Song of the Bright Moon Chapter 37

Madam Yang had already been informed by her maid, so when Shen Yujiao and Pei Xia entered together and paid their respects, she quickly set down her teacup and answered with a warm smile, “No need for so many formalities.”

Casting a glance at her daughter seated below, she said, “Ah Yin, why are you sitting there in a daze? Quickly greet Young Master Pei and Madam Pei.”

Cui Wenyin truly was dazed.

Though she had secretly seen Shen Yujiao once yesterday at the inn, the wedding gown had been wide and layered, and she had not noticed at all that Shen Yujiao was pregnant!

This child… whose was it? Pei Xia’s, or Xie Wuling’s?

Full of questions, she rose to pay respects. Pei Xia and Shen Yujiao courteously returned the greeting.

Once all were seated, Madam Yang looked Shen Yujiao up and down. Seeing her comportment dignified, neither restless nor arrogant, the older woman’s well-kept face softened with a hint of maternal affection. She spoke kindly with her for a time, and in the end sighed with feeling: “Blessing and misfortune go hand in hand. After bitterness comes sweetness. Having endured this great trial, from here on your days will surely be smooth, your blessings long-lasting.”

Shen Yujiao never would have thought that Madam Cui would be so warm and kind, with not the slightest trace of condescension in her words and manner.

The worry she’d carried before coming gradually eased. Her brows and eyes relaxed a little as she softly replied, “Then I’ll borrow Madam’s auspicious words.”

“No need to be so formal,” Madam Yang said with a smile. “The moment I saw you, I felt we were fated. You’re about the same age as my Yinyin. Never mind Her Ladyship wanting to take you as a goddaughter—even I want to take you as my daughter… But we’re all one family anyway. In the future, when you call Her Ladyship godmother and me aunt, it will be just as close.”

As soon as these words came out, not only Shen Yujiao, but even Cui Wenyin across from them was stunned.

Only Madam Yang and Pei Xia remained composed—one smiling kindly, the other calm and at ease—as though this were the most ordinary thing in the world.

Shen Yujiao was dazed, instinctively turning her gaze toward the man beside her, who was calmly sipping tea.

The moment she looked over, he also lifted his lids and met her eyes with quiet steadiness.

That brief exchange of glances told Shen Yujiao everything.

This was his arrangement.

Given Madam Yang’s status, the “Her Ladyship” she spoke of could only be none other than Consort Xian, the longest-standing consort in the palace.

Consort Xian wanted to take her as a goddaughter? Shen Yujiao’s heart gave a fierce thump. It felt so unreal, like a dream.

In just one night, Pei Xia had found her such a powerful backer?

This was the consort praised throughout the entire palace, on par with the empress herself.

Shen Yujiao’s head was in a fog. Whatever Madam Yang said after that, she scarcely heard. She only kept a dignified smile on her face, nodding and echoing now and then.

After all, it was their first meeting, and they didn’t know each other well. As the conversation waned, Madam Yang timely instructed the Momo at her side to present a gift.

“You and Lord Pei came as guests to our residence, and I ought to hold a grand banquet in your honor. But you’re heavy with child, and I fear the crowd might jostle you, so I gave up that thought.”

Madam Yang signaled with her eyes toward an exquisite red-lacquered carved gift box. “In two days, you and Lord Pei will be returning to Luoyang. The mountains and rivers are long between us, and who knows when we’ll meet again. This is just a small token from me, as your aunt.”

When her words fell, the Momo opened the box.

Laid on shimmering gold silk was a dazzling longevity-lock necklace. The vivid red gemstones set against the refined, ornate cloisonné workmanship shone with brilliant light. One glance was enough to see it was of extraordinary value.

The lavish gift made Shen Yujiao uneasy. “This is far too courteous of you.”

Madam Yang smiled. “A gift from an elder must not be refused. If you don’t accept it, you’ll make me feel you mean to keep me at a distance.”

Since she’d said it so plainly, Shen Yujiao could no longer decline. Rising with a respectful bow, she curtsied and said, “Many thanks… many thanks, Aunt.”

Seeing that she was perceptive and sensible, Madam Yang’s smile deepened with genuine warmth. “Good child, quickly rise.”

They lingered for another half a cup of tea before Pei Xia took Shen Yujiao to make their farewells.

As soon as the young couple had left, Cui Wenyin, who’d been holding back a stomachful of questions, immediately crowded up to Madam Yang’s side, tugging at her arm and asking eagerly, “Mother, what on earth is going on?”

Madam Yang gave her a sidelong glance but did not answer right away. She calmly lifted her teacup and took a slow sip.

When the Second Prince had informed her and her husband of this matter before his departure that very morning, asking for their full support, she too had been startled.

But on second thought, Pei Xia truly was a rare talent. Since her own nephew valued him so highly—enough to even use Consort Xian’s name to protect Madam Pei—then as the Cui family, standing on the same side as the Second Prince, of course they would follow his wishes and extend the favor.

From now on, the Cui clan, the Yang clan, the Pei clan, and Consort Xian with her son would share both honor and loss together.

The sweetness of the tea lingered on her tongue. Madam Yang gathered her thoughts, then looked again at her youngest daughter’s clear, questioning eyes. She tapped her on the forehead with a finger. “All you need to know is that your aunt will be taking Lady Pei as a goddaughter. As for the rest, don’t ask. In any case, in two days they’ll be leaving Jinling, and what happens after has nothing to do with you.”

Cui Wenyin covered her forehead, muttering in puzzlement, “Can’t I even ask?”

Madam Yang swept her with a stern glance.

Cui Wenyin sullenly lowered her eyes. “Fine, I won’t ask, I won’t ask…”

Mother still treated her like a child.

The autumn wind brushed past. A dusky yellow leaf, like a dead-leaf butterfly, spun and drifted down onto the damp paving stones.

“What did you promise His Highness the Second Prince?”

Back at the guest courtyard, before even entering the room, Shen Yujiao halted, lifting her face to look at the man beside her.

Pei Xia also stopped, slowly lowering his eyes.

Under the dim sky, his wife’s delicate brows and dark eyes, touched with light makeup, were like a brush painting—graceful and refined. Yet in her gaze there lingered a cloud of sorrow that would not disperse, like ink spreading on wet paper.

He knew she had always been sharp-witted. He did not hide it, but told her of his arrangement, and added, “I promised him that in this lifetime, I will be at his service, to aid him in ruling the realm.”

Even though she had prepared herself in her heart, hearing him say it aloud still made Shen Yujiao’s heart sink.

For a long while, her lips moved. “Is he the wise ruler in your heart?”

“His Highness the Second Prince is loyal and kind.”

“But is he the wise ruler you truly want?”

Shen Yujiao pressed again, her fine brows drawn tight, determined to get an answer.

From her clear black eyes, as bright as a mirror, Pei Xia saw his own reflection.

At length, he pulled his lips into a faint smile, part release, part resignation. “To be open to advice—that is enough.”

Hearing his reply, Shen Yujiao seemed to deflate. Her slender shoulders drooped. “You don’t have to do this for my sake.”

She knew of his ambitions—and knew, too, that his heart was like a polished mirror, unstained by dust…

“Yuniang, you don’t need to blame yourself.”

Pei Xia lifted two long, slender fingers and gently smoothed the crease between her brows. His voice was even: “Husband and wife are one. You are my wife—your reputation is my reputation. Besides, it was I who failed to protect you this time, which led to such a mistake. Remedying my error has nothing to do with you. You need not feel guilty, nor should you worry.”

Though he said this, how could Shen Yujiao truly feel no burden at all?

The brow he had just smoothed furrowed again. She looked at him. “As for the Second Prince… are you certain?”

As a woman of the inner quarters, she should not have spoken on matters of state. But the political scene now was shifting and treacherous, like mist-covered waves. One sneeze from those above could mean a storm of annihilation for those below.

The torment of waiting in prison, trembling for fear of the executioner’s blade, was something she would never forget in this lifetime.

“He may not be a sage-king who governs heaven and earth, but he has the makings of a benevolent and worthy ruler.”

Pei Xia did not wish her to trouble herself over this. Fixing his gaze on her, his eyes clear and steady, he asked, “Yuniang, do you trust me?”

The answer in Shen Yujiao’s heart came almost without hesitation.

“I do.”

She had never doubted anything Pei Xia resolved to do.

Perhaps from that moment in early autumn last year, when he had come riding hard to her side, the seed of absolute trust in him had already been planted in her heart.

If Pei Shouzhen set himself to do something, there was nothing he could not accomplish.

Seeing in her eyes that pure, unreserved trust, Pei Xia’s heart softened.

His wife—she was still willing to believe in him.

“Since you’re willing to trust me, then set your heart at ease.”

A faint smile, even he himself did not notice, stirred in his eyes as he took her hand and led her toward the room. “It’s already midday. Let’s eat together.”

Shen Yujiao followed him inside. As the maids lifted the curtain for them, she turned her head to glance at the gray, hazy sky.

By now, Ping’an should be on his way back too, shouldn’t he?

—

“You want to take my son away? No way! Hiss—”

“Boss, oh heavens, look at you, just lie down already!!”

Wildcat hurriedly pushed back onto the bed the bruised and battered Xie Wuling, whose hands and feet were wrapped in bandages, his once-handsome face swollen and blotched, half of it puffed up like a pig’s head. “Old Li said it himself—you need complete rest! Absolutely no moving around!”

That sudden attempt to sit up had made Xie Wuling feel as though every bone in his body had split apart. He sucked in two sharp breaths of cold air, then, face dark, glared at Jinglin, who had come bearing lavish gifts. His tone was hard: “Go back and tell that Pei fellow, don’t mistake my tolerance for weakness. Yesterday he stole my wife, today he comes to steal my son. Gentleman, my *ss—he’s nothing but a shameless bandit!”

Seeing him beaten to such a state and yet still daring to insult his lord, Jinglin couldn’t help but grow angry. “Truly a dog biting Lu Dongbin, unable to recognize good intentions! If not for our lord and Master Cui interceding for you this morning, just for the crime of breaking into the governor’s manor at night, you’d have been executed a hundred times over. You wouldn’t even have a life left to spout such wild words!”

Remembering how the governor’s servants had captured and thrashed him the night before, Xie Wuling’s eyes darkened.

Looking again at Jinglin’s lofty, condescending manner, he stiffened his neck and sneered. “Did I beg your lord to save me? He’d better have the guts to kill me outright! If Jiaojiao knew I was beaten to death, she’d remember me all her life! That way, I wouldn’t have lost out!”

Such brazen scoundrel’s logic nearly made Jinglin laugh in fury. “And what do you think you are, that you deserve to be remembered by our young lady for a lifetime? Let me tell you the truth—if not for our lord’s kindness and benevolence, he has a hundred ways to make you disappear, and our lady would never even know.”

He wanted to curse further, but thought better of wasting words on such a man—it was only degrading himself.

With a wave of his hand, he signaled the guards behind him to carry in the lavish gifts. “In any case, since you once helped our lady, this is our household’s token of gratitude.”

As he spoke, he set down the gift list and an appointment document on the table. “From now on, you and our household are even. Do not entangle yourself further.”

Xie Wuling, his leg and arm fractured from last night’s beating, was now bedridden and unable to move. He could only open his mouth to curse. “Like h*ll I want your filthy money! Wildcat, throw all this cr*p out!”

Wildcat stared at the boxes draped with red silk one after another being carried in, and at the heavy case on the table—gold or silver, he couldn’t tell—and involuntarily swallowed. “Boss, this… well, no matter what, it’s still their goodwill…”

Had Boss been beaten silly?!

People couldn’t be kept, but at least things could be kept, right?

“You b*stard, you’re not even listening to me anymore?” Xie Wuling was furious. When he tried to sit up, the sharp pain in his back and waist sent him crashing heavily back onto the bed. Rage made him want to pound the mattress.

Jinglin, seeing this, curled his lips in mockery, then turned his gaze toward Wildcat. “I can see you’re more sensible. Tell me sooner where the child is, and I can bring him back and report.”

Wildcat: “This…”

Xie Wuling: “Don’t you dare!”

Wildcat froze, his face full of unease. Turning to look at the man on the bed, he asked in puzzlement, “Boss, but that child isn’t even yours. What are you keeping him for?”

If Xie Wuling still had any strength left, he would have thrashed Wildcat on the spot. But with pain wracking his whole body, he could only smolder with rage, grinding out, “You know nothing. His name is Xie Tian—he bears my surname. That makes him my son!”

Hearing this, Wildcat broke into a sweat.

Could it be that Lady Shen was some kind of fox-spirit enchantress? Otherwise, how could his clear-headed, money-loving boss have been bewitched to the point of losing all sense?

Not long after, Ping’an was still found by the men Jinglin had brought.

Aunt Liu came in holding the child, trembling with unease. Looking at Xie Wuling, she said, ashamed and awkward, “Ah Ling, the baby’s hungry, he’s been crying and crying…”

The two courtyards were close to each other, so it hadn’t taken long for them to be caught.

Hearing the baby’s incessant wails, Jinglin shot a glance at the wet nurse he had brought along.

The full-bosomed woman stepped toward Aunt Liu and spoke gently: “Give him to me.”

Aunt Liu hesitated and looked to Xie Wuling.

Xie Wuling saw how pitifully the child was crying, and in the end couldn’t bear it. He muttered, “Fine.”

The little one didn’t understand anything yet—why torment him?

Besides, what future could the boy have if he stayed with him?

But if he went back with Jiaojiao to that great aristocratic household, he’d have fine food and clothes, gold and jade, the chance to study and learn proper rites… perhaps even one day sit the imperial exams and become a xiucai or juren.

Aunt Liu passed the baby over. The wet nurse felt the child’s belly and said to Jinglin, “The young master is terribly hungry. Let me feed him a little before we set out?”

Hearing the hoarse cries, Jinglin feared the boy might really weaken from hunger, and it would be hard to explain when they returned. Since a short delay mattered little, he nodded: “Go on.”

The wet nurse immediately carried the child to the kitchen to feed him.

Jinglin looked around at the bedchamber still draped in red silk, then at the man on the bed—beaten all over yet still bristling with defiance. He tapped the two documents on the table. “The gifts have been delivered. We won’t trouble you further. Xie Langjun, nurse your wounds well.”

With that, he turned and went out to wait in the courtyard.

“Bully,” Xie Wuling sneered coldly.

Aunt Liu came closer. Seeing his sorry state, her face wrinkled up in distress. “How did you end up beaten like this?”

Xie Wuling said, “Don’t worry, Auntie, it’s nothing serious.”

Thinking of all the upheaval that day and the servants outside who were clearly no ordinary folk, Aunt Liu dared not say much more. She only sighed again and again: “What sin, what sin…”

Xie Wuling forced a grin. “Don’t sigh, I’m not dead yet.”

“Ptui, don’t talk nonsense,” Aunt Liu glared at him, then sighed again. “Lie down. I’ll go to the kitchen, catch a chicken, and stew you some broth for your strength.”

As Aunt Liu left, the wet nurse finished feeding the child and came back ready to take him away.

After two months of looking after him, Aunt Liu couldn’t bear it. She went forward, touched the baby’s little face, and choked out softly, “Little one, once you return to your mother, live a good life. If you can still remember your Papa Xie, it won’t be in vain that he loved you once.”

Jinglin scowled. “Old woman, enough—don’t corrupt the young master.”

He waved his hand, signaling the wet nurse to hurry out with the baby.

But as soon as she stepped through the doorway with him, the child suddenly burst out crying.

Everyone in the courtyard was startled. The wet nurse quickly bent her head to soothe him, but the boy cried even harder.

Aunt Liu’s eyes welled up with tears. Wiping her face, she said, “The child can’t bear to leave.”

No matter how the wet nurse tried, the baby’s throat grew hoarse, yet he still wouldn’t stop crying.

Wildcat came out and said, “My boss says—let him hold the child.”

Jinglin frowned. The wet nurse whispered a reminder, “If he cries much longer and harms his throat, it’ll be hard to explain when we return.”

Since it was, after all, the benefactor’s child, Jinglin had no choice but to wave his hand in reluctant consent.

Strangely enough, as soon as Ping’an was carried back inside and lay in Xie Wuling’s arms, he quickly stopped crying.

Looking down at the tiny infant, Xie Wuling’s heart softened. He stretched out a finger for Ping’an to clutch. “At least you’ve got some conscience, kid—not mistaking a thief for your father.”

Seeing this, Jinglin found the matter awkward.

After thinking a bit, he decided to return to the manor and report, and let his master decide how to handle it.

Half an hour later.

When word of the Xie household’s situation reached him, Pei Xia said nothing at first. His gaze instead fell on Shen Yujiao, sitting sideways by the couch.

She seemed absent in spirit, slender white fingers fiddling with a porcelain spoon as she sat in a daze.

After a long while, her butterfly-wing lashes trembled lightly. She came back to herself, gently stirring the warm bird’s nest soup in her porcelain bowl. “Since Ping’an can’t bear to leave him, then… let him be raised by his side for now.”

The child might be small, but Xie Wuling bathed him, washed his swaddles, fed him, coaxed him to sleep, played with him—just like a true father and son.

She herself could not become his wife. As for this child… if he wanted to keep him, then let him.

Later, if he married and had children and no longer wished to keep Ping’an, she could send someone to bring the boy back.

After all, she was still pregnant now. Who knew what awaited her once she returned to Luoyang? If it were as it had been before… Ping’an would likely be freer with Xie Wuling than with her.

Though Pei Xia did not wish to have any more entanglement with that Xie Wuling, hearing Shen Yujiao’s decision, he nonetheless ordered Jinglin: “Leave the child with him. Send another wet nurse and a boy servant to attend the young master closely.”

Jinglin accepted the order and went to make arrangements.

Pei Xia looked again at Shen Yujiao. “Though the child remains in Jinling, every three months I’ll have his situation reported to you. You needn’t worry.”

“You handle it, I’m reassured.”

Shen Yujiao gave him a gentle smile, then lowered her head again to her bird’s nest soup, as though indifferent.

Pei Xia smoothed his long fingers over the book roll in his hands.

He didn’t know why—she was smiling, still as gentle and kind as before—yet he felt something wasn’t quite right.

As for what felt wrong…

He suddenly recalled yesterday in that small courtyard—when a soldier secretly kicked Xie Wuling, she, who was usually so soft-spoken, had suddenly seemed like a different person, eyes blazing as she scolded the soldier.

That look—he had never seen it before.

No, he had seen it. Last year, when her sister-in-law was being humiliated by the escorting soldiers, she had been the same then: like a little hedgehog bristling with quills, fierce and sharp, yet brimming with a vivid liveliness.

“Why do you look at me like that?”

Shen Yujiao noticed his gaze lingering too long and looked puzzled. “Is there something wrong with me?”

Pei Xia’s eyes shifted slightly, then after a moment he gave a faint smile. “Nothing.”

Seeing him lower his head again to his book, Shen Yujiao thought nothing more of it and continued eating the bird’s nest from her bowl.

—

By the time the sun sank low, the Xie family’s small courtyard finally quieted down.

The old servant from the Pei household stayed temporarily in the main hall of the Xie house, while the wet nurse rented a storage room from the Liu family and moved there with Ping’an.

Aunt Liu fed Xie Wuling a large bowl of chicken soup, cleaned away the dishes, and then went back to her own home.

In the bridal chamber lit by dim candles, Xie Wuling lay alone on a bed covered with bright red bedding, staring blankly at the wedding canopy embroidered with a hundred sons and a thousand grandsons.

At this hour, Jiaojiao should have been lying beside him, blushing with shy embarrassment.

Even if they couldn’t consummate as husband and wife, he could have held her tightly in his arms, close and secure.

She smelled so sweet, so soft—on a rainy night like this, holding her to sleep would have been wonderfully comfortable, and his dreams would surely have been like those of the immortals.

But now, she was gone.

Perhaps at this very moment she was lying beside that cold, pale-faced scholar.

That kind of man, who only knew how to bury his head in books—he might look good, but he was useless. How could he know how to cherish a wife?

And yet, he had family, power, wealth…

Just like Miss Cui had said last night: Jiaojiao and Pei Xia were the true match.

Following him, she was only the wife of a lowly petty official, living in this shabby courtyard, eating plum-blossom cakes bought from street stalls for three coins apiece, cooking, washing clothes, folding bedding by herself. But following that pale-faced scholar, she could be a noble lady, served by maids, guarded by attendants, stretching out her hands for clothes and opening her mouth for food…

She was a noble daughter of Chang’an; she should have such a life.

Perhaps… he really should wake up and stop clinging to her.

Xie Wuling’s lashes lowered, his chest filling with a dull, heavy ache.

He turned over, pressing his tall nose against the bright red embroidered pillow. The faint fragrance she had left behind seemed to seep out of the pillowcase, threading into his nose.

Her scent.

His Jiaojiao.

Though he knew he shouldn’t, he still pulled the pillow out, about to hug it to his chest, when from the corner of his eye he saw a splash of red on the ground.

Xie Wuling bent down, and his body froze.

On the floor lay a bright red pouch, embroidered with a vivid pair of lotus blossoms growing from one stem.

He quickly picked it up. The little pouch was exquisitely made, each stitch fine and tight, showing great care.

It was slightly bulging, as though it held something.

Opening it, he found a lock of glossy black hair, bound with red thread—

In Jinling custom, on the wedding night, a newlywed couple tied locks of hair together and placed them in a shared pouch, symbolizing becoming husband and wife, joined until old age.

In her heart, she had him.

She truly wanted to marry him, to grow old with him.

A surge of scorching heat suddenly welled in Xie Wuling’s chest, flooding his entire being like a tide. That bitterness and unwillingness far surpassed the pain of his injuries.

He pressed the red pouch hard against his chest, his tall frame curling in on itself, eyes tightly shut. After a long time, a hoarse cry escaped his throat, like the low growl of a trapped beast.

“Jiaojiao.”

—

The next day was a rainy, overcast day.

After breakfast, Pei Xia informed Shen Yujiao that they would be leaving Jinling that very day.

Shen Yujiao was surprised. “So soon?”

Pei Xia glanced at her. “Do you still have something unfinished?”

Her words caught in her throat. After a moment of silence, she shook her head. “No.”

He had always worked efficiently, and since returning from the barracks, he acted with even greater decisiveness. Everything needing to be handled had already been dealt with yesterday, so there was no need to remain in the governor’s mansion. After all, in the beginning Pei Xia had only lodged there to accompany the Second Prince on his visit.

They had only stayed two days, and had few belongings to pack.

Deciding to leave at mid-morning, by noon the provisions and carriage were already ready.

Governor Cui and his wife originally wished to keep them for lunch, but Pei Xia said, “The days grow shorter in autumn and winter. If we leave after lunch, I fear we won’t reach the post station before nightfall.”

Seeing the weather, the governor and his wife no longer pressed them to stay.

After exchanging farewells at the inner gate, Pei Xia first helped Shen Yujiao into the carriage, then turned to bow to the governor and his sons. “We have disturbed your household these days. When you, Madam, and the young masters visit my residence in future, I will be sure to set out the finest delicacies and treat you well.”

“You are far too polite, virtuous nephew.”

“Shouzhen, may you and your young wife have a safe journey. Do write once you reach home.”

“I will.”

As the rain misted down, Pei Xia turned and stepped into the carriage.

Inside, Shen Yujiao had already removed her veiled hat. She leaned against the soft cushions, chin propped in thought.

When she saw Pei Xia enter, she shifted closer to the window. “We’re leaving now?”

Pei Xia brushed the rain from his shoulder. “Yes, we need to travel while it’s still light.”

Then he pointed to the red-lacquered food box beneath the table. “Madam Cui was thoughtful—she had the kitchen pack a meal. If you get hungry, take it out to eat.”

“I ate a bit too much at breakfast, I’m not hungry right now.”

“Mm. If you get hungry, remember to say so.”

The two exchanged a few lukewarm words, and the procession continued steadily forward, vermilion carriage wheels rumbling over puddles on the bluestone road.

Shen Yujiao sat quietly for a while, but at last could not resist and lifted a corner of the curtain to look outside.

Pei Xia glanced at her, said nothing, and closed his eyes again to rest.

Last night, the couple had still slept in separate rooms—

It had been her suggestion, saying that with her body heavy she often turned over at night, and feared disturbing him.

He knew this was nothing more than an excuse.

As long as they were in Jinling, her heart still lingered on that Xie Wuling.

It was fine—he would give her time.

Time and distance would slowly help her forget everything in Jinling.

To make her understand, she was not Xie Wuling’s betrothed, but his, Pei Shouzhen’s, wife—married through proper rites and carried into the household.

Shen Yujiao leaned against the carriage window, watching the bustling, lively scenes of Jinling’s streets along the way. Only when the carriage passed beyond the city gates into the desolate autumn countryside, barren and withered, did she feel it was no longer interesting, let the curtain fall, and imitated Pei Xia by closing her eyes to rest.

Pregnancy made one all the more weary. What’s more, the carriage swayed softly, and the silence inside was especially lulling.

Unwittingly, Shen Yujiao drifted into sleep against the window.

She did not know how long had passed when, in a daze, she seemed to hear the rapid drumming of hooves.

Accompanied by a faint, faraway voice, as if calling from the ends of the sky.

Jiaojiao, Jiaojiao…

Xie Wuling.

Shen Yujiao’s heart gave a jolt. She suddenly opened her eyes, raised her head, only to meet Pei Xia’s dark, deep phoenix eyes, still and fathomless as a pool.

Two long fingers brushed lightly across the hair at her brow. His voice was gentle, slow: “Yuniang, a nightmare?”