Xie Wuling came back limping.
But he smiled at Shen Yujiao like it was nothing: “Just took a few lashes, no big deal. A few days’ rest and it’ll be fine.”
Then he even announced some good news: “Sixth Master said this time it was because he hadn’t disciplined Chang Song properly. From now on he’ll keep him in check. As compensation, he donated me an official post at the Dianli Yamen. In seven days I can report for duty there. From today on, I’m no longer some street thug—I’ll be an official yamen runner who eats from the state granary!”
Dianli Yamen, also called the Patrol Yamen, managed criminal law, catching thieves, supervision, prisons and such.
Though it was a post without rank or grade, not even in the official hierarchy, it was still a proper job wearing official robes and drawing rations. For someone of Xie Wuling’s background, it was indeed quite a good opportunity.
Aunt Liu, Wildcat, Sparrow and the others all offered their congratulations.
Shen Yujiao stood off to the side, her face showing little joy.
Xie Wuling also noticed her silence. After exchanging a few polite words with Aunt Liu and the rest, he sent them off.
Once the courtyard gate was shut, he held his waist with one hand, walking unevenly toward Shen Yujiao, drawling teasingly: “Little Jiaoniang, your man’s an official now, how come you don’t even give me a smile?”
Her eyes swept over him, lips pressed softly together. She said evenly: “Go inside. Lie down on the bed.”
Xie Wuling raised a brow: “So happy you’re going to offer yourself up? But not tonight—this body’s all beaten up.”
Shen Yujiao: “…”
Too lazy to answer, she turned and went straight into the kitchen, taking out the medicine bottles again.
Seeing her calm black eyes and serious expression, Xie Wuling grew a little guilty, rubbing his nose: “No need for medicine.”
“Don’t force yourself.”
“Really don’t need—”
“Xie Wuling!”
“…I already had Old Li apply medicine for me on the way back.”
“…”
She lifted her head. In front of her, the man tilted his face up, now looking at the sky, now at the ground—anywhere but at her.
After a moment of silence, she said: “Even so, go inside and let me look at your wounds.”
“Just a few whip marks, nothing to see.”
By now Shen Yujiao had some understanding of this man’s temperament. The more he acted this way, the more something was wrong.
Her slender fingers tightened around the tray in her hands, her tone went cold: “If you don’t let me look today, then when we marry, even if you beg me to, I’ll never look at you again.”
Saying that, she turned to go.
“Don’t be like that—”
Her wrist was suddenly caught, and the man’s helpless voice came: “Fine, fine, I’ll let you see, alright!”
Only then did Shen Yujiao stop, glancing sideways at the hand gripping her wrist: “Inside.”
Xie Wuling let go of her slender wrist, muttering as he turned and went back into the house: “Yesterday she was all shy and didn’t dare look, today she’s threatening me if I don’t let her. Women’s hearts… really like a needle lost in the sea.”
He swayed into the room. Shen Yujiao put the medicine bottles back into the kitchen cabinet, then followed after him.
Having gone through the experience yesterday, today when she saw the man’s bare shoulders, Shen Yujiao was much calmer.
But when her eyes fell on his back—those crisscrossing, bloody whip marks, barely hidden under a dusting of pale yellow powder, the flesh torn and mangled—
It was far more than “a few lashes.” Clearly dozens, even a hundred!
That stinging ache surged up again in her nose. Looking at those wounds, her slender fingertips trembled faintly.
Wanted to touch him, yet didn’t dare.
At last she only asked in a muffled voice: “Does it hurt a lot?”
Xie Wuling’s robe was half-hanging off him; he turned his face toward her, his eyes curved in a smile: “Told you already, if Jiaojiao kisses it, it won’t hurt.”
Shen Yujiao’s eyes reddened; she shot him a reproachful glance: “You really are… hopeless.”
“All right, why are you crying again?”
Xie Wuling put his robe back on, tied it with a careless knot, then lifted his hand. The rough pad of his finger brushed the corner of her eye: “When Sixth Master was young, he oversaw punishments. He knows his limits—these wounds look frightening, but they didn’t touch the bones. It’s really nothing.”
Shen Yujiao clearly knew he was touching her face, yet unlike before, she didn’t shrink away. Looking at him, her voice caught slightly: “What really happened at the Chang estate? Why did Sixth Master hit you, then donate you an office?”
That kind of menial yamen bailiff, in Shen Yujiao’s eyes, was just a petty errand post—not even worth calling an official.
After all, in Chang’an, fourth- and fifth-rank officials were as common as dogs, sixth- and seventh-rank everywhere. As the saying went, toss a stone down Suzaku Street and whoever it hit would be either an imperial relative or an aristocrat.
So when Xie Wuling said earlier he was to work at the magistrate’s office, her heart hadn’t leapt with joy—she felt more puzzled than anything.
Seeing her ask, Xie Wuling didn’t hide it. He told her truthfully about going to the Chang estate that day: “…Sixth Master was angry, yes, but when he saw me take the initiative to plead guilty—and besides, it truly was Chang Song who was at fault first—both by reason and feeling, he couldn’t really do much to me. In this life, the most important thing is loyalty. If he indulged his son in insulting his subordinate’s family, who would still be willing to follow him in the future?”
He paused, then added: “Besides, Sixth Master knows perfectly well what kind of coward Chang Song is. So he’s the heir—so what? He’s not a true son. If he’s no good, abolish him and pick a more obedient one. Hardly a big deal.”
Shen Yujiao was stunned: “But that’s the heir—how can you just say abolish and it’s done?”
In great clans, such a matter was like casting off a principal wife—something that could ruin reputations.
Xie Wuling, seeing her reaction, gave a soft laugh: “Sixth Master’s a man of the underworld; he doesn’t care for all those rules. Anyway, after the whipping, he dropped me a hint—if Chang Song dares provoke again, I should just cripple him. After all, Chang Song’s wife already gave birth to a son. An heir is useless. Raise the grandson properly and it’s the same.”
Shen Yujiao’s eyes went wide: “Even that’s allowed?”
All of a sudden, she felt a twinge of regret. If she’d known this earlier, yesterday she should have let Xie Wuling…
From the look in her eyes, Xie Wuling caught her train of thought and curved his lips in a grin: “Seems my little Jiaoniang isn’t all that prim and proper after all.”
Flustered that he had seen straight through her, Shen Yujiao’s cheeks heated. She muttered under her breath: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Turning away, she hurriedly tossed out: “Put your clothes on properly. I’ll go make supper.”
Xie Wuling watched her fleeing back, the corners of his mouth quirking.
As he lowered his head to fasten his robe, he suddenly thought of her calm reaction when hearing he’d gotten a post. His dark eyes narrowed slightly.
So—her former family background must be even better than he’d imagined.
Perhaps that short-lived late husband of hers wasn’t just a mere licentiate, but even some sort of civil official?
—
For the next several days, Xie Wuling stayed home to recover.
Every day, Shen family’s little courtyard echoed with his voice—
“Jiaojiao, I want water…”
“Jiaojiao, Ping’an wet his pants again!”
“Jiaojiao, where are you? It’s so lonely lying here, come keep me company and talk.”
“Jiaojiao, Jiaoniang, wife—”
Shen Yujiao: “……”
Why did this man have so much to say every single day!
Even the neighbor Aunt Liu’s children, Xiuxiu and Gouwazi, hearing his voice through the wall, began to imitate, calling “Jiaojiao, Jiaojiao”—
Only to be dragged back by Aunt Liu and spanked: “No manners! How dare you call her Jiaojiao? You should be calling her Auntie Xie!”
Lying on the main room floor, Xie Wuling heard the neighbor kids crying from their beating, and laughed shamelessly: “Good! Naughty brats ought to be spanked.”
Beside him, Shen Yujiao was peeling a pear, silently cursing: I think you’re the one who could use a beating.
The thought startled her—before, she never had the urge to hit people.
Could it be, like the saying goes, close to vermilion you turn red, close to a rascal you become a rascal?
Fortunately, such days of being endlessly “Jiao’d” by this man didn’t last long. Once the wounds on his back had scabbed over, it was time for him to report to the magistrate’s office.
The reporting day was a crisp autumn one, two magpies chirping on a branch.
Xie Wuling dressed in the bailiff’s uniform. It wasn’t much to look at—deep blue, with a black belt and black boots.
But with his narrow waist, broad shoulders, long limbs, he somehow made the plain outfit stand tall. With the blade slung at his side, he even carried a faint air of stern dignity, not to be underestimated.
“How is it? Don’t I look decent in this getup?”
The man who had been a street tough now turned petty official couldn’t hide his excitement. He spread his arms and turned in a circle before Shen Yujiao.
Looking at him dressed like that, Shen Yujiao suddenly thought of the young generals in Chang’an, clad in gold and silver armor, or the martial officials in their daily court robes.
With their hats of office, purple or vermilion garments, belts adorned with jade, gold, silver, brass, rhinoceros horn; and their robes embroidered according to rank with lions, tigers, leopards, bears, panthers, rhinos…
They say clothes make the man, saddle makes the horse—once one dons that kind of official robe, even the most crooked melon or cracked jujube of a fellow will be lent a touch of dignity.
If Xie Wuling were to wear such a robe, who knew how dashing and handsome he might look.
Shen Yujiao’s gaze wavered, and when she came back to herself, she realized she was thinking far too much.
Though in the Great Liang dynasty talent was valued and sought, unlike the previous dynasty when noble clans monopolized everything—so that “among the high ranks no poor men, among the low ranks no noble houses”—still, what had been opened was merely the imperial examinations to recruit scholars. Most military posts were still handed down from father to son, generation to generation, within great families.
For a general to make a name for himself was harder than for a poor scholar to pass the examinations. What’s more, Xie Wuling was now nothing more than a petty yamen runner.
“Why so quiet?”
The man leaned down, his handsome face suddenly magnified before her eyes, his smile wanton: “Could it be you’re so bewitched by your man’s elegance you can’t even speak?”
Even after living together nearly two months, Shen Yujiao still found herself speechless at his boundless confidence.
But since it was his first day reporting to work, she didn’t want to dampen his mood. So she curved her eyes in a smile and said: “Looks good—you must be the most handsome bailiff in all Jinling.”
At her praise, Xie Wuling’s eyes grew brighter still, gazing at her with burning intensity: “Don’t worry. No matter how handsome, I’m only yours. I’ll never fool around outside.”
At that leap of logic, Shen Yujiao was at once dumbfounded and amused, while a faint, unnameable warmth spread quietly through her heart.
“I know.”
She answered softly, hesitated, then stepped forward to straighten the belt at his waist: “Xie Wuling, do your job well. I believe you’ll make a fine yamen officer.”
Xie Wuling lowered his eyes, looking at the little lady before him tidying his robe of her own accord. Her long lashes fluttered like butterflies, her brows and eyes delicate and pure, a quiet grace radiating from her. The heart in his chest grew uncontrollably hot.
“I will.”
He restrained his usual roguish smile, his young voice clear and warm: “To marry is to marry a virtuous wife. With a good wife like you, I’ll certainly do my job well and rise above. One day I’ll make you an official’s wife, so you can enjoy peace and fortune.”
Shen Yujiao’s eyes flickered; then she lifted her face, eyes curving: “All right. I’ll be waiting.”
Xie Wuling gazed at the beautiful face so close at hand, his throat bobbing.
How he wanted… to kiss her.
Shen Yujiao was no inexperienced maiden; catching the look in his eyes, she instantly understood. Flustered, she hurriedly took a step back, stammering: “It’s… it’s getting late. You should be off to duty.”
Seeing her cheeks tinged with pink, Xie Wuling’s long fingers tightened over the hilt of his blade.
Just a little longer.
Soon enough she would marry him openly and properly.
Then he could kiss her however he pleased—even if the King of Heaven himself came, he couldn’t stop it.
“I’m off. You be good at home.”
“All right. I’ll wait for you to come back.”
After sending Xie Wuling off, Shen Yujiao barred the gate and returned to the bedchamber to tidy up the bedding.
Once, she had been a pampered young lady, a noble madam whose fingers never touched spring water. Now, folding quilts and washing clothes with her own hands was not as hard to adapt to as she had imagined—
She told herself it was because on the road of flight she had suffered worse; in contrast, this was nothing.
Truly, people are as resilient as weeds—so long as there is hope of life, one can keep on living, no matter what.
Sighing inwardly, once she had finished tidying, she took out needle and thread, planning to sew a sachet for Xie Wuling.
In the quiet, time slipped by unawares, stitch by stitch.
By evening, suddenly from the street came the sound of drums and gongs, clang and clamor, mingled with cheers.
Shen Yujiao’s hand paused on the sachet; she pricked up her ears to listen.
Next door, Aunt Liu’s household also heard the commotion. The children ran out, shouting: “Beating gongs—someone’s getting married!”
“You two little scamps, slow down, slow down—” Aunt Liu called after them.
Curious, Shen Yujiao too went to the gate and gently opened it: “Aunt Liu, what’s happening outside?”
“I don’t know yet. I was just going to take a look at the fun.”
Scolding her two children as she went, Aunt Liu beckoned Shen Yujiao: “Jiaoniang, come along too?”
Though curious, Shen Yujiao still carried the shadow of the last time she had rashly gone out. Once bitten by a snake, ten years afraid of a well rope—she shook her head in the end: “No, Ping’an is still sleeping inside. If he wakes and doesn’t find me, I’d worry.”
Seeing the rosy, luminous beauty of her young face, Aunt Liu also felt it best for her to stay in—if she went out, she would surely draw too many eyes: “All right, then stay home. I’ll take a look and tell you when I come back.”
“Okay.” Shen Yujiao answered softly and closed the gate.
She hadn’t long to wait before Aunt Liu returned.
Her face was alight with joy as she spoke excitedly to Shen Yujiao: “Good news from Huainan! That rebel leader surnamed Zhang has been beheaded and displayed by the Second Prince! The Huainan rebels are now nothing but beaten remnants. The court army will be returning to the capital in a few days!”
Huainan’s rebellion… already quelled?
Shen Yujiao sat there in a daze. Now, hearing the word “Huainan,” she thought of that bright-as-the-moon, jade-like young lord. It felt like a lifetime away, hazy and unreal.
Since parting on the first of May, four months had passed.
She still remembered, in the Wenxi ancestral house, how he had spoken of the war, and under the dim lamplight promised her he would return home as soon as possible.
Back then, how had she answered him? Ah yes, she had smiled at him and said, with her husband’s wisdom and strategy, he would surely win a swift victory and return triumphant soon.
Four months—subtracting the time spent on the march—for a war, it could indeed be called a swift victory.
But who could have thought fate would toy with her so? She had drifted to this place.
That Madam Shen, Yuniang, could no longer wait for her husband’s return.
“Jiaoniang, what’s wrong?”
Aunt Liu looked at her in puzzlement. “The court’s army has won a great victory—that’s a wonderful thing! If the fighting had dragged on, we’d surely be taxed heavier next year. Now that it’s over, we don’t have to worry anymore.”
Shen Yujiao came back to herself, tugged faintly at the corners of her lips. “I’m just too happy, I didn’t think it would go so smoothly.”
Aunt Liu said, “This time it was the Second Prince himself who oversaw the campaign. He’s a dragon’s son, blessed by Heaven. Besides, I hear the Second Prince even invited some very powerful strategist… surname Wen, or maybe Pei…”
“Pei Xia,” Shen Yujiao said.
“Yes, yes, that sounds right.” Aunt Liu clicked her tongue. “They say this man is the Literary Star descended from Heaven, a god of war, truly remarkable!”
Shen Yujiao lowered her eyes quietly. Indeed, he was the heir of the illustrious Pei clan of Hedong, brilliant beyond compare—Pei Shouzhen.
