The next morning, the sky was a pale blue, the wind carrying a thin chill.
Because today they were to visit her maternal grandfather’s house, Shen Yujiao rose especially early and dressed with care.
Seated before the bronze mirror, her hair was combed into a high bun, revealing her smooth forehead and jade-like ears. By her temple hung a pale pink hibiscus hair ornament of silk, strung with pearl tassels, setting off her already slender neck to appear even longer.
“Madam, would you like a flower ornament huadian?” Xiaying bowed, holding out a box of delicately crafted designs.
“No need.” Shen Yujiao glanced at them, puzzled: “Wasn’t this out of fashion long ago? Why is there still a whole box of them?”
Dongxu, tidying up the white fox-fur cloak, spoke up: “Madam may not know. At the Lantern Festival banquet at the palace earlier this year, Consort Shu, in some sudden whim, wore a plum-blossom huadian. His Majesty happened to praise it, and after that the other consorts all followed suit. Word spread outside the palace, and now the noble ladies of Chang’an are copying the trend as well. These huadian sell for quite a sum.”
Since the Empress passed away years ago, the empress’s seat had remained vacant. Among the four consorts, Consort Xian—mother of the Second Prince Sima Jin—and Consort Shu—mother of the Third Prince Sima Ze—stood as the strongest contenders.
One held virtue and managed the six palaces, bearing the phoenix seal. The other held favor; though nearing forty, the emperor still visited her palace more than any other.
The common folk, never having seen Consort Shu, spread tales of her as a peerless beauty of devastating charm. Some even whispered she must be a fox-spirit reborn—otherwise, why would the emperor ignore all the many youthful beauties in the harem, and instead linger only on this older consort, favor unbroken for over twenty years?
But Shen Yujiao, having once attended a palace banquet with her mother, had glimpsed that lady from afar—
Beautiful, yes, but nowhere near unrivaled. Amidst the blooming splendor of the harem, she was no more than slightly above average.
That she had remained in favor for over twenty years, Shen Yujiao and her sister-in-law privately guessed, perhaps meant the emperor held some true feeling for her.
In any case, huadian’s revival thanks to Consort Shu was no surprise.
But Shen Yujiao herself disliked sticking things on her face. With only light powder and brows faintly traced, and her coiffure set neatly, she rose from before the mirror and stepped behind the screen to change.
“Don’t tie the waist so tightly—be careful not to press the little one.”
Xiaying and Dongxu moved gently, helping her into a newly made moon-bamboo-colored brocade skirt embroidered with golden threads. With her belly now large, last year’s winter clothes no longer fit, so she had hurriedly commissioned two new sets suitable for visiting guests.
Once dressed, Dongxu came over holding two ornaments: in one hand, a heavy red-gold torque inlaid with gems; in the other, a lighter red-gold necklace hung with a gold lock charm engraved with May All Go Well.
“Madam, which would you like to wear today?”
Shen Yujiao seldom wore such lavish pieces, but thinking she hadn’t seen her family in over a year, if she dressed too plainly, they might think she was not well cared for in the Pei household and worry more.
“The lock, then. It looks more delicate.”
The other torque looked heavy just to glance at, dazzling with gemstones.
That design seemed the kind Xie Wuling would favor—he always liked those gaudy, glittering riches…
Realizing what she was thinking, Shen Yujiao’s expression went dazed.
Why… was she thinking of him again?
She shouldn’t.
Closing her eyes briefly, she shifted her focus: “It’s getting late, put it on me.”
Dongxu, noticing her mistress’s subtle change of expression, assumed she was only tired from standing, and hurried forward to fasten the necklace.
As the clasp clicked shut, a calm male voice sounded from behind the screen: “Yuniang, are you ready yet?”
“Just about.”
Shen Yujiao lowered her head, straightening the gold-thread tassel at her waist, and softly replied: “Please wait a little longer, Langjun.”
Pei Xia stood beyond the screen, gazing at the faint silhouette cast upon the sheer curtain. Recalling how she had slept nestled in his arms last night, his voice unconsciously softened: “No hurry. Take your time.”
He walked with his hands behind his back to the side chamber window. Four lattice windows stood in a row, each carved with the scenes of spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Morning sunlight filtered through them, spilling in bars across the gray-blue floor tiles, casting shadows of spring blossoms and autumn moons in crisscrossing layers, carrying a beauty all their own.
Before long, footsteps sounded behind him, accompanied by the maids’ smiling compliments.
“Madam, you look truly beautiful dressed like this.”
“Yes, just like you’ve stepped out of a painting.”
Hearing the commotion, Pei Xia slowly turned around.
When his gaze fell upon the delicate young Momo being supported out by the maids, his broad, clear brows shifted ever so slightly.
Her cloud-like hair was piled high, brows arched like strokes of ink, lips plump and rosy. She wore a soft bamboo-moon-colored inner jacket, and over it a white fox-fur cloak, a fluffy ring of white fur encircling her slender neck. Standing in the light from the flower windows, her whole figure seemed suffused in a gentle radiance, her skin luminous as snow, her beauty like a flower in full bloom.
Even across some distance, Pei Xia seemed to catch that faint, soft sweetness of her scent.
He knew well how fragrant she was, how soft to hold.
And this gentle, lovely woman—was his wife.
To share the same bed in life, to share the same grave in death, belonging to him alone.
Shen Yujiao clearly felt the man’s gaze grow deeper, more heated. When her eyes met those narrow pupils, she glimpsed within them some hard-to-define surge of emotion. She was slightly startled.
But looking again, his brows and eyes smoothed out, as serene and refined as ever. “Yuniang.”
He called to her, extending his hand. “Come here.”
It must have been her imagination, Shen Yujiao thought, and slowly walked toward him. “I’ve kept Langjun waiting.”
“Not long.”
Pei Xia looked down as she placed her hand into his palm, his long fingers holding fast. “Why is your hand a little cold?”
“Is it? It feels fine.” Shen Yujiao said, “It was a bit chilly changing clothes, but now that I’ve wrapped in the cloak, it’ll warm quickly.”
Pei Xia lowered his eyes, giving her another glance from up close. “This color suits you very well.”
Her skin was fair, her features refined. In light-colored garments, she looked like pure jade, dignified and elegant.
Hearing his earnest praise, Shen Yujiao’s cheeks flushed faintly pink, her lashes lowering. “Thank you, Langjun.”
“The carriage is already waiting outside. Let’s go.”
“Alright.”
The couple walked out, their fingers interlaced.
Xiaying and Dongxu followed behind, looking at the matched pair before them, their faces alight with joy.
“Master truly treats Madam so well.”
“Indeed. With such a fine marriage, if Master and Madam knew, they could rest easy.”
The Li estate was located in Yanshou Ward of the Western Market. Taking a carriage from Yongning Ward, they arrived only at the third quarter of the hour of Si.
When the carriage bearing the Pei household lanterns stopped steadily before the Li gates, servants immediately came forward—placing footstools, holding the reins, standing ready for instructions.
The Li family was a house of learning. Its head, Li Conghe, currently served as Director of the Imperial Archives, a third-rank post overseeing the kingdom’s collections. With his wife, Madam Luo, he had one son and two daughters: the eldest son Li Ji, now Shaoqing of the Ministry of Rites of fourth rank, married with two sons; the second daughter, Li Yanniang, married into the Qi family, second branch of Marquis Yongwei; the youngest daughter, Li Tingniang, was Shen Yujiao’s mother, married to Shen Hui, the former Chancellor’s eldest son. By concubines he had two other sons, both posted to official duty outside Chang’an and rarely home.
Shen Yujiao stepped down onto the footstool. Through the gauzy veil of her hat, she saw her maternal uncle and two elder cousins already waiting at the gate.
Over a year apart, meeting again, Shen Yujiao’s eyes reddened.
“Uncle, eldest cousin, second cousin.”
She and Pei Xia went forward, saluting the three.
Since Pei Xia’s man had come yesterday to announce their visit, Li Ji already knew his niece was with child. But seeing her in person, belly full and round, he still felt a moment of unreality. Only when his eldest son reminded him did he hastily raise his hand: “Quickly, rise. You are heavy with child now, no need for such formality.”
“Sister Yujiao.” The two cousins also returned her salute, their eyes carrying complicated emotions.
It was also Pei Xia’s first formal visit to his wife’s maternal family. Standing tall, raising his sleeve, he bowed: “Pei Xia of Hedong pays respects to Uncle and my two elder cousins. This is our first meeting—henceforth I beg your guidance.”
“Pei Langjun, you are too polite.”
Li Ji and his sons returned the bow, their eyes discreetly taking the measure of this famed Pei gentleman.
They saw a tall, upright figure, handsome of face, clad in a moon-white brocade robe, a white jade coronet on his head, a jeweled belt at his waist, and a wide black crane cloak draped over his shoulders. His every movement carried both the poise of an aristocratic scion and the upright air of a man of letters.
Standing beside their niece and cousin, anyone would say they were a perfect match—phoenix and dragon in harmony, a union made in heaven.
Truly, Shen Wenzheng Gong had been sharp-eyed indeed, to choose such a fine son-in-law for his granddaughter.
All three of the Li men thought the same, and at least at first glance, found nothing amiss with this young man’s first visit.
“My courtesy name is Shouzhen. Uncle and brothers-in-law may call me Shouzhen.” Pei Xia said warmly.
“Pei Shouzhen…”
Li Ji stroked his beard. “Who gave you this courtesy name? Was it drawn from the saying, ‘A man without quirks is not worth befriending, for he has no deep feeling; a man without flaws is not worth befriending, for he has no true spirit’?”
“My late father bestowed it, and indeed it was drawn from the saying Uncle quoted.”
Pei Xia was the only son of Pei Mao and Madam Wang, and the future heir of the Pei clan. His parents doted on him greatly, placing all their hopes in him.
A gentleman’s virtue is compared to jade. Madam Wang had originally wished to name her son Jue (Jade).
But Pei Mao chose instead Xia (Flaw).
Xia—the meaning of a flaw in fine jade.
Pei Mao believed there was no such thing as absolute perfection in this world, unless it were the bodhisattvas and immortals enshrined on the altar, or the sages in history who gave selflessly without complaint.
To be a bodhisattva was impossible, and to become a sage was too difficult, too bitter.
Compared with the harsh demand of perfection without blemish, he hoped instead that his son could be less than perfect, but a man with deep feelings and genuine spirit.
Thus, when he settled on “Xia” as the given name, he also prepared in advance the courtesy name “Shouzhen” (Keeper of Truth).
Perhaps it was fate in the dark. If he had not decided early on this courtesy name, but waited until Xia reached adulthood, he would not have had the chance.
As a father himself, Li Ji also understood Pei Mao’s hopes for his son. Looking again at Pei Xia’s upright, courteous, and composed bearing, and recalling the splendid writings he had produced, admiration grew in his heart:
“You have not failed to live up to the name your late father gave you.”
Saying so, he turned kindly toward Shen Yujiao: “Your grandmother, grandfather’s wife, and aunt have been longing for you ever since they knew you had come to Chang’an. Quickly, go in and see them.”
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