Song of the Bright Moon Chapter 43

Autumn wind brushed the fallen leaves beyond the hall, while inside, amid curling incense, one could hear a pin drop.

Madam Wang looked upon the young woman before her—her posture proper, her bearing elegant, yet her eyes devoid of the slightest respect. A flicker of astonishment flashed in her gaze, but soon returned to calm. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and the corner of her lips curved with the faintest arc.

So this Shen woman had finally shed the guise of meek gentleness.

From the very first day Shouzhen brought her through the gates, when she saw those bright, luminous eyes, she knew she was not so submissive and well-behaved as she pretended. Yet she had not exposed her—what did it matter if it was an act? If she could keep acting, act for a lifetime, that too was a skill.

But now, with masks torn away, there was no need for anyone to keep pretending.

And strangely, seeing Shen Yujiao like this, Madam Wang did not feel anger. Instead, she felt a trace of satisfaction at her courage—a courage befitting the mistress of a household—and even a faint, secretive sense of relief, hard to name.

At last, it had come to this step, she thought.

She had imagined it would be decades later, when she was sick and bedridden, at death’s door, that this daughter-in-law would reveal her true face, point at her nose and scold: “Old woman, I’ve finally outlasted you.”

She had even thought of what she would reply then, that she must laugh once and say: “At last, you’re done pretending.”

Drawing back her wandering thoughts, she saw the woman before her still gazing straight at her with luminous eyes, as though demanding an answer.

An answer.

Madam Wang glanced at Shen Yujiao’s rounded belly, then at Pei Xia’s heavy expression at the side.

From the moment they entered the gate, he had shielded this Shen woman, cherishing her more than ever before.

So-called mother-in-law and daughter-in-law—after all, it was only a man that bound two unrelated women onto the same rope.

And the attitude of that man directly determined the outcome of this contest.

As matters stood, the loss was already decided—

Only Madam Wang could not quite tell if she had lost to her son’s steadfast sense of justice, or to his heart that had already tilted away.

Standing silently beside the ancestral tablets for a long time, she finally raised her eyes to Shen Yujiao: “I have no words with which to defend myself.”

Her gaze was calm, like stagnant dead water, her voice equally bland, betraying no hint of emotion: “Shen, you have won.”

Shen Yujiao froze, not expecting such a response.

So—did this count as admitting fault?

Yet for some reason, there was not the slightest sense of triumph in her heart. Instead, she felt stifled, as though a stone were stuck there—neither up nor down.

Out of the corner of her eye she looked at Pei Xia, saw his face solemn, brows tightly furrowed—surely the feelings in his heart were no better than hers.

Indeed, a son accusing his mother—whatever the outcome, all are bound to be losers.

“Pei Shouzhen.” Madam Wang turned her gaze to Pei Xia, her tone as cold as if speaking to a stranger: “The truth is already clear. There’s no need to say more. Before the ancestors of the Pei clan, deal with your mother.”

“Confinement, family law, or perhaps…”

She lifted her brows, her glance sliding toward Shen Yujiao. “Do you think my sins so heavy that only by giving my life to repay your wife’s can your anger be appeased?”

That one look from her made Shen Yujiao’s back chill. She wondered what had come over Madam Wang today.

Each of these words—wasn’t it like stabbing knives into Pei Xia’s heart? Or was she saying them to stir up Pei Xia’s guilt?

She bit her lip and looked toward him.

Just then Pei Xia happened to turn his eyes her way.

Their gazes met. Though his brows and eyes were weighed with gloom, he faintly curved his lips at her.

Shen Yujiao started slightly; the next moment she saw him step back two paces, lift the hem of his crow-dark robe, and kneel straight before Madam Wang:

“Mother, these words truly wound the heart. By both state law and family law, it is Heaven’s order that one who kills must pay with life. If it were truly you who killed my wife, then as a husband who could not protect her, I am worthless. As a son who failed to dissuade his elder in time from committing evil—then the mother’s debt is the son’s to repay. The one who should give a life is me.”

He shifted his knees slightly, facing the rows of black spirit tablets on the shrine, and raised his sleeve: “Forebears of the Pei clan above, I, Pei Xia, as the clan heir, am ashamed that such disgrace has come forth from our household. By clan rules, if Pei family members harm each other, there must be severe punishment, to rectify the family’s conduct.”

“This time Yuniang suffered misfortune. Though Mother was not the mastermind, she bears the guilt of abetting. As an elder, unkind to your daughter-in-law, yet too indulgent toward the second branch’s niece—this is a failing in virtue. As the Madam of the Pei clan, failing to safeguard the women of the household and keep the rear court in order—this is a failing in duty.”

He looked at Madam Wang. Though still kneeling, his back was straight as bamboo: “Your son dares to request that Mother hand over the Madam’s seal and the key to the household ledgers. Hereafter clan and household affairs will be handled by others. Without these burdens, you may also quiet your mind and reflect upon your faults.”

Madam Wang’s face changed. “You mean to strip me of power, to make the whole Pei clan laugh at me?”

The Madam’s seal was status, the ledger key was authority. Now her own son wanted both her face and her substance—how could she stand in the clan again?

Pei Xia’s gaze was cool. “The clan precepts say: if elders lack virtue, disaster falls upon the descendants. Your virtue is lacking, your conduct improper. If you continue as Madam, ruling the family, that is the true shame of the Pei clan. But Mother may rest assured: I will tell others that your health is ailing and you must rest. If you mind outside gossip, you may return to our old home in Wenxi, or remain at the Luoyang residence—whichever pleases you.”

Madam Wang’s eyes flickered, her voice low and heavy: “Do you think because I am ill, that you will be well? You are the son, Shen is the daughter-in-law—should you not both serve me at home?”

“Mother’s illness should indeed be tended by her son at her knee. But the court has summoned me—I will soon depart for Chang’an to take office. From then on, unless for clan affairs, I may not return.”

Pei Xia lowered his eyes. “Yuniang carries six months’ child; clumsy of hand and foot, she cannot care for you properly. I will take her with me, and find another trustworthy person to attend you.”

At this, Madam Wang’s face grew uglier still. “You mean to cast aside your own mother?”

“I dare not. But Mother’s deeds leave me not knowing how to face you. I only hope you will reflect quietly at home and one day see your own errors. If you can repent, I will still honor you. If you remain obstinate…”

Pei Xia closed his eyes, hiding the struggle and pain within them, his voice sinking: “I know you must hate me for being unfeeling, but I cannot satisfy both filial duty and righteousness. Before leaving for Chang’an, I will present myself to the clan elders for punishment—or if you wish now to invoke family law and cane your unfilial son, I will willingly accept it without complaint.”

Saying this, he bowed deeply, knocking his forehead to the floor.

Madam Wang saw him perform such a great rite, so ready to take whatever beating or killing, and a sourness welled in her heart.

Anger or resentment aside—he was still her son, her greatest pride.

Her whole life’s striving—was it not all for him?

“Enough, enough.”

Her body swayed, bracing tightly against the table, her face pale as she gave a bitter laugh: “Now you are grown, with your own mind. I can no longer restrain you.”

Hearing this, Pei Xia raised his head to look at her, his grave face shadowed with sorrow. “Mother.”

“I cannot bear even to be called that anymore.”

Madam Wang closed her eyes, her muffled voice saying: “The floor is cold. Get up.”

Pei Xia’s lips pressed into a thin line. He kowtowed three times properly to her before rising.

The candlelight in the ancestral hall wavered. Shen Yujiao saw a red mark upon his smooth forehead, and her eyes shifted faintly.

“The ledger key and the Madam’s seal—I will have someone deliver them to you later.”

Madam Wang spoke coldly, lifting her lids. But when she saw the red mark on Pei Xia’s brow, her throat caught; after a pause she said: “As for my punishment it is decided. How do you intend to deal with the second branch’s mother and daughter?”

“The second branch’s Pei Tong was vicious of heart, directed the servants to murder her elder sister-in-law, showing contempt for human life. By clan and family law, she must be severely punished. Aunt Cui was not the mastermind, but she failed in discipline, allowing such a grave crime. Since Second Uncle yet lives, and she is his wife, I as the nephew cannot overstep him. Tomorrow I will speak with Second Uncle and let him decide her punishment.”

Madam Wang was silent for a moment, then asked: “Severe punishment—what sort of punishment?”

“Send her to the manor…”

After a brief pause, his gaze swept over Shen Yujiao’s lowered face and the swell of her belly. Pei Xia lowered his brows, hiding the darkness in his eyes. “To recuperate.”

Just a few faint words, and the hall fell into silence.

Not only Shen Yujiao—even Madam Wang turned to stare in shock at the man in the hall.

She had known Pei Tong, that source of calamity, must be severely punished. She had thought at the very least her life would be spared, that she would simply have her hair shorn and be sent to the ancestral temple as a nun.

She had not expected him to open his mouth and take Pei Tong’s life.

After all, that was the cousin who had grown up by his side…

Madam Wang’s heart trembled, and she could not help but look again and again at her son, fine as jade and upright as an orchid.

After this journey away, her son seemed to have changed. Was it the tempering of the battlefield? His heart had grown far more ruthless than before.

Shen Yujiao too could not hide her astonishment. Her thoughts at that moment were not so different from Madam Wang’s—was it because he had returned from war that he was no longer the same as before?

After a strange stillness, Madam Wang at last asked hesitantly: “What about the Wang family? Her marriage to Wang Huanwen was already fixed for next spring. The Wang family has even sent their betrothal gifts.”

“For someone so vicious and foolish, Mother would truly entrust her to enter the Wang household?”

Pei Xia’s long fingers rubbed lightly at his brow. Seeing Madam Wang’s ashen face, in the end he could not bear to speak harsher words that would make their already shattered mother–son bond even more painful. He slowly lowered his hand, his voice calm and steady: “Then I must trouble Mother to write a letter of repudiation to the Wang family. If they still wish for alliance with the Pei clan, we will certainly grant a virtuous and proper daughter as bride. If it must be Pei Tong, then forgive us—Third Niangzi’s fate is too thin, and she has no destiny to be a wife of the Wang clan. The marriage will be annulled. All betrothal gifts they sent, the Pei clan will return in full, with an additional thirty percent as apology.”

Having spoken, seeing Madam Wang remain silent and the sky outside darkening, Pei Xia folded his sleeves and bowed: “Mother, it grows late. Yuniang and I have traveled long and hard, and are truly weary. We will retire first to rest.”

Without waiting for her to reply, he turned to Shen Yujiao. “Let’s go.”

Shen Yujiao looked at him slowly. “Mm.”

Led by his hand, she walked out. After stepping down the hall steps, she could not help but look back.

Within the solemn ancestral hall, smoke curling, Madam Wang leaned against the shrine, cold memorial tablets at her back. Her tall, thin figure seemed slightly hunched, her gaze vacant, staring at nothing. The prideful sharpness between her brows and eyes was gone, leaving her whole being withered and desolate, steeped in decay.

At a glance, she seemed to have merged with the shrine itself, become another cold, silent memorial tablet.

A chill autumn wind passed through, stirring fallen leaves on the ground.

Suddenly the woman inside lifted her eyes. That withered gaze met hers. Shen Yujiao shivered violently and hurried out.

The northern mansion and the courtyards of Jiangnan were utterly different. The old Pei residence in Luoyang was built in the shape of the character xi (joy), with six courtyards, large yards encircling smaller ones. The whole estate was square and grand, strict and imposing.

Pei Xia and Shen Yujiao lived in Zhulan Court, on the east side.

On the walk back from the ancestral hall, husband and wife kept holding hands, yet both were unusually silent.

Not until they reached Zhulan Court did Pei Xia stop and turn to her:

“I forgot to ask just now—what does Yuniang think of today’s judgment?”

Shen Yujiao met his dark, narrow eyes. After two moments’ silence, she withdrew her hand from his palm, and bowed formally: “Thank you, Langjun, for upholding justice for me.”

The punishment for Pei Tong was somewhat beyond her expectation, but she was no great saint who would repay malice with virtue.

That she was alive now was thanks to Guard Sun’s kindness and her own good fortune, meeting good people along the way.

Had her luck been worse, she would already be a mound of yellow earth, never able to return safely to Luoyang.

Since Pei Tong had borne a heart to harm others, she ought to know—good and evil have their recompense. The one who harms others will one day be devoured by her own malice.

As for Madam Wang…

With today’s outcome, she knew Pei Xia had done his utmost.

Were it her, she might not have been so decisive.

It was not what she desired, but after all it was because of her that discord now lay between mother and son.

Her long lashes lowered slightly. Shen Yujiao said softly: “When does Langjun plan to depart for Chang’an?”

Hearing the meaning beneath her words, Pei Xia replied: “Within a few days. Once I finish arranging household affairs, we will leave.”

A breath loosened in her heart, her brows and eyes relaxing. She smiled gently at him. “Good.”

She truly did not wish to remain in the Pei residence any longer. She had been here less than half a day, yet the feeling of suffocation had pressed on her chest the whole time.

Thankfully, Pei Xia would take her with him to Chang’an. Otherwise, if he left her alone in this vast, deep house—even with Madam Wang no longer troubling her, even with Pei Tong sent to the manor—she would still be afraid.

Afraid that in this great mansion, as time passed, she too would slowly become like Madam Wang, become one with the ancestral hall, nothing but a cold wooden tablet.

Since their departure was now settled, the two entered the courtyard.

Under the veranda, two rows of maids were already standing. When they saw the couple enter, Bai Ping, at their head, nearly burst into tears.

“Greetings to the lord and lady.” The maids all curtseyed in unison.

At once Shen Yujiao recognized Bai Ping, and also a few maids who had served her at the old Wenxi residence.

After half a year apart, meeting again stirred emotions in her heart. Seeing the tears glimmer in Bai Ping’s eyes, at last within this heavy mansion she felt a trace of warmth. A faint smile touched her lips. “All of you, rise.”

“Thank you, lord, thank you, my lady.” The maids stood.

The courtyard had been carefully swept two days earlier; every piece of furniture had been wiped clean. By the lattice window in the side room stood a pale-moon vase with a peony pattern, short-necked and cloisonné enamel. Inside were red maple leaves, adding a touch of refined autumn elegance.

“You’ve been hurrying on the road into the city, and then stood in the ancestral hall for quite a while. You must be tired.”

Pei Xia supported Shen Yujiao to sit by the couch. “Sit and rest.”

The maids quickly brought up tea and refreshments.

The two sat facing each other, eating for the time it takes half a cup of tea, and had just caught their breath when a young servant came to report that the steward was waiting in the study with the tally and keys.

Shen Yujiao’s hand holding the white porcelain teacup paused slightly. Across from her, Pei Xia also seemed a bit taken aback.

After a moment of silence, he answered, “I’ll be right there.”

Brushing off his dark-blue robe sleeve, he rose and looked at Shen Yujiao. “You rest first, I’ll go take care of something in front.”

Seeing the weariness between his brows that could not be concealed, Shen Yujiao’s heart stirred slightly, and she softly asked, “Will you come back later to eat supper?”

“I’ve been away from home for some days, and there are many things I need to explain to the steward.”

Pei Xia glanced at the sky outside the window. “If time permits, I’ll come back to eat. If it’s late, you eat first, don’t go hungry.”

“All right.” Shen Yujiao nodded. She had meant to say “you don’t need to tire yourself too much either,” but with the maids standing nearby, she suddenly felt it cloying, and in the end swallowed the words back down.

When Pei Xia had left, Bai Ping could not help drawing close, her voice choked: “My lady, it’s so good that you’ve come back.”

Heaven knows, that day in the torrential rain, when the maids had barely made it back to the residence, they saw Guard Sun return covered in blood, saying they had run into bandits on the road and the lady’s whereabouts were unknown. Bai Ping’s legs gave out on the spot, and she collapsed to the ground.

“The next day Guard Sun went to Luoyang to report, while this servant and Lu Tan and the others were all left behind at the old Wenxi estate.”

Bai Ping had thought the masters would send people to search for their lady, and every day she prayed in the residence, hoping for her safe return—never expecting instead to receive news from Luoyang that mourning rites had begun.

“Thankfully Heaven had eyes, and let you meet a benefactor and return safely.” Bai Ping smiled through tears, her gaze dropping to Shen Yujiao’s belly, hesitating a little: “My lady, you…?”

Shen Yujiao lifted her hand to rest on her stomach. “I conceived before going to Miao’an Hall, only at the time it was too early, and none of us knew.”

At this, Bai Ping secretly breathed a sigh of relief, then her smile brightened further. “For both you and the little young master to be safe and sound, it must be Bodhisattva’s blessing.”

Shen Yujiao asked, “Why don’t I see Lu Tan?”

Bai Ping’s expression changed slightly; she lowered her voice: “After the household held mourning rites, the servants in our courtyard were to be reassigned. Lu Tan’s family pulled some strings and had her transferred to the second branch’s fourth young master’s rooms… she is now his chamber-maid.”

Shen Yujiao went blank for a moment.

Then she thought: she had been gone half a year; the masters and servants of this household each had their own lives to live.

“You weren’t transferred?” Shen Yujiao looked at Bai Ping.

“This servant was sent to the needlework room,” Bai Ping said. “But recently there were rumors everywhere outside that the Noble Consort had acknowledged you as her foster daughter. Two days later the steward came to find me and Xiao Shuang and a few others, saying that since my lady and young master would soon return, the young master specially sent word for us to come back to serve you.”

At this, Bai Ping’s eyes reddened again, and she repeated: “My lady, it’s so good you’ve come back.”

Shen Yujiao froze for a beat. Her coming back… was it really such a good thing?

In any case, having someone in this household who truly hoped for her well-being gave her heart a faint warmth.

After chatting a while longer with Bai Ping, Shen Yujiao asked them to prepare hot water.

She had set out from the post station before dawn, hurried half a day’s journey, without even a sip of water, then fought a “battle” in the ancestral hall. By now she was completely exhausted in body and mind, only wanting to soak in a bath, change into comfortable clothes, and lie down to rest.

The maids bustled about. Shen Yujiao sat by the couch, looking at the embroidered curtains, gauze screens, and painted panels inside the room. Every item was the finest, radiating wealth and refinement—yet what came to her mind was the narrow, simple courtyard in Jinling a thousand miles away, small but with everything in its place.

Xie Wuling had originally planned, after their marriage, to build that row of houses in the back, just as she had drawn on the blueprints, and finish them before the year’s end…

She did not know if he would still continue building them now.

Pei Xia should have sent him quite a sum of silver. With that money, he could simply purchase a larger courtyard outright—perhaps even buy eight maids, one for massaging shoulders, one for pounding legs, one for washing clothes, one for cooking…

“My lady, Sister Bai Ping says the hot water is ready. Please come to the bathing room.”

Qiulu’s crisp voice interrupted Shen Yujiao’s thoughts. Returning to herself, she looked at the elegant, luxurious house before her, and a trace of self-mockery flashed in her eyes. She was already back—what use was there in thinking of such things? Just treat it as a dream. Now that she had woken, it was time to return to reality.

Supporting her waist with one hand, taking Qiulu’s arm with the other, Shen Yujiao rose unhurriedly and walked slowly into the next room.

That day, until late into the night, Shen Yujiao finished reading an entire volume of idle tales, yet Pei Xia still had not appeared.

At dusk he had sent a servant with a message, saying matters were pressing and she should eat by herself, no need to wait for him.

Shen Yujiao knew that, as the proper master of the household, having been away half a year, he must indeed have many affairs to see to—

Tonight there was originally to be a welcoming banquet, but Madam Wang claimed illness, and Pei Xia, pleading weariness from travel, let the matter drop.

In the past he already had plenty to occupy him; now with Madam Wang so quickly handing over the tally and keys, who was to take charge of this vast residence in the future, how to account to the clan—each matter was enough to make one’s head ache just from thinking.

But what weighed on him even more, most likely, was Madam Wang.

Shen Yujiao extinguished the lamp and lay down on the bed. The moment she closed her eyes, scenes from the ancestral hall that afternoon flashed in her mind like a lantern reel.

She, an outsider, had already found Madam Wang’s words far too sharp and unfeeling—how much more for Pei Xia, who had always respected and trusted this mother of his…

It really is the closer the person, the surer they are of where to stab so it hurts the most.

Her slender hand rested lightly on her belly, and she murmured inwardly: Good child, when you grow up, your mother will never say such words to wound you. Mother will love you dearly.

As she thought this, she suddenly froze—did that mean Madam Wang didn’t love Pei Xia?

She did love him.

Only she loved him too much, to the point that she could no longer tell right from wrong.

With a sigh of melancholy, she lifted the curtain to glance outside. Seeing that it was already dark, she guessed that Pei Xia probably would not come tonight.

Of course—not like when they were on the road, always together day and night. Now that they were back at the residence, perhaps things had returned to the old rule of seeing each other only on the first and fifteenth?

She stared out into the dimness for a while before lowering the bed-curtain and lying back down.

Perhaps she had grown used to having a man warm her bed every night; suddenly without him, it truly felt a bit cold.

Shen Yujiao curled up, cradling her belly. For a long time her hands and feet never warmed, but exhaustion overcame her, and drowsiness began to creep in.

Just as she was hazily thinking that tomorrow she must have a few hot-water bottles placed in the bed, she suddenly heard a rustle at her side.

Before she could listen closely, a warm, tall body slipped in behind her.

The man held her tightly, long arms encircling her, almost scooping her whole into his embrace. Heat enveloped her, and her drowsiness instantly lifted a little.

When that faint sandalwood scent—tinged heavily with wine—rose to her nose, the man buried his high, straight nose deep in the crook of her neck. His warm breath scattered finely over the tender skin there. Shen Yujiao was fully awake now, her body slightly stiffening.

After a brief hesitation, she bit her lip and softly called: “Langjun?”