At dusk, cooking smoke curled upward, and the distant heavens were brushed with a faint orange glow of sunset.
Xie Wuling, a blade slung over one arm and an oil-paper parcel in the other, swaggered toward the gate: “Jiaojiao, I’m back!”
His voice was loud, and soon a reply came from the courtyard: “Coming.”
Shen Yujiao was still wearing the misty-bamboo-colored dress from morning, only now with a yellowed apron tied at her waist. A spatula in hand, she opened the gate, cast Xie Wuling a quick glance, then turned back toward the kitchen, reminding him as she went: “You’ve been out all day, remember to wash up first.”
Xie Wuling lazily answered, “Got it.”
He strolled to the water vat to wash his hands, then carried the oil-paper parcel into the kitchen. “What’re you busy with?”
Standing at the earthen stove, spatula in hand, Shen Yujiao was staring intently into the wok. “Making supper. Have you washed your hands?”
“Washed, washed—just washing my hands, and you say it eight hundred times a day.”
“It’s a matter of propriety,” Shen Yujiao said. “The ancients taught: observe propriety to cultivate oneself; know propriety to cultivate virtue; propriety must never be discarded—”
“Master Shen, spare me the lecture. I just got home and already my head’s pounding.”
Xie Wuling raised his hands in mock surrender, stepped closer, and glanced at the limp, overcooked greens in the wok. “Why don’t you rest a bit. I’ll take over.”
Shen Yujiao: “I’m almost done.”
Xie Wuling: “Yeah, almost charred.”
Shen Yujiao: “…”
With a chuckle, Xie Wuling deftly took the spatula from her hand. Seeing her standing there empty-handed and dazed, he pointed to the oil-paper parcel he’d brought back. “A new cooked-food shop opened on Guizhi Lane. I bought half a braised chicken. Plate it up and set it on the table.”
“…All right.”
Casting another glance at the greens in the wok, Shen Yujiao felt a little puzzled. Was it really that bad?
The very first time she had cooked, hadn’t he eaten every bite and praised it to the skies?
Still, with Xie Wuling in the kitchen, she needn’t worry.
She plated the chopped braised chicken and set it on the table, then went inside to check on Ping’an.
The little one was fast asleep in the cradle, breathing evenly, his round baby face already showing the plumpness of his age. Her gaze softened.
She gently lowered the curtain and, passing the dressing mirror, paused in her step.
In the bronze mirror’s yellow sheen, her figure was still slender, yet beneath the loose robes, her belly—over four months along—had begun to show.
After a moment’s hesitation, she placed her palm lightly over it. Warmth spread out from her hand.
She had always heard that pregnant women suffered many discomforts, but this child in her womb was so quiet.
If not for the belly steadily growing, many times she nearly forgot she was carrying life within her.
Such a quiet child—should she say it was well-behaved? Or did it somehow know its mother once thought of discarding it, and so kept even lower, lessening its presence?
Or perhaps, like its father, it too would be a taciturn, silent soul?
“Jiaojiao, supper’s ready, come eat!”
Xie Wuling’s voice came from outside. Shen Yujiao gathered her thoughts, lowered her loose robes, and replied, “Coming.”
Their supper was simple: a plate of stir-fried greens, a plate of scrambled eggs with scallions, the braised chicken, and a large tray of steamed wheat cakes.
Once seated, Shen Yujiao brought two porcelain cups and a wine pot from the kitchen.
“Where’d this wine come from?” Xie Wuling lifted the pot to sniff, his brows lifting. “Ho, Old Tong’s daughter’s red!”
“Huainan won a victory. Aunt Liu went out to buy food and drink to celebrate. I had her bring me a pot.”
Shen Yujiao poured him a cup. “Today was your first day on duty, that deserves celebrating too. Only I can’t drink, so I’ll toast with tea instead—don’t take offense.”
Hearing that she’d gone out of her way to buy wine to celebrate him, Xie Wuling couldn’t be happier. “What’s there to take offense at? Even if you wanted to drink, I wouldn’t let you.”
He reached out and clasped her hand. “Sit.”
Shen Yujiao glanced at that firm hand holding hers, her ears heating slightly, but said nothing more and slowly sat down.
“Come, let’s have a toast first.” Xie Wuling lifted his cup.
Shen Yujiao raised her tea cup to clink lightly with his, smiling faintly. “I wish Lord Xie steady promotion, may you soon soar high and rise to great fortune.”
The corners of Xie Wuling’s lips curled upward, narrow eyes carrying a rakish smile as he looked at her: “Then I’ll borrow my little lady’s good words. When your man soars to fame and fortune, I’ll buy you a big house with two courtyards, and find you eight maids—one to cook, one to wash clothes, one to clean, one to care for the child, one to dress your hair…”
He counted out the uses of all eight maids one by one. Hearing such simple, “grand ambitions,” Shen Yujiao felt both amused and a little moved.
Cup after cup of daughter’s red went down, as she listened to him talk of the glory and wealth to come, and also of what errands he had done in service today.
By the time his ears were warm and her face was flushed, night had already fallen.
Just as Shen Yujiao was about to clear away the dishes, before she could rise, she suddenly gave a small cry.
Xie Wuling, chin propped in lazy indifference, was startled sober three parts by the sound. “What is it?”
Shen Yujiao lowered her head, gazing at her belly, her voice tinged with disbelief: “It… it seemed to move just now?”
Xie Wuling: “You mean little Xie just moved?”
Shen Yujiao gave a light hum, still uncertain: “It was like… a little fish nibbling, very faint.”
Xie Wuling said nothing, only stared at her belly with slightly tipsy eyes.
Because she was sitting, the gentle curve of her belly was more visible.
Being stared at so directly made Shen Yujiao uncomfortable; she shifted slightly and murmured: “Perhaps it was just my imagination… It’s late, you have duty tomorrow. Let’s clear the table.”
Xie Wuling didn’t move.
Shen Yujiao frowned in puzzlement. “Xie Wuling?”
His eyelids stirred; then he lifted them, dark eyes hazy yet intent: “Jiaoniang, let me listen?”
Shen Yujiao was taken aback, at first not understanding. When she realized his meaning, her pale face instantly flushed crimson. “Th-this won’t do.”
“Why not? I won’t do anything—just want to hear if it really moved.”
Xie Wuling said, “I’ve heard people say, once a child begins to move, if you speak to it, it can hear.”
Shen Yujiao was doubtful. “It’s so little—can it really understand?”
“Who cares if it understands? Let it get used to its father’s voice first.” He looked at her. “Don’t you want it to be close to me?”
Of course Shen Yujiao wanted the child, once born, to be close to Xie Wuling—after all, this child would one day call him father.
After a moment’s struggle, seeing the brightness and seriousness in the man’s dark eyes, without a trace of playfulness, Shen Yujiao bit her lip lightly and finally nodded. “Then… listen.”
She turned slightly toward him, slowly lifting her robe to reveal the slight swell of her belly.
Xie Wuling rose from the bench and crouched before her, lowering his head toward her abdomen.
Just before he touched, his face was stopped by a slender hand. “W-wait…”
Xie Wuling raised his eyes. “…?”
Shen Yujiao lowered her gaze to the man crouched before her. His frame was tall to begin with—even squatting, he loomed like a small mountain.
So close, she could almost feel the heat of his breath, mixed with the faint scent of wine clinging to him.
To really let him listen, leaning this close—it was far too intimate…
Seeing her unease, Xie Wuling’s dark eyes sank. “I promise I won’t move.”
“…”
Though he was a ruffian, when she met his gaze, Shen Yujiao felt an inexplicable trust.
Taking a deep breath, she withdrew her hand, lashes lowering. “Then… put your ear.”
Xie Wuling gave a husky hum, slid one arm around her waist from behind, and pressed his face to her belly.
Through the thin under-robe, his ear and half his cheek warmed against her soft belly, absorbing her body heat and her faint, delicate fragrance.
Perhaps it was the drink, but the fragrance seemed sweet, even tinged with a trace of milky scent.
So warm, so soft—his long fingers tightened around her waist, wishing he could press closer still…
“Do you… do you hear anything?”
Shen Yujiao’s fingers clenched the hem of her robe, peeking nervously at the man resting against her waist and belly, only feeling the whole thing indecorous, improper.
If her mother or her Momo ever found out—before the wedding she had lifted her robe and let a man press against her belly—they would surely scold her as frivolous, wanton, unchaste.
“Don’t speak yet,” Xie Wuling murmured with eyes closed.
“O-oh…”
Shen Yujiao pressed her lips together, lowering her eyes in silence.
The night was hazy, the candlelight dim, and time itself seemed to pause.
He listened, she watched—
Her attention, at first on his side-turned ear, gradually shifted. So close, she suddenly noticed how long his lashes were.
Thick and dark, each strand distinct. And his eyes were double-lidded, the crease not too shallow nor too deep, shaped like crescent moons. No wonder when he looked at people, there was always such warmth.
They say men with peach-blossom eyes are the most charming, the most amorous…
And his nose bridge—it was high, and straight too.
So straight she felt an urge to reach out and trace it with her finger.
Heavens above, what was she thinking.
Shen Yujiao’s heart gave a startled leap; she hurriedly banished those improper thoughts.
Looking again at the man resting by her legs—had he fallen asleep?
She frowned and spoke softly: “Xie Wuling?”
“Mm.” The man’s low, lazy voice sounded.
“Haven’t heard it yet?”
“I heard.” Xie Wuling still kept his eyes closed, the thin corners of his lips curling: “The little brat is moving, gurgling around.”
Shen Yujiao was astonished: “Really?”
“Why would I lie to you.” Xie Wuling rubbed against her belly, lowering his voice: “Xie Di, little Xie Di, can you hear your daddy talking? Daddy is your father. You stay well inside your mother’s belly. When you come into the world next year, Daddy will buy you sweets to eat.”
Shen Yujiao found it funny. She was about to say it couldn’t understand when suddenly her belly gave a light peck from within.
Her eyes flew wide open in shock: “It… it really seems to understand?”
Xie Wuling also felt that tiny movement just now, and laughed: “Looks like this little brat is greedy—just hearing about sweets makes him happy.”
He lifted his head, and to the round belly he said: “Don’t be anxious. As long as you behave, once you’re home, there’ll be sweets without end!”
Shen Yujiao looked at her belly, then at the man before her, and her heart softened.
When Xie Wuling rose to his feet, she slowly let down her hem, still wearing a faint smile between her brows and eyes.
Xie Wuling looked at her: “What are you smiling for?”
“Just suddenly felt… I’m rather lucky.”
“Mm?”
“Nothing.” Shen Yujiao shook her head, but the smile in her eyes only grew deeper, softer.
Though fate had toyed with her, leaving her family ruined and her life adrift, along the way she had also met many good people.
That guard who let her go in the forest, Granny Tao, Brother Tao, Sister Cuilan, the steamed bun shop owner, Aunt Liu, and—
Xie Wuling.
“Strange one.”
Xie Wuling frowned, seeing her curved eyes and silly grin, and couldn’t help but rub her head again: “Enough, go wash up. I’ll clear the table.”
Shen Yujiao glanced at the hair bun he had mussed, but didn’t argue with him.
Before returning to the bedchamber, she lifted her head and looked at the bright jade-disk moon hanging in the sky.
It was already mid-month.
Before long, it would be her and Xie Wuling’s wedding day.
Time truly passed fast. But her heart was no longer flustered and uneasy like before.
—
When the ninth month came, two bouts of autumn rain fell in drizzles, and the weather turned chill.
By day, when Xie Wuling was out on duty, Shen Yujiao stayed in the courtyard, doing a bit of housework, tending to the child, spending most of her idle time embroidering flowers or napping.
Every day when Xie Wuling came off duty, he would bring back all sorts of foods: today stewed chicken, tomorrow roast duck, the day after candied hawthorn or plum blossom cakes… People said in autumn one stores up for winter, and gradually, Shen Yujiao, like Ping’an, also put on some flesh.
Looking in the mirror, she was no longer the sallow, skin-and-bones figure of two months ago, like some starved ghost reborn. Her skin had turned smooth and luminous, like a pearl faintly glowing, her figure no longer thin—perhaps because of the pregnancy, the places that should be rounded had become more plump than before.
Even Aunt Liu, seeing her, praised her endlessly: “Ah Ling really has nourished you well. Look at that radiant glow—you’re clearly destined for a blessed life.”
Shen Yujiao herself also felt she seemed no longer quite the same as before. Whether in her state of mind or her appearance, she was calmer, laughed more easily, and of course… was increasingly less bound by rules—all thanks to being spoiled by Xie Wuling.
But this sort of “spoiling,” as things stood, seemed no bad thing at all.
Seeing the wedding day draw nearer, she hastened to embroider a pouch of twin lotuses on one stem, planning to present it to Xie Wuling on their wedding day as a token of her heart.
Suddenly, outside the window came the patter of raindrops.
Shen Yujiao paused her needlework, glancing sideways at the gray sky outside, her brows gently furrowing.
It was raining again.
She wondered if Xie Wuling was resting at the yamen just now, or out patrolling the streets…
Endless fine threads of rain, delicate as sorrow, silently veiled the bustling city of Jinling.
Outside the western gate, a troop of steeds came galloping through the drizzle.
As they paused for inspection before entering the city, the young man astride a black stallion gave a light sigh: “On the way it was still clear—didn’t expect that just as we crossed into Jinling’s borders, rain would fall. This Jinling city really shows no courtesy!”
The man slightly behind him on a white horse, wearing a rain hat, his brows and eyes open and unhurried, said evenly: “Luckily it’s only a light rain, not enough to make things too miserable.”
After a pause, he turned his face: “Your Highness, why not think of it this way—rainy days are good for keeping guests. Perhaps Jinling means to keep you a few days longer, to give you a proper welcome.”
The young man on the black horse was none other than the Second Prince, Sima Jin.
Ever since he had captured Zhang Ying alive and had him beheaded for public display, the stone weighing on his heart had been set down.
After leading the generals to recover yet another city, this suppression campaign could be said to have lived up to the emperor’s charge. As for the remaining matters—soothing the people, handling captives, sweeping the battlefield—he summoned the officials of Huainan’s various prefectures and counties for discussion, gave his orders, then packed his things and, with strategist Pei Xia and a squad of elite guards, set out quietly for Jinling.
Now, hearing Pei Xia’s words, the Second Prince laughed aloud: “Shouzhen, you’re right—this Jinling in the rain might just have a beauty of its own.”
Pei Xia only smiled faintly, his long fingers gathering the reins, raising his face to look at the towering city gate with its inscribed “Jinling” characters.
Veiled in rain mist, the strokes—perhaps worn by the passage of years—looked somewhat faded, adding a touch of aged grandeur.
Born in the northern lands, in his youth he had once slung a pack over his shoulders, sword at his side, traveling the world on horseback—but always heading west and north, to see the vast grasslands, the snowy mountains of the Gobi, the lone smoke of the desert.
The soft Wu dialect, little bridges and flowing water of the South—this was his very first time here.
Though his heart tugged with thoughts of family back home, such a chance to travel was rare. To linger a few days would do no harm.
As his thoughts drifted, the Second Prince at his side suddenly dropped his tone: “I didn’t expect the constables of Jinling to be so vile—broad daylight, and they actually bully beggars!”
Pei Xia turned his eyes, following the prince’s gaze.
There at the base of the city wall stood two knife-bearing constables, one tall, one short and fat. The tall one had one hand pressing on his saber, the other on his waist. Though it was only a side view, his expression and mouth shape clearly showed he was scolding a middle-aged beggar in rags on the ground.
Beside him sat several other beggars, all watching timidly.
No one knew what the beggar on the ground had said, but the tall constable suddenly lifted a foot and kicked the broken bowl in front of him flying.
The beggar paled with fright, knocking his head on the ground again and again, begging for mercy.
Seeing this, the Second Prince ground his teeth: “Such vile men—truly detestable! Our dynasty’s treasury silver is actually feeding such corrupt officials!”
He was just about to order a guard to intervene when Pei Xia said mildly: “Your Highness, no haste—watch a little longer.”
The Second Prince frowned: “What more is there to see? Any longer, that poor beggar will be bullied to death by those curs.”
Pei Xia did not answer, only calmly watched the somewhat chaotic scene beneath the wall.
The Second Prince glanced at his composed profile. Though doubtful, after these past months he had seen Pei Xia pull off stratagem after stratagem, wielding foresight and control, and had come to trust him.
Since Shouzhen said to watch, then… watch.
Suppressing his indignation, the Second Prince turned his gaze back to the base of the wall.
He saw the middle-aged beggar climb up, stumbling toward a hunchbacked old woman not far off. Under the tall constable’s watch, the beggar kowtowed to the old woman, then unwillingly pulled some coppers from his chest and tossed them into her cracked bowl.
Surprise flickered across the prince’s face.
After a moment’s silence, he called: “Rongqing, go see what’s going on.”
The eunuch Rongqing bowed, clamped his legs to his horse, and rode forward.
Meanwhile, the Second Prince saw the middle-aged beggar snatch up his bowl and run off spryly. The hunched old woman clutched her bowl, weeping and kowtowing to the constables.
The tall constable bent to help the old woman up, then after a moment’s hesitation drew a few coppers from his own waist and tossed them to her.
At that, the Second Prince could no longer mistake what was happening.
He rubbed his nose, meaning to call Rongqing back, but Rongqing had already gone far.
Turning to Pei Xia, he asked in puzzlement: “Shouzhen, how did you see that the constables weren’t doing evil?”
Pei Xia said quietly: “If they truly were bullying beggars, those others nearby would have long fled. How could they still sit and watch?”
The prince thought it over and realized it was indeed so.
Looking again toward the wall, he couldn’t help but laugh: “Seems my uncle has governed Jinling well. Even a mere constable shows such fairness and kindness. From small things one can see the larger—clearly the administration here is sound.”
Pei Xia’s brows moved slightly, but he gave no comment.
The gate captain checked their passes and quickly let them through.
The troop rode forward one by one. Soon Rongqing returned and reported: “Your Highness, this servant learned that the beggar earlier is long used to bullying others. Relying on his strength, he suppresses the other beggars and even takes advantage of that blind old woman, stealing coppers from her bowl. The constables were upholding justice for her.”
So that was the truth. The Second Prince felt a bit awkward, and with the corner of his eye glanced at Pei Xia.
But Pei Xia’s face was as calm as ever, betraying no hint of feeling. The prince coughed lightly and said: “Once again, Shouzhen, your eyes are like torches. I nearly mistook good men for villains.”
Pei Xia lowered his gaze: “A trifling matter. Your Highness overpraises.”
“Come, let’s go into the city.” The Second Prince tugged his horse forward through the gate.
Pei Xia looked at that resplendent scarlet figure, and a shadow passed through his eyes.
Just as he was about to ride on, he suddenly sensed a gaze too sharp to ignore.
His brow stirred; he turned to look.
There, under the wall, the tall constable in dark-blue uniform was staring fixedly their way.
Even through the fine rain, though his features couldn’t be made out, that upright, powerful frame and those burning, bright eyes stirred a strange discomfort.
Pei Xia thought a moment, and knew why—
A lowly constable, yet eyes ablaze with ambition far beyond his station.
“Shouzhen, what are you looking at?” came the Second Prince’s call ahead. “This rain looks set to pour harder—let’s hurry to the governor’s mansion.”
“Coming.”
Pei Xia answered evenly, shifting his gaze away from the constable, and gave a faint, dismissive smile.
Just a chance encounter with some petty underling, nothing more.
He pressed his legs to his horse, and galloped into the city, his white robe flying.
At the wall’s base, a petty clerk of the magistrate’s yamen, Wu Laosan, shivered as he went forward: “Brother Xie, what are you standing here dazing for? This rain’s awfully cold. Let’s hurry back to the yamen to hand over duty, then home for a meal!”
Xie Wuling stood in the fine drizzle, eyes shining as he recalled the retinue’s attire just now, and the strong, sleek stallions beneath them. From the heart he sighed: “Those horses—just one look and you can tell they’re fine steeds that could travel a thousand li in a day!”
Wu Laosan snorted: “Of course! Just look at them—you can tell those men are nobles of no ordinary status!”
Xie Wuling said, “One can only wonder how exhilarating it must be when that horse runs.”
“You want to ride that horse? Oh my, you really dare to dream! That horse is worth at least a thousand in gold. Even if the two of us were sold together, we couldn’t afford it!”
Wu Laosan sneered, then urged him on: “Enough, enough, hurry back and take your shift. I’m so cold my gooseflesh is coming out.”
Xie Wuling slowly drew back his gaze, a lazy smile tugging at his lips: “You’re not my old man, so how would you know I won’t rise to glory someday, and ride a steed like that?”
“Yes, yes, when Lord Xie soars to fortune and honor, don’t forget your elder brother. Let me borrow that fine horse for two laps!”
“Easily said, easily done!”
“Speaking of which, aren’t you to be married in a few days?”
“Yes, the twenty-eighth of the ninth month. Elder brother, don’t forget to come drink my wedding wine.”
“Of course, of course.”
One tall, one short—two figures walked toward the towering city gate.
The sky was pale and thin, rain and mist drifting endlessly—just the chill of autumn.
