That familiar voice came through the bridal veil, freezing Shen Yujiao in place.
She thought it an illusion, but the strong hand tightly holding hers, with its warmth and force, told her all too clearly—it was no illusion.
Pei Xia had come.
He had come to find her—at her wedding with Xie Wuling.
Her mind plunged into chaos, doubts and confusion surging through her chest, mixed with panic, guilt, helplessness…
“You b*stard, let go of my wife!”
Xie Wuling’s furious roar exploded, followed by the gusting sound of a fist cutting through the air.
Shen Yujiao felt herself yanked back by the strength on her wrist, then heard a dull thud. Most likely Pei Xia had blocked the punch—for his grip never loosened.
The clash of steel rang out on both sides, along with a sharp voice: “Quick, stop that scoundrel!”
The sudden upheaval jolted Shen Yujiao back to her senses. No longer caring for omens, she tore off her bridal veil.
“Stop! Everyone, stop!”
With no veil to block her sight, she saw the scene clearly—the once festive courtyard was now in chaos. Soldiers with blades pressed forward, grim-faced. Guests ran in panic, trembling.
And right before her stood Pei Xia, in an ivory-white robe, his hand still tightly gripping her wrist, his refined brows and eyes grave. “Yuniang, it truly is you.”
At that very instant, Xie Wuling—dressed in bright red wedding robes—stepped up, gripping her other hand firmly: “Jiaojiao, don’t be afraid.”
Two men, left and right, each holding one of her hands. The world seemed to still, save for the silent, explosive tension spreading between them. Shen Yujiao’s temples throbbed violently.
And all around, countless eyes stared at them, prickling like needles against her skin—she wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and escape this place of strife.
Drawing a long breath, she forced down the panic and confusion in her heart. Raising her black eyes, her gaze shifted between the two men before finally landing on Pei Xia: “Brother Shouzhen, let me go first.”
She addressed him—Brother Shouzhen.
Pei Xia’s gaze darkened slightly. Meeting those limpid eyes, clear as a mountain stream, and seeing the trace of difficulty and embarrassment within them, he at last loosened her wrist.
Shen Yujiao secretly let out a breath, then turned her face toward Xie Wuling: “You too. Let go.”
Xie Wuling was unwilling, lips twisting: “Why should I? You’re my wife.”
Shen Yujiao frowned: “Xie Wuling.”
Xie Wuling: “…Fine.”
In the end, afraid of angering his little bride, he obediently let go.
Casting another glance at the white-robed man, his eyes narrowed. Jiaojiao had called him brother. Could this man be her elder brother from far-off Lingnan?
But his forceful entrance, practically a snatching of the bride, hardly looked like someone here to share in wedding wine.
“Jiaojiao, who is he?” Xie Wuling asked.
Shen Yujiao was stifled.
How could she answer that?
Feeling the two men’s gazes bore into her, one on each side as though scorching holes into her cheeks, she clenched her palms. This couldn’t go on.
Drawing in a steadying breath, she turned away from the both of them and addressed the mortified, stiff-seated Sixth Master Chang: “Sixth Master, may I trouble you to see our guests out.”
After a pause, her glance swept across Xie Wuling: “And by the way, keep an eye on him. Don’t let him act rashly.”
Though Sixth Master Chang considered himself seasoned by wind and waves, such a scene he had never encountered in all his years. But seeing the young woman calmly entrust him so, he gathered himself and quickly nodded: “Alright… alright…”
Shen Yujiao offered him a grateful look, then turned, steadied her mind, and lifted her face to Pei Xia: “Brother Shouzhen, it has been many days. Will you speak with me?”
Pei Xia lowered his eyes. Seeing her lovely brows and eyes masked with forced composure, he was silent for a long moment before finally saying: “Alright.”
Shen Yujiao glanced around. The courtyard was too small, packed with people. The only place left where they could speak quietly was that bedchamber—
“Let’s go inside to talk.”
As she spoke, she added, “All the guests here today are innocent people. I ask that Brother Shouzhen not harm a single one of them—let them return home.”
Pei Xia’s gaze swept over those faces, pale with fear. His brows knit slightly, then he turned toward Qingrong, who stood to the side in gray-blue eunuch garb: “Eunuch Wang, let them go.”
Qingrong clasped his hands. “Since Young Lord Pei has spoken, this servant will obey.”
Saying so, he casually pointed at one of the armored soldiers, his sharp voice rising: “Go fetch some paper and ink. Write down the names of each person here. Once they’ve signed and pressed their seals, they may return home.”
The soldier acknowledged and hurried to arrange it.
Shen Yujiao understood at once—this was to keep a record. If word of today’s events in the courtyard ever spread, they would trace it back through that registry, questioning each name until the loose tongue was found and punished.
Seeing how meticulous this eunuch was, how thorough in handling matters, she knew he could not be an ordinary man.
But when had Pei Xia ever come to have a eunuch by his side? And these armored troops—surely not men he should have authority to command…
Her heart brimmed with questions, but she had no time to ponder further before Pei Xia called to her: “Yuniang.”
Shen Yujiao pulled herself back and nodded. “Mn. Let’s go inside—there.”
She lifted her hand slightly, pointing to the bedchamber draped in red silk and pasted with the great red wedding character—
—the bridal chamber she shared with Xie Wuling.
Pei Xia walked slowly over, and when he pushed open the door to see the room within, blazing with brighter, more dazzling red, it felt blinding to his eyes.
Shen Yujiao avoided his gaze and instead glanced back at the tall man in scarlet wedding robes standing in the courtyard. He too was staring straight at her.
Their eyes met. Xie Wuling strode two quick steps forward: “Jiaojiao.”
But Sixth Master Chang quickly grabbed him, holding him back.
Shen Yujiao curved her lips at him. “It’s all right.”
Seeing her force that smile, Xie Wuling felt as if something had struck his chest.
Beneath his crimson robes his fist clenched tight. Gritting his teeth, he said, “I’ll be right outside. If he dares touch you even a little, just call for me. Even if it costs me my life today, I’ll fight them to the end!”
Shen Yujiao opened her mouth to say more, but beside her Pei Xia’s voice rang out, cold and resonant as gold on jade: “Yuniang, inside.”
Her long lashes quivered slightly. Shen Yujiao turned her head; all she caught was the man’s indifferent profile.
Most likely he was growing impatient—or… was it anger burning in his chest?
His thoughts had always been deep and unreadable, unlike Xie Wuling, whose every emotion showed plain on his face. So she chose not to dwell, and followed him inside.
The door closed. No lamps were lit within; only a faint, dim light spilled through the window.
Looking at Pei Xia standing with his hands clasped behind him, his bearing wholly out of place in this room, Shen Yujiao suddenly realized how small the chamber truly was—
She remembered when she had first awakened here, she too had felt it cramped. But after a while she’d grown used to it, and it no longer seemed small.
Stepping slowly to the table, she deftly picked up the fire-striker.
For the wedding, the plain lamp had been put away in the storeroom; on the table stood instead a pair of thick red dragon-and-phoenix wedding candles.
Shen Yujiao knew lighting them now was hardly appropriate, but with no other candles at hand, she had no choice but to grit her teeth and light them.
The room quickly grew bright—red wedding canopy, red sheets and bedding, red paper-cuts of double happiness on the windows, red dragon-and-phoenix candles. Everywhere was red, dazzling and radiant, bursting with festive joy.
She had thought the awkwardness of tonight would be in sharing this new room with Xie Wuling.
Never had she imagined it would be sitting in silence, face-to-face with her former husband.
Her pale fingers tugged at her wedding robe. After a brief hesitation, Shen Yujiao raised her eyes toward the white-robed gentleman who still stood. “Brother Shouzhen, sit down and let’s talk.”
Pei Xia swept his gaze over the small but carefully arranged chamber. His eyes lingered briefly on the bench by the desk. His lips pressed together, and at last he walked over, lifted his robe, and sat.
Shen Yujiao also sat opposite him.
For some reason, when those deep, narrow eyes rested quietly on her, a sudden pang of guilt welled in her chest.
But what cause had she to feel guilty?
Was it her choice to wander in exile, lost in foreign lands? Was it her wish to be without a home, to marry another? Was she the one who broke trust and turned her back on him?
No. She had done no wrong to him. She had no reason to feel guilt.
If anything… it was the Pei family who—
Shen Yujiao had thought herself calm by now. But when she recalled that stormy night, a dagger at her throat, her life hanging by a thread—when she recalled the terror of being abandoned in the woods alone, the floods, the plague, the exhaustion, the hunger, the illness, the constant fear along the road—
A tide of emotions surged violently in her chest. Her hands resting on her knees trembled faintly.
When she lifted her head again, her eyes were rimmed with red, her voice choking—
“How did you find this place?”
“How did you end up like this?”
The two voices sounded almost at the same time. Both were startled into stillness.
When his gaze touched her tear-brimmed eyes, Pei Xia’s own eyes flickered. He reached into his robe and took out a handkerchief, holding it out to her: “Yuniang, there’s no need to be afraid anymore.”
Shen Yujiao looked at the clean silken square. After a moment’s hesitation, she accepted it. “I’m not afraid.”
There was nothing to fear.
Had it been any other of the Pei clan who came today, perhaps she would have feared. But the man before her was Pei Shouzhen.
She trusted him, respected him, and knew he would not harm her.
Watching her dab at the corners of her eyes, Pei Xia spoke unhurriedly, recounting what had happened.
Learning that it was Sixth Niangzi of the Cui Prefect’s household who had recognized her, Shen Yujiao was stunned for quite a while.
At the Spring Banquet of Duke Ying’s estate, back when her family had not yet fallen, she had indeed attended.
But as for this Sixth Niangzi of the Cui family—she had no memory of such a person.
She had never thought that by such a small and chance detail, everything would unravel.
Shen Yujiao sat in a daze for a long moment.
Pei Xia did not press her. He only looked quietly at her beneath the glow of the dragon-and-phoenix wedding candles: dressed in crimson, brows finely drawn, lips tinted, exquisitely beautiful.
Vaguely, it was as though he had returned to their bridal night of the previous year.
She had also been dressed in red then. Only that time her eyes had been full of shyness, her lashes lowered, not daring to look at him.
And yet he had caught her stealing glances at him more than once—her gaze under the candlelight shining bright, as though filled with stars.
Shen Yujiao of the Shen clan was his wife, Pei Xia’s wife.
From beginning to end, beyond all doubt.
“Brother Shouzhen…”
The soft call drew back his wandering thoughts. Pei Xia lifted his gaze to the woman sitting across from him.
That form of address was not wrong, yet after they had married, she had almost never called him that again. Most often she called him “Langjun.”
And now—she no longer called him langjun.
This awareness pressed a strange suffocation into Pei Xia’s chest, though he showed nothing on his face. Calmly he answered, “I am here.”
Across the flicker of the dragon-and-phoenix candles, Shen Yujiao looked at him, the dark of her eyes shimmering—was it firelight, or was it tears? “As you already know, in the fifth month, the household declared me dead…”
She paused, the corner of her lips twisting into a mocking arc. “What fortune—that I should witness my own funeral.”
Pei Xia pressed his thin lips tight, then after a moment murmured hoarsely, “What happened, tell me without concealment. No matter what it is, I will stand for you.”
Stand for her?
Shen Yujiao’s eyes flickered. She did not doubt his fairness, only…
Forget it. It had to be spoken clearly.
She steadied her heart, and at last recounted everything from the time she had been moved to Miaoan Hall onward.
The crimson bridal chamber seemed cut off from the outside world, leaving only her calm narration and the occasional crackle of the candle flame.
When she came to the part about drifting into Jinling, and being found by Xie Wuling at the earth temple, Pei Xia spoke heavily: “Enough.”
Shen Yujiao looked toward him.
Pei Xia’s face was calm, yet his brows and eyes carried a weighty, tangled gloom. His deep black gaze fixed upon her. “Yuniang, it is my fault.”
Shen Yujiao started. “How can this be blamed on you… I—I never once blamed you…”
At most she blamed Madam Wang for being so ruthless, and her own ill fate. If her family had not collapsed, how could she have been driven into such misery?
“You should blame me.”
Pei Xia said, “I was your husband, yet I failed to protect you, and caused you to suffer so many hardships.”
Thinking of the plague, the midwifery, the famine she had mentioned so lightly—his long fingers curled tight on his knees. Pei Xia shut his eyes heavily.
When he opened them again, he asked: “Since you came to Jinling, why did you not seek me in Huainan?”
Shen Yujiao was silent for two breaths. Then: “Seek you for what? The Pei clan’s principal wife is already dead… then let her be dead.”
Pei Xia’s brows drew taut. “What do you mean by this?”
Shen Yujiao pressed her lips together. After a brief pause, she rose, walked to stand before him, and bent her knees as if to bow.
Before they touched the ground, his hands caught her fast. His brows furrowed deeper. “Yuniang, what are you doing?”
She was no match for his strength. Pulled back up, she steadied herself—only to realize how close they now stood. She could even smell the faint sandalwood clinging to his robes. Unconsciously, she stepped back.
Seeing her deliberate distance, Pei Xia’s gaze hardened.
They were husband and wife; it should not be like this.
“Brother Shouzhen.”
“Yuniang, don’t call me that.” Pei Xia straightened, his narrow eyes locked deep onto hers. “I am your husband, not your elder brother.”
Shen Yujiao’s heart trembled, but she forced herself to meet his eyes. “The Pei clan’s principal wife is dead. Your wife, Shen of the Shen clan, is already buried on Mang Mountain. The world knows you, Pei Shouzhen, as a widower.”
“Brother Shouzhen, that you would come to seek me, and are willing to stand up for me—I am grateful. But ever since the day I watched my own funeral procession pass before me, I resolved that from then on, Shen Yujiao was dead. The kindness you showed my family—I will repay it with my life. From this day forth, we owe each other nothing. Each of us will live well in our own way…”
She tried to control her emotions, but as she spoke, tears filled her eyes. “Just take today as though you never saw me. Go back and live your life.”
Hearing the farewell in her words, Pei Xia felt that suffocating pressure in his chest grow heavier, tightening his throat.
“Yuniang, I know you have suffered the greatest wrongs beneath heaven.”
After a moment’s silence, Pei Xia stepped forward and drew her shoulders into his embrace. “Since I know you live, how could I possibly let this matter be brushed aside? If you still trust me, once we return, I will see you get justice.”
Feeling the gentleness of his arms, Shen Yujiao trembled. For one instant, it was as though she were back in those tender days half a year ago.
But the glaring red all around jolted her awake. She pulled away from his embrace, tears brimming as she looked at him. “Justice? The one who harmed me was your mother! You may be a man of fairness and integrity, but she is the widowed mother who raised you with hardship. In this dynasty, filial piety is paramount. If you, in the name of righteousness, punish her, what will become of your career? Other than me, no one will praise you for great righteousness in punishing your own kin. They will only say you are cold-blooded, lust-addled, that for the sake of a wife you defied your widowed mother! Brother Shouzhen—it is not worth it, truly not worth it…”
“Let it be so. I don’t blame you, truly I don’t.”
Shen Yujiao said: “I’m doing well as I am now. Xie Wuling treats me very well, and he treats Ping’an well too. He has proper work at the yamen now, and he promised me he will strive to improve himself.”
Pei Xia saw her stepping back, and heard in her words her unwillingness to return with him. His brows furrowed deeper.
“Is it that you don’t want me trapped between filial duty and righteousness, or is it that you cannot part with that scoundrel outside?”
Shen Yujiao was struck dumb for a moment, unable to answer.
Her heart grew muddled and chaotic, unable to tell clear from confused.
Pei Xia, seeing her stunned and silent, eased his gaze slightly, and said: “If it’s the former, you need not worry. If it truly was Mother who committed such a deed, she should naturally be judged by clan law. Only…”
His dark eyes narrowed. “Yuniang, can you be certain that the person behind it all is my mother?”
Shen Yujiao’s lashes trembled. Knowing his words were calm discussion, she answered truthfully: “I do not wish to believe it… but apart from Madam, who else in the household would deal such a ruthless hand? And if it weren’t with Madam’s consent, who in the household would dare rush the funeral so quickly?”
Pei Xia felt there must be more to this, but since they had not returned to the household, everything was still conjecture.
“Yuniang, you are my wife. That is a fact no one can change.”
He looked at her, his deep voice calm: “Since I said I will give you an explanation, I will not break my word.”
Shen Yujiao saw that he still intended to take her away. Her heart felt as though a stone pressed upon it, tangled like a knot of threads.
In the past, when Madam Wang said his nature was stubborn, she had not thought much of it. But now, seeing him standing upright in righteousness, vowing to demand justice for her, she truly found him too obstinate!
The clan-wife of the Pei family was already buried in the ground. If he were to bring a ‘dead woman’ back, what would that even be?
Besides, in the Pei household she had always been unwelcome, repressed on every side. Living outside—though poor—was freer.
“Brother Shouzhen, if I were to say it is the latter?”
Shen Yujiao bit her lip, casting aside her reserve, and looked at him: “I married Xie Wuling of my own will. The fate between you and me is ended. I hope you can fulfill me and him.”
As the words fell, the usually cool and composed Pei heir’s pale face froze for an instant.
His always virtuous and dignified wife, in just half a year, was ready to forsake him for another man.
“I do not need you to win justice for me. If you truly wish to make amends, then fulfill me and Xie Wuling. From now on, whether I live or die, whether good or ill, it will have nothing to do with you.”
“…”
“Brother Shouzhen, you are a gentleman.”
Shen Yujiao said: “A gentleman completes the beauty of others, he does not destroy it. After all, when you married me last year, it was to keep your promise. I am grateful to you, and will always remain grateful.”
The dim yellow candlelight flickered. The two, once husband and wife, gazed at each other in silence.
Hearing her words, Pei Xia felt a confusion in his heart he had never known before.
What she said was true—since he was a gentleman, he should fulfill her wish.
He had married her also to uphold a gentleman’s promise.
Now that even she, the wronged one, did not wish to pursue the past, what was he holding on to?
Another sharp crackle from the candlewick. Pei Xia lowered his head and glanced at his chest.
That tight suffocation was accompanied by a faint, dull ache.
After a long moment, he lifted his eyes, his voice hoarse: “I can be a gentleman and fulfill you both. But have you thought of your parents and brothers far away in Lingnan?”
Shen Yujiao’s face changed, staring blankly at him.
Pei Xia said: “For my service in quelling the rebellion, I had planned to use my military merit to ask His Majesty for a chance to redress your father and brothers.”
He… he had remembered to seek redress for her father and brothers.
Shen Yujiao’s heart swirled with mixed feelings, pounding rapidly. To clear her father and brothers’ name—that had always been her deepest wish.
Her chest heaved violently. She forced down her excitement, looking at him: “Brother Shouzhen, is this a bribe?”
Pei Xia: “…”
Shen Yujiao said: “If it isn’t a bribe, then even if I refuse to return with you, knowing there is injustice, would you really fold your arms and ignore it?”
At her retort, Pei Xia was silenced.
He looked at this wife of his, who had never before shown such a sharp tongue: “Are you so certain I would act?”
Shen Yujiao nodded, her dark eyes firm: “Because you are Pei Shouzhen. You are a gentleman.”
This certainty, this trust, left Pei Xia speechless.
And for the first time in his life, he felt doubt in the gentleman’s path he had always upheld.
“Brother Shouzhen, I know you are a good man. To have been your wife, I… I do not regret it.”
Shen Yujiao straightened her body, and gave him a deep bow: “But once fate is exhausted, it is exhausted. Now that I am wed to Xie Wuling, I am his wife. You are gifted, outstanding, refined; surely you will find another good woman to settle your household and carry on your line.”
As the words fell, she suddenly felt his gaze on her turn heavier.
Shen Yujiao froze. Just as she sensed something amiss, the tall man stepped forward, his eyes falling directly upon her waist and belly hidden beneath the wide wedding robes. His voice was hoarse and low: “Yuniang, a gentleman would not let his wife, carrying his own child, marry another man.”
Shen Yujiao’s face went pale, then flushed, then pale again.
Startled that he had seen through it, baffled that he could be so certain the child was his.
She stumbled back two steps, turned her face aside, and denied quickly: “This child… this child is not yours.”
Pei Xia said: “Then whose is it?”
“It’s… Xie Wuling’s.”
“Do you dare stretch out your hand, and let me take your pulse?”
Shen Yujiao’s brow twitched—she had forgotten that Pei Xia usually read medical texts and knew a little of medicine.
If he were to take her pulse, once the months of the child were felt, no denial could hold.
Pei Xia, seeing her reaction, also knew that the child in her belly was indeed his.
The gloom that had weighed on his chest seemed as if a breeze had blown through, finding a way out.
A gentleman must provide for his own wife and child—how could he hand them over to another?
His brows eased, and he walked toward Shen Yujiao. Seeing her head bowed in silence, he raised his hand and once again drew her into his arms.
“We have a child.”
Lowering his head, his chin resting against her soft hair, his voice was warm and gentle: “Yuniang, you have suffered.”
Shen Yujiao leaned blankly in his embrace, her mind muddled, her heart awash with feelings too tangled to name.
Until the man’s long palm brushed against her belly. She lowered her eyes, and suddenly found it laughable.
Back then, it had been Xie Wuling who had persuaded her to keep this child.
Who would have thought, today, it had become the reason Pei Xia refused to let go—the cause of her parting from Xie Wuling.
