The moon rose over the willow tops; night deepened and stilled.
Within embroidered curtains, Shen Yujiao lay with eyes closed, yet sleep would not come.
“Are you thinking of the case,” a man’s low, steady voice suddenly sounded in the dark, “or worrying about entering the palace tomorrow?”
Her eyelids fluttered; she turned her head slightly. “Langjun hasn’t slept either?”
Pei Xia gave a faint “mm.” “What I asked just now—you still haven’t answered.”
Shen Yujiao was silent for a while, then opened her eyes, staring at the dark canopy overhead. “Both.”
“When I was in the Ministry of Justice prison, Mother confided everything to me. Since Father entered office, every year the ‘tributes’ and ‘gifts’ he received, she recorded in an account book. The largest one was when an imperial merchant gave three thousand taels as a ‘calligraphy fee,’ asking Father to write the character for longevity, saying it was for his aged mother’s birthday…”
All the Shen family wrote with excellent hands, and when people came to request inscriptions, Shen Yujiao knew of it too.
She had vaguely felt something was wrong, and once mentioned it to her elder brother Shen Guangting. He had only said: “Water too clear has no fish. Before I entered office, I thought as you do. But what one learns from books remains shallow. Only upon stepping into officialdom does one learn that the bureaucracy has its own rules. Sigh, these are not matters for a young lady to trouble herself with. All you need know is that Father and I are not greedy vermin. Accepting a few small gifts is only to get things done more quickly, to benefit the people.”
Since her elder brother had already spoken so, Shen Yujiao could not press further.
“As for those few chests of gold the Ministry of Justice found in our manor, Mother said she truly does not know when someone planted them. If our family had really embezzled twenty thousand taels of gold, then what they found would hardly have been just a few chests.”
Thinking of her mother weeping in prison, Shen Yujiao’s heart swelled tight with sorrow, and her voice dropped: “We all know we were framed, but those chests of gold are undeniable proof. And the Shenghua Pagoda was built under my father and brother’s supervision—when it collapsed, that pile of ruins became ironclad evidence, guilt beyond dispute. Who would have thought the corrupt hand behind it all would turn out to be… Duke Ying.”
Twenty thousand taels of gold, and on the project for his own sister no less—the Sun family’s greed and black-heartedness knew no bounds.
“Langjun, I know your good intentions, but when the time comes to face His Majesty, best not bring up overturning the case again.”
Shen Yujiao turned onto her side, one hand propping her cheek, her gaze falling on the hazy upright outline beside her: “If you keep pressing, you’ll only be forcing the Emperor to punish his own maternal uncle, striking at the dignity of the imperial clan…”
And when it came to that, even if the truth came fully to light, the price paid would be far more tragic.
That price—neither she, nor Pei Xia, nor the Pei clan, nor the Li clan—could bear.
As her grandfather and the elders had said: now that the whole family’s lives could be preserved, that was already the best outcome.
Yet when she thought of her kin suffering far away in Lingnan, Shen Yujiao could not help but grieve, wishing she had wings to fly there, kneel before them, and cry out once: your daughter is useless.
Pei Xia too heard the helpless sorrow in his wife’s words. He drew her slender shoulders into his embrace.
Feeling the warmth of his body before her, the steady fragrance of sandalwood, like finding a blaze on a winter’s night, Shen Yujiao clutched at his robe with her fine fingers, and her head slowly leaned against that solid chest.
Neither of them spoke; for a while only their mingled breaths filled the tent.
Pei Xia was not skilled at comforting others, least of all women.
But seeing his wife so distressed, he felt he must do something.
After all, he was her husband—the other half she would rely on all her life.
The hand resting on her back patted lightly, like soothing a child. Pressing his lips to the soft fragrant crown of her head, his voice came low and steady: “Evil cannot overcome the just. Right and wrong, black and white, will one day be redressed. Yuniang, since I have promised to overturn the case for your family, I will not break faith with you.”
The delicate body in his arms stiffened slightly; then she slowly lifted her face. “But it is Duke Ying—the Emperor’s most honored uncle. I’ve heard that during Jing Wang’s rebellion, when assassins slipped into the palace feast to kill His Majesty, the courtiers fled in panic, but only Duke Ying risked his life to shield him.”
Although the assassin was quickly subdued by the Imperial Guards, in that moment of peril Duke Ying’s act of interposing himself deeply moved the Emperor.
The Emperor’s own mother had been a lowly palace maid. Mother and son lived in want, suffering constant humiliation. It is said that at the time Duke Ying, still a merchant, spent much silver to smooth the way and secretly aid his sister and nephew within the palace. This lifesaving kindness in the snow the Emperor remembered keenly. So when he ascended the throne, his first act was to posthumously honor his mother as Empress Dowager Xiaoci, bestowing her titles, holding rites for her, and, ignoring his ministers’ objections, moving her from the concubines’ tomb to be buried with the late Emperor. At that time the legitimate Empress Dowager Xiaoan was still alive; this act was nothing short of a slap in her face. Relations between mother and son grew strained, and the court boiled with uproar.
But Emperor Zhaoning followed his own will. His second act on the throne was to enfeoff his merchant uncle as Duke Ying, a ducal title hereditary and untouchable, ensuring everlasting honor.
“Langjun, you must have read the Fisherman chapter in the Songs of Chu? Qu Yuan said: ‘The world is all foul, I alone am pure; all men are drunk, I alone am awake—therefore I was cast off.’ I know your conduct is upright and pure, but since you have chosen to enter officialdom, on these matters of the court you should heed the counsel of your elders.”
Shen Yujiao’s tone was gentle: “Though I am a woman of the inner chambers, I grew up in an official’s household. Now my family has suffered such calamity, I’ve had my share of seeing the treacherous tides of court and the dangers of officialdom. You already burdened yourself with me and Mother-in-law; my heart feels heavy enough. If for my family’s sake you further offend Duke Ying, drawing the Emperor’s eye…”
Her fingers twisted tighter in Pei Xia’s robe. Her expression grew grave as she urged: “Do not act rashly. Even if you break your word, I will not resent you.”
Blame only the Emperor’s narrow partiality, blame the Shen family’s ill fortune, and accept it as bitter fate.
Pei Xia naturally understood her worries. His hand stilled, then instead gently rubbed her hair, with a hint of laughter: “In your eyes, am I such a rash, headstrong man, without sense or flexibility?”
Shen Yujiao, caught off guard by the intimacy of the gesture, only stared blankly.
Not rash, not inflexible—only too solitary in spirit, a little aloof, and bound always to the gentleman’s path.
But in this turbid world, the “Dao” he clung to simply had no road forward—unless he returned to hiding in mountains, a cloud-wandering crane.
Otherwise his end would likely be as Qu Yuan’s, choosing to drown in the Xiang River, his body swallowed by fish, rather than let his spotless white be sullied by worldly dust.
“Langjun, I…” Shen Yujiao bit her lip, a wave of helpless guilt welling in her chest. “If you had left me in Jinling, perhaps you would not have had to follow the Second Prince, wade into these troubled waters.”
“In Jinling, I already told you—there is no need to blame yourself for this.”
Pei Xia’s gaze dimmed slightly; his chin pressed more firmly to her brow, yet his tone remained calm: “That was my choice, to make amends for past mistakes. Besides, you know I have great ambition. Sooner or later, I would have entered official service… The Second Prince is virtuous, and he values me—this is a good thing.”
The only difference was a matter of a few years, that was all.
‘The sage does not cling stubbornly to things, but moves in harmony with the world.’
Pei Xia’s thin lips curved, as if with a trace of coaxing smile: “We who study, who seek wisdom, draw on the lessons of those before us so we may better understand and walk our own path. Yuniang, remember—your husband is neither Qu Yuan, nor the Fisherman. I am Pei Shouzhen.”
Pei Shouzhen, who follows his own way.
Hearing this, Shen Yujiao’s lashes trembled twice, her cheeks warmed: “It was my misunderstanding. Langjun, do not take offense.”
“I do not.”
Pei Xia fell silent for a moment, eyes lowered: “Though we have been wed nearly a year, we have seldom spoken so openly before. In truth, that is my fault.”
Those words of self-reflection softened Shen Yujiao’s heart; she shook her head: “It matters not.”
To begin now was not too late.
“As for overturning the case, I will not raise it with His Majesty for the time being. But rest assured—when the right moment comes, Father-in-law’s grievance will be redressed. Until then, they must endure some wrongs.”
At this point, how could Shen Yujiao not understand?
A new Emperor, new ministers; under Zhaoning’s rule, there was no chance of the case being reversed. But when a new sovereign ascended, perhaps there would be hope.
“Thank you,” Shen Yujiao said softly.
“I told you already—we are husband and wife, no need for thanks.”
Pei Xia’s chin brushed lightly across her forehead; he patted her back gently: “As for tomorrow’s audience with Consort Xian—she has always been magnanimous, and everyone knows you are her goddaughter. She will not treat you lightly. Go with an easy heart.”
His voice was calm as drifting clouds, and Shen Yujiao’s heart eased. Closing her eyes, she thought: too much worry is useless; best to take one step at a time.
—
The next day, Shen Yujiao rose early again, changing into attire more solemn than yesterday’s. Around her neck she wore a resplendent longevity lock necklace, glittering with jewels. Compared with yesterday’s gentle dignity, today her bearing was all stately grandeur of a noble household’s wife.
Pei Xia left with her, personally escorting her to the palace gates.
At Zhuque Gate, a steward eunuch from Xianling Palace already awaited with carriage and horses.
Pei Xia helped Shen Yujiao onto the palace carriage, his long fingers lifting the indigo beaded curtain. He gazed at her quietly: “Don’t be afraid—I will be here waiting for you to come out.”
Sitting inside the spacious, ornate carriage, Shen Yujiao met those deep, abyss-like eyes and smiled faintly: “All right.”
The curtain fell. The steward eunuch came forward smiling: “Lord Pei, be at ease. This old servant will see to the lady’s care.”
“Then I must trouble you,” Pei Xia nodded lightly, while Jinglin at his side swiftly slipped a pouch into the eunuch’s sleeve.
The eunuch weighed it without a flicker, bowed with deeper warmth: “My lord is too courteous.”
Under the winter sun, the jeweled carriage with its emerald canopy rolled slowly through the tall scarlet gates.
Pei Xia stood with hands clasped behind, eyes narrowing slightly at the three bold characters—Zhuque Gate—carved above the palace wall.
Meanwhile, Shen Yujiao rode some distance into the inner palace before alighting and changing to a soft sedan.
This was not her first time entering the palace, but before she had always accompanied her mother or sisters-in-law for banquets. Now she came alone.
Fortunately, the eunuchs and maids who came to meet her were all courteous, and she felt somewhat at ease.
When the sedan reached the depths of the palace and stopped before Xianling Palace, she dared not let her eyes wander for fear of breaching decorum. Supported by Dongxu, she followed behind the steward eunuch at a measured pace inside.
Outside, the air still held winter’s chill. Within, it was warm as early spring. Shen Yujiao felt her vision filled with gleaming treasures, sumptuous splendor. Even the floor tiles were carved jade, covered with brilliantly patterned dark rugs, soft and comfortable underfoot.
“Reporting to Niang Niang, Lady Shen of the Pei clan has arrived,” the eunuch intoned softly.
Within, a gentle, serene voice soon answered: “Let her in.”
“Yes.”
The eunuch turned, bowing low to Shen Yujiao: “Madam Pei, please.”
Steadying her breath, Shen Yujiao stepped forward.
Rounding an ornate seven-panel sandalwood screen, she saw within a stately noblewoman seated upon a carved rosewood chair.
She wore a saffron-gold brocade dress embroidered with cloud-dragons in colored silk, over it a crimson robe richly worked. Her hair was piled high beneath a peacock-blue crown, with twin golden phoenix hairpins at each side, and strings of luminous pearls dangling—radiance and majesty embodied.
At her side, upon a crescent stool, sat a maiden of tender years, clad in a fresh lotus-pink embroidered gown. A palace sash cinched her waist, her hair in a spiral topknot, eyes bright with watery luster, cheeks soft as cherry blossom—delicate and lovely, like a summer lotus just about to bloom.
These two were none other than Consort Yang Xian, and her daughter, Princess Shouan.
Shen Yujiao advanced, bowing with precise court courtesy: “This humble woman Shen pays respect to Niang Niang, and to Your Highness the Princess. May Niang Niang and the Princess enjoy eternal youth and long life.”
“Madam Pei, quickly rise.”
Consort Xian spoke gently, giving a look to the Momo in dark-green palace garb at her side.
The old Momo at once stepped forward, personally helping Shen Yujiao up, smiling kindly: “Madam is heavy with child, no need for such formality. Please, be seated.”
“Many thanks for the seat, Niang Niang.” Shen Yujiao walked to the stool on the right and sat down.
The moment she sat, she felt two gazes fall on her—one gentle, the other sharp, with a trace of scrutiny—lingering especially long on her belly.
She instinctively adjusted her posture, letting her wide sleeves quietly cover her abdomen.
Consort Xian noticed the small motion, cast a sidelong glance at Princess Shouan, and frowned slightly.
Shouan immediately lowered her eyes, lifted her teacup, and sipped as though nothing had happened.
“Two days ago, I heard that you and Gentleman Pei had come to Chang’an,” the Consort said with a smile. “But thinking that you had just moved here and must have many trifles to settle, I delayed inviting you to the palace until now. Is everything in order at home?”
Such a casual, homely opening caught Shen Yujiao a little off guard. Then, remembering her identity as the Consort’s “goddaughter,” she softened into a gentle smile: “Thank you, Niang Niang, for your thoughtfulness. Our household is more or less settled. Just yesterday, I was saying to Langjun that I ought to send in a calling card to pay respects. I hadn’t thought that upon returning from my grandfather’s, I would receive Niang Niang’s summons—it is truly a happy coincidence.”
The Consort saw that though she was a little nervous, her replies were steady and composed, and her gaze carried an extra trace of appreciation. She nodded slowly: “That shows we are bound by fate.”
“Niang Niang speaks truly.” Shen Yujiao smiled. “As the saying goes, ‘Fated ones will meet even across a thousand miles.’ If not for Niang Niang and Madam Cui lending your kindness, I would likely still be wandering outside, without today’s reunion of husband and child.”
As she spoke, she lightly touched the longevity lock necklace at her throat, sighing: “Madam Cui and Niang Niang are both great-hearted, like bodhisattvas come again. This necklace was the gift she gave me when we first met in Jinling.”
Hearing that it was her younger sister Madam Yang who had given it, the Consort looked again, her smile softening: “She has always been generous and warm with the younger ones. I too have prepared a gift for our first meeting.”
She turned to the Momo at her side: “Bring it here.”
Shen Yujiao rose in alarm: “Niang Niang is far too kind.”
“Sit, sit.” The Consort lifted a hand. “It is you who are too formal. The whole realm knows you are my goddaughter now. On a first meeting between mother and daughter, how could I not prepare a gift?”
Soon the Momo brought forward a powder-inlaid gilt box. When opened, it revealed a box full of radiant eastern pearls, a rarity in all the world.
Not only Shen Yujiao was astonished—even Princess Shouan’s eyes flashed with surprise as she cried softly: “Mother, aren’t these the tribute pearls from foreign lands at Mid-Autumn?”
The Consort shot her a glance: “What need for such fuss?”
She turned back to Shen Yujiao with a kind smile: “These pearls have not yet been drilled. Take them back, and whether you make pendants, rings, hairpins—it is up to you. I only thought their round fullness held a fine meaning: may you and your husband live in harmony and completeness.”
The gift was so precious, the words so gracious, that even though Shen Yujiao knew the Consort acted out of regard for the Second Prince and Pei Xia’s alliance, she could not help but feel touched. Rising, she bowed: “Then this common woman shall accept with respect, and receive Niang Niang’s wish for reunion and joy.”
The Consort’s well-kept face softened with a kindly smile: “Since you have accepted this gift, you also acknowledge me as your foster mother. Do not call yourself ‘this common woman’ anymore—call me Godmother.”
Shen Yujiao’s dark eyes widened slightly, hesitating: “This…”
But the Consort only gave her a gentle smile.
That smile carried a tender strength, like the sea that embraces all rivers. Shen Yujiao felt moved, and thought the Consort truly lived up to her title, virtuous and magnanimous.
“Then Yuniang thanks Godmother.”
“Good child.” The Consort nodded in satisfaction, and ordered Princess Shouan: “Shouan, come pay respects to your elder sister.”
Shen Yujiao’s heart skipped; she quickly waved her hands: “I dare not, I dare not…”
The Consort said: “There is order between elder and younger. You are one year older than she—this courtesy you should receive.”
Princess Shouan’s brows knit for a moment, then she bit her rosy lip, rose, and gave Shen Yujiao a salute of equals: “Elder Sister.”
Shen Yujiao hastened to return the salute: “Your Highness is too courteous.”
Having received the gift and established her new status, what followed was a session of polite and harmonious conversation.
The Consort wished to keep Shen Yujiao for the noon meal, but Shen Yujiao said Pei Xia was still waiting outside the palace. At this, the Consort teased: “So affectionate, such conjugal love! Then I will not keep you, lest Lord Pei grow anxious with waiting.”
“Niang Niang makes light of me.” Shen Yujiao lowered her head shyly, then rose to take her leave of the Consort and Princess.
Besides the box of pearls, the Consort also bestowed bolts of tribute silk, tribute tea, and nourishing supplements.
Shen Yujiao had entered empty-handed, but returned with such treasures that she felt quite embarrassed. Sitting in the soft sedan out of the palace, she thought to herself: No wonder Consort Xian manages the harem so well, and enjoys such fine repute among the ladies. With such gentle dignity and approachable grace, who could not like her?
Back at Xianling Palace, the Consort also praised Shen Yujiao’s manners—proper and measured. Catching sight of her daughter’s sulky face, she frowned slightly.
When the hall was cleared of attendants and only mother and daughter remained, she asked: “Who has provoked you, that you wear such an expression?”
Princess Shouan muttered: “No one.”
“Do not think that because you came to my palace so early this morning, I would not know what you were scheming.” The Consort smoothed the embroidery on her sleeve and fixed her daughter with a steady gaze: “Now that you’ve seen with your own eyes, will you finally give up?”
Princess Shouan bit her lip and said nothing.
“You— a princess of the realm, what kind of husband could you not find? Yet you must pine for a man already wed? If such words were spoken outside, it would be a disgrace.”
Consort Xian sighed, then went on: “Now you’ve seen with your own eyes—he and his wife are affectionate, and your god elder sister is carrying Pei’s child. However much you may like him, you must cut off those improper thoughts. Do you hear me?”
“Mother, if you wish to make her your goddaughter, I cannot stop you. But as for calling her my elder sister—I refuse.” Shouan curled her lips, her heart still burning with resentment.
When she first learned in summer that the Madam of the Pei clan had been killed, she was truly shocked. But once the surprise passed, a secret hope took root in her heart—
She knew it was wrong to feel glee at another’s misfortune, yet if that Shen woman’s fate was thin and she was never meant for Pei Shouzhen, it could not be her fault.
Before, with a marriage contract binding him, she could do nothing. But now that he was a widower, childless, he would surely take a second wife. If she were willing to marry down, who in all of Chang’an or Luoyang could compete with her for him?
She had already thought it through—when the army returned in triumph, she would petition Father to grant her the marriage.
Who would have thought that Shen would rise from death, be taken in as Mother’s goddaughter, and have her innocence vouched for?
Shouan was furious beyond measure. Hugging her pillow, she wept, feeling her mother terribly unfair. Knowing she loved Pei Shouzhen, why would she not grant her such a good match?
She had been so close to marrying him!
And now—not only would she not have him, she was expected to acknowledge Shen as her elder sister. By what right?
The princess felt the indignity choke her. With only a cursory bow to Consort Xian, she said: “Royal Mother, I am unwell. I will return to Lingxi Hall.”
“Niang Niang, what is this?”
A Momo outside, seeing the princess storm off, entered with puzzlement.
“Let her be.”
On her throne, the Consort raised a hand to rub her brow, her face helpless: “I truly do not know what potion she’s been bewitched with. With so many fine young men under heaven, why must it be only him?”
The Momo understood now and stepped forward to massage her shoulders: “Niang Niang, do not trouble yourself. Her Highness is at a rebellious age.”
“Don’t defend her. With that temperament, she must suffer some hardship before she learns steadiness.”
The Consort lowered her eyes to the glossy red agate prayer beads in her palm: “In two months the New Year will be here. It is time she be given a consort, to settle her heart. Go and fetch the registers of the households of Chang’an. In a few days, I will host a gathering and invite the ladies of the noble families.”
—
Outside the palace gates, Shen Yujiao lifted the curtain and looked out. Sure enough, her carriage still waited, and her heart settled.
Bidding farewell to the chief eunuch, she stepped onto the footstool with Dongxu’s support and climbed aboard.
As she raised the curtain and leaned half inside, she saw, in the dim light of the carriage, Pei Xia in a snow-colored robe, seated by the window. One hand propped his brow, his long eyes closed, resting.
Just then a clear shaft of light slipped through the window seam, falling squarely across the bridge of his straight nose, setting off his refined, jade-like face all the more.
Shen Yujiao stared, unwilling for a moment to disturb him.
But as if sensing her, the man by the window slowly opened his eyes, his voice still rough with the drowsy languor of waking: “You’re back?”
His eyes half-lidded, robe sleeve stirring, he reached a hand toward her: “Come sit.”
