Head lowered, Shen Yujiao walked herself to the bed.
Though married half a year, with many nights of union, each time they performed the rites of Zhou Gong they were still courteous, restrained. Compared to the wedding night, the only difference was that now they were more practiced, no longer so awkward.
As usual, Shen Yujiao removed her embroidered shoes, slipped into the bed-curtained couch, and slowly undid her outer robe.
Aside from the dragon-and-phoenix wedding candles that could not be extinguished on the wedding night, every time thereafter was in darkness, the candlelight snuffed out, their intimacy conducted in pitch black.
Shen Yujiao found this just as well. Heaven knew that on the wedding night, when she lay beneath him, their eyes meeting, it had been so shameful she wanted to burrow into the ground.
Pei Xia too removed his gauze robe. Snuffing the lamp wick, he glanced at the embroidered canopy bed.
Half the green gauze curtain hung down, inside the light dim. The young woman sat sideways, black hair spilling against her cheek. The apricot robe slid slightly from her shoulder, revealing pale skin; faintly visible beneath was a goose-yellow undergarment embroidered with a pale pink lotus.
Beauty like a painting, soft fragrance lingering. Pei Xia averted his gaze, his voice low and hoarse: “I’ve put out the light.”
From within the canopy came her soft reply: “Many thanks, Langjun.”
The flame went out, the room sank into darkness, only a trace of corridor light slipping through the window seam.
As the curtains rustled down, Shen Yujiao’s breath quickened.
They were husband and wife, why did she still not grow accustomed?
Perhaps they remained too distant in daily life…
But wasn’t this how the marriages of other noble families were as well?
Pei Xia’s nature was cold, like ice that never melted.
In the early days, she had shown a little girlish charm, hoping to be a loving couple who read books and poured tea together. But he had little taste for women. Her tender gestures were like throwing coquettish looks at a blind man.
One night, summoning her courage, she had wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering softly, “Langjun, cherish Yuniang a little more.”
His body had seemed to stiffen, then he removed her arms, voice calm: “Yuniang, you are my wife. I will naturally honor you. There’s no need for such acts of pleasing.”
She was, after all, a maiden educated in the classics, well-versed in propriety and modesty. Hearing him say this, she had flushed crimson with shame, embarrassed beyond words.
Later she came around to it, he was probably just such a dull and rigid man. To be able to treat each other with courtesy was already a blessing.
She couldn’t expect to have both status and respect and affection. A man’s affection was mostly reserved for concubines and bed-servants; the proper wife of the household needed to have breadth of heart, not be so greedy…
As she consoled herself, a warm palm suddenly settled on her shoulder.
Shen Yujiao couldn’t help but shiver. The bed-curtains were dark, only the faint outline of the tall man visible. His voice was lower and hoarser than usual. “Cold?”
“N–no… not cold.”
Just sudden, startling her a little.
“Sleep.”
“Yes.” She answered softly, yielding to the pressure of that hand, slowly lying down.
The back of her head had just touched the embroidered pillow when an even stronger fragrance of sandalwood pressed in at the tip of her nose, mingling with the heat of the man’s body, soaking inch by inch into her skin.
Realizing what was about to happen, Shen Yujiao closed her eyes.
In the still darkness, the man’s fingers and breath were nothing like his cool exterior, molten, searing hot.
So hot that her breathing fell into disorder, as if it reached into the very core of her heart.
“Yuniang.”
He was always sparing of words, all the more so in bed. This sudden call made Shen Yujiao tense. “Wh–what is it?”
“Nothing.”
The man’s long, bony fingers slowly traced her arched back, his voice low by her ear, still restrained but carrying a rasp: “Relax.”
Shen Yujiao bit her lip, giving a random hum in reply.
But inwardly she thought, if he hadn’t suddenly called her name, she wouldn’t be so tense.
That thought only lasted a moment. Very soon her consciousness blurred, scattered by the heat of his breath at her ear…
Outside, the storm still raged, with no sign of stopping through the night.
The patter of rain, endless, made the heart restless.
Exhausted, Shen Yujiao clutched half the brocade quilt, her scattered senses slowly drawing back. She had once liked rainy days.
Perhaps it was because of that storm last year, when the tower collapsed and her family was ruined, that she had come to hate the rain.
She lay catching her breath for a while, listening to the rain. Beside her, the man had not yet called for water.
Shen Yujiao wondered, had he fallen asleep?
It was possible; tonight seemed even longer than that night at the beginning of the month.
Propping herself up on one arm, she was about to summon someone to bring water, when the long hand at her waist pulled her back lightly but firmly.
“Where are you going?”
In the dim dark of the curtains, she could not see his face, but his deep, husky voice still made her heart skip.
Her own voice was no steadier, carrying an unbidden trace of softness: “To have them bring water. All sweaty, sticky.”
“No hurry.”
“Ah?”
But the curtains fell silent. Just as Shen Yujiao was about to ask again, the man suddenly leaned over once more, seeking her ear. “Later.”
Shen Yujiao was stunned.
He… wanted more?
Aside from the wedding night, when they joined twice, every intimate night afterward had been only once.
Even on nights when she clearly felt he had not had enough, he had restrained himself, never taking more.
But now, the man who always limited himself to once a night had suddenly broken that rule.
Before Shen Yujiao could think further, another round of tangled passion left her mind in fragments.
The next morning, when Shen Yujiao woke, it was still dreamlike.
Holding her sore waist, she thought, though weary, in just a few days he would leave home for a distant campaign. Who knew which month, which day they could be close again. Twice was twice, and that was fine.
But unexpectedly, that night Pei Xia came again to Tingyun Pavilion.
As before, incense, bathing, lights out, bed curtains drawn. Once ended, then a second time again.
Before sleeping, Shen Yujiao, though drowsy and spent, still couldn’t help turning her face slightly, softly calling to the man lying silently beside her. “Langjun.”
A trace of orchid and musk still lingered inside the curtains. He answered, “What is it?”
Shen Yujiao clutched the quilt edge. The words circled at her lips, but in the end she only said, “Nothing, just wondering if you were asleep.”
“About to sleep.”
“Oh. Then sleep.”
“Mm.”
Even in sleep, Pei Xia was proper and dignified. Though husband and wife shared the same bed, an entire night could pass without the two of them touching.
Shen Yujiao’s sleeping posture had not been so restrained before. But afraid of being unseemly, stretching out hands or feet to disturb him, she forced herself to control it.
After half a year’s effort, she had improved greatly. Now, a whole night could pass without her clinging to him in sleep as she had in the wedding days.
Hearing only silence at her ear, Shen Yujiao’s eyes dimmed slightly. She turned to lie flat, thinking, what was there to ask? That he was willing to be close with her was already a good thing.
Could she act like some delicate girl, coyly asking: “Is it because Langjun cannot bear to part with me, that you come to me so often?”
How could a dignified matron ask such things? Pei Xia would surely find her strange.
Suppressing those improper thoughts, Shen Yujiao let drowsiness take her, sinking into sleep.
After a long while, the man on the outer side of the bed opened his eyes.
He turned his head slightly. Through the gauze curtain’s dim light, he could just make out the delicate, gentle lines of the woman’s face.
She was sleeping soundly, breathing light and soft.
She really was exhausted.
The second time, when she bit her lip and whimpered “Langjun,” full of plea for mercy, he had realized he had lost his restraint.
His long fingers lifted slightly, reaching toward her tender cheek, but just before touching, they stopped.
A moment later, he slowly drew them back.
Enough. No need to disturb her.
—
Over the next two nights, Pei Xia still stayed at Tingyun Pavilion.
This unusual closeness both surprised Shen Yujiao and stirred in her heart a small, secret joy.
She knew she must not be too greedy. Yet at night, with their hair mingling, necks entwined, clinging to his burning body, she could not help but feel, as if he was no longer the famed gentleman of Hedong, nor the burdened heir of the Pei clan, but simply her husband, hers alone.
After their intimacy, Shen Yujiao thought in a daze, perhaps he did not feel entirely without affection for her?
But this faint, girlish sentiment was quickly extinguished—
The day before Pei Xia’s departure, Shen Yujiao went to Wende Courtyard to pay respects to her mother-in-law, Madam Wang.
Just as she was about to leave after the formalities, Madam Wang dismissed the servants and invited out from the inner room an elderly woman with white hair and wrinkled skin, dressed in a green robe.
“This is Madam Zhou, a female physician I specially summoned from Chang’an. She is most skilled in women’s ailments; she once tended to consorts and princesses within the palace…”
Madam Wang, adorned in pearls and finery, sat upright at the front. Her brows, perpetually knitted, seemed to declare that nothing in this world could make her smile again.
At first Shen Yujiao thought the sour expression was directed only at herself, but later realized Madam Wang was like this with everyone. In Wenxi County, aside from her son Pei Xia, she looked down on all, sparing no one a kind face.
“I had hoped for Madam Zhou to carefully adjust your condition, but who knew the imperial army would march so urgently? She hurried here with all speed and only arrived last night.”
Madam Wang frowned and turned to the physician. “My son departs tomorrow morning. The time is short. Madam Zhou, please do not hold anything back. Whatever methods there are to help her conceive, teach them all.”
Better to clutch the Buddha’s feet at the last moment than do nothing at all. Though this campaign placed him as a strategist rather than at the front lines, it was still war. Should anything happen, he was the sole legitimate heir!
The more she thought, the deeper her brows furrowed, and the more dissatisfaction her gaze carried toward Shen Yujiao.
Half a year married, yet no movement at all.
Could it really be as her sister-in-law had said, that with her sharp face, narrow waist, and small hips, she was fated barren?
Shen Yujiao felt that cutting gaze as well. She silently recited patience, lowered her head, and answered meekly: “Mother is right. Your daughter-in-law will listen attentively to all of Madam Zhou’s guidance.”
Seeing her so pliant, Madam Wang no longer wasted words and nodded to the physician: “Please, Madam Zhou.”
Since the room held only women, and with a generous fee paid, Madam Zhou did not conceal anything. She first took Shen Yujiao’s pulse and asked questions, then broached matters of the bedchamber.
Embarrassed, Shen Yujiao dared not speak, but when Madam Wang stepped out to change clothes, she finally whispered the details, the frequency of their relations, the positions, when water was summoned afterward.
After listening, Madam Zhou prescribed a secret fertility formula said to come from the palace, and even leaned close to teach several postures favorable for conception.
The intimate details made Shen Yujiao’s cheeks burn scarlet; her palms bore red crescents from being clenched so tightly.
After the time of one incense stick, Madam Wang returned, and found Shen Yujiao sitting absent-minded on the couch. She cleared her throat. “Madam Shen.”
Startled out of her thoughts of those shocking instructions, Shen Yujiao swayed lightly. She rose quickly. “Mother, your daughter-in-law is here.”
Madam Wang sat with leisure and eyed her. “Did you remember all that Madam Zhou taught?”
Eyes lowered, Shen Yujiao answered: “I did.”
“Not only must you remember, you must put it into practice. Since Shouzhen heeded my urging and now spends more nights in your quarters, seize the opportunity.”
She sipped tea and looked at Shen Yujiao. “Your family has fallen. I do not expect you to aid Shouzhen’s career. But as a wife, to bear children for the family, surely that is not too much to ask?”
Though the words seemed magnanimous, the hidden sting pierced Shen Yujiao’s heart like fine needles.
“Mother’s benevolence makes me feel deeply ashamed. I will…” She lowered her lashes, voice quiet. “I will serve my husband as Madam Zhou instructed, and strive soon to bring heirs to the Pei family.”
Satisfied, Madam Wang set down her cup. “I am weary. You may go.”
“Yes. Please rest well, Mother. I shall take my leave.”
Leaving the courtyard, Shen Yujiao glanced at the gray, heavy sky, it looked like rain again.
Perhaps it was the stifling air before a storm, or perhaps the weight of Madam Wang’s words, “Since Shouzhen listened to my urging and is willing to stay in your quarters”, but a haze settled heavily over her chest.
So that was why, these past nights, he had come to her room. Their closeness had nothing to do with affection or passion, it was merely to leave behind an heir.
Of course. With his nature, how could it be otherwise?
It was she, again, who had been greedy.
