-scum!”

That word “scum” she had first learned from Xie Wuling himself.

At the time she had thought him coarse—but she never expected that today she herself would spit it out.

Yet speaking it aloud, there was an indescribable sense of… satisfaction.

Chang Song had not expected this fragile, genteel-looking young woman to curse at all. His lewd face twisted, twisted again, then he raised his hand and reached for her. “You little sl*t—refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit, is that it?”

Seeing that hand reach toward her, Shen Yujiao instinctively tried to dodge, but the way behind her was blocked. However she tried, she could not avoid him, and soon Chang Song’s hand clamped down on her shoulder.

That unfamiliar touch made her skin crawl, shattering her forced composure. Panic slipped into her voice: “You—you let me go, you rogue! To molest a common woman in broad daylight, I’ll report you to the magistrate!”

Her words only brought peals of laughter from Chang Song. “You, a little outsider woman, want to sue me in Jinling Prefecture? Hahahaha—still so young, so laughably naïve.”

He laughed wantonly for a while, then as the woman under his hand struggled more fiercely, his face abruptly darkened, his voice turning cold. “I don’t fear telling you: even if I were to first violate you and then kill you right here, no one in all Jinling Prefecture could touch me!”

That chilling certainty in his threat sent icy dread through Shen Yujiao’s body.

Yes—Chang family was a famed, powerful clan in Jinling. With their wealth, even ghosts would bend to their will. She was no longer a noble daughter or a matron of some great house. Now, a woman with no backing at all, caught in the sights of such a wolf, what else awaited her but the fate of a lamb to the slaughter?

“That’s better.” Seeing her freeze as if frightened still, Chang Song’s lips curled in satisfaction. He bent his head lower. “You’d better be clever. Follow me and you’ll eat delicacies and wear silks—far better than trailing after that rascal Xie Wuling.”

As he spoke, his hand stretched out toward her face.

Shen Yujiao’s lashes trembled; she quickly dodged away. Seeing Chang Song about to change his face again, she lifted her chin and spoke softly: “Second Brother Song, don’t be hasty—there are still so many people outside watching.”

Hearing her tone shift, Chang Song brightened with delight. “Oh? So the little lady has finally come around?”

“You’ve said it yourself—if I still don’t come around, wouldn’t that make me a blockhead?” Shen Yujiao lowered her lashes, forcing down the disgust in her eyes, and spoke gently: “You’re right. Following Xie Wuling is nothing compared to following you…”

“Ah, now that’s what Master likes—a woman who knows the times.”

When he lunged forward again, Shen Yujiao dodged once more, forcing a smile. “I already promised to be good with you. Why so impatient? Didn’t you say you’d treat me to a meal? Or is Second Brother Song deceiving me, unwilling to spend even the price of a fine banquet, and wants instead to put on a live spring show here in this shabby alley for all outside to see?”

Hearing that, Chang Song—having no such fetish—paused. Looking at the seemingly meek yet clever young woman before him, his gaze flickered. “Since a little beauty is willing to give me this face, then let’s go to a private room at a restaurant, sit down, eat, and chat… But since we’re to be lovers, you ought to give me a little proof first. Why not let Master have a taste of how sweet that little mouth is?”

Seeing this rat-faced man pucker his lips, about to force himself close, Shen Yujiao’s stomach turned with revulsion. She could endure no more. With a sudden shove, she pushed him away, and instinctively cried out at the top of her voice: “Help! Someone—save me!”

Chang Song, caught off guard, staggered back two steps, grinding his teeth in fury. “Ungrateful little sl*t! You dare play me for a fool?!”

“Men! Block the way out!”

He rolled up his sleeves and strode toward Shen Yujiao, raising his arm high. “See if I don’t beat you to death today!”

Shen Yujiao was forced into a corner. Seeing that palm raised high, her heart clenched tight; instinctively, she squatted down, arms over her head.

“Ahhh—!”

A scream suddenly rang out in the alley.

Shen Yujiao’s lashes fluttered violently. Wait… she hadn’t screamed.

“My hand! My hand!”

Chang Song’s wail came loud and clear before her. Stunned, Shen Yujiao slowly lifted her head from her knees, only to see him clutching his hand, hopping in pain. At the alley mouth, chaos had broken out.

Against the slanting afternoon sun stood a tall figure. With fists as large as bowls, he swung left and right, grabbing a lackey by the collar and lifting him clean off the ground. Two heavy blows—blood sprayed everywhere—and the man was tossed aside like trash, landing with a thud, unconscious.

The other men, who had been about to rush in, froze in terror, faltering and not daring to advance.

Clutching his hand, Chang Song roared in fury: “What are you standing around for? Get him! Beat him to death if you must—I’ll take the blame!”

At his order, the remaining seven or eight thugs finally charged at the upright figure.

Yet that man showed not the slightest fear. With only his fists, he grabbed two heads and slammed them together with a resounding crack.

When someone attacked from behind, he twisted his body, swept his leg in a low arc, and with that taut, powerful leg, sent the man flying eight feet away.

Like a god slaying demons, like a Buddha cutting down devils—he advanced straight down the alley.

His strikes were so clean, so ruthless, that even Shen Yujiao—merely watching from the side—felt her body go numb.

So this was how ruffians fought?

It was simply… far too brutal.

When the figure drew closer, in the dim light of the alley, she finally saw that familiar face.

That man, who usually wore a careless, roguish smile—now, with his brows and eyes stained with blood, was cold and terrifying.

Especially those narrow eyes fixed on Chang Song, black as ink, like a deep, lightless abyss.

This Xie Wuling was utterly unfamiliar, yet somehow filled Shen Yujiao with a strange sense of relief. “Xie Wuling!”

She almost sobbed his name, her dark eyes filling quickly with tears.

At the sound of her soft, tear-choked cry, Xie Wuling’s gaze shifted slightly. He looked down.

There, huddled in the corner, was Shen Yujiao—face pale as snow, eyes shimmering with tears. His heart sank heavily.

After a pause, his hoarse voice said: “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

Meeting that faintly softened gaze, Shen Yujiao’s heart steadied. She nodded at him.

Xie Wuling tugged his lips into the barest hint of a smile, then lifted his head again, striding toward the skulking, retreating Chang Song. With a savage kick to the crook of his knees—

“Ahhh!” Chang Song let out another scream, collapsing with a thud, both knees forced to the ground.

Xie Wuling stood over him, coldly looking down from above. “Which dog paw laid hands on my wife?”

Chang Song sprawled on the ground, craning his head up to curse: “Xie Wuling, you—ahhh!”

Xie Wuling’s boot came down hard on the hand propping him up, grinding down until there was an audible crack of bone.

The sound chilled Shen Yujiao to the bone; she shrank her own hands into her sleeves.

“Ahhh—Xie Wuling, you b*stard! How dare you—ahhh!”

A brutal punch crashed into Chang Song’s face with a resounding crack.

Before Shen Yujiao could even react, she saw two teeth, mixed with blood, fly through the air and hit the ground.

A sheltered young lady like her had never seen such savagery, such blood. Her mind went utterly blank with shock—

It wasn’t until Xie Wuling had pinned Chang Song to the ground, punching him over and over until his face was a bloody mess, that Shen Yujiao suddenly snapped out of it and rushed forward to pull at him:

“Xie Wuling, Xie Wuling, stop!”

The man’s strength was far too great. She had to throw both arms tightly around his to stop him from swinging his fist again.

Afraid of hurting her, Xie Wuling quickly reined in his force. When he turned his head toward her, there was still a savage, bloodthirsty glint in his eyes.

Shen Yujiao clung tightly to him, shaking her head: “You’ll beat him to death!”

“That dog b*stard dared to insult you—killing him would serve him right!”

“No, no… you can’t.” Shen Yujiao locked her eyes on his, trying to pull him back to reason. “He’s Sixth Master’s heir, the young master of the Chang family… you can’t kill him. If you do, you’ll have to pay with your life!”

Chang Song had money and power. Even if he murdered, burned, plundered, or raped, the Chang household would find a way to protect him.

But Xie Wuling was different—he had nothing. If he killed, there would be no one to shield him—

Even if Sixth Master valued him highly, in the end, blood runs thicker than water. How could he abandon his own heir for the sake of an outsider?

“He didn’t touch me, he didn’t…” Shen Yujiao’s voice trembled, her eyes brimming with tears. “I know you’re standing up for me, but to throw away your own life over a man like that—it isn’t worth it. Besides, if you’re thrown in prison, life for a life… what about me? What about the children?”

Her tears fell like glittering stars dropping from the sky.

Plop.

They landed straight on the back of Xie Wuling’s hand.

Scalding hot—burning all the way to his heart’s core.

Xie Wuling’s broad chest rose and fell violently for several breaths before he finally pressed down the killing rage in his eyes and rose from Chang Song’s body.

Then, looking at the little lady still clutching tightly to his arm, his heart softened.

He wanted to wipe her tears, but when he lifted his hand, he found his palm covered in blood. Only after roughly wiping it on his robe did he reach for her.

“All right, don’t cry anymore.”

His long, well-boned fingers brushed the tear streaks from the corners of her eyes. With a long exhale, he pulled her into his arms. “Come on, let’s go home.”