Shen Yujiao froze.
Her body instinctively tilted back, fingers clasped tight in her lap. Her black eyes widened, flickering restlessly.
The man’s handsome face grew larger and larger before her, his clean, deep scent weaving around her like a net. Her breath caught—she wanted to draw away, yet reason told her this was her husband. She should not retreat.
Closer and closer… warm breath brushed her nose. Shen Yujiao softly closed her eyes.
Just as their lips were about to touch, a maid’s voice sounded from beyond the curtain: “Young Master, Madam, His Highness the Second Prince has come to call. Steward Zuo has led him to the main hall.”
The breath upon her skin halted abruptly.
Shen Yujiao’s lashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes.
For a moment, the two simply looked at each other. Eyes met, silence heavy with awkwardness.
Her heart thudded wildly. She quickly turned her face aside, her voice faint: “The Second Prince’s sudden visit must be for something important. Langjun… go, tend to your duties.”
Pei Xia glanced at her pale face, now tinted faintly pink like a peach blossom in spring. Words failed him; confusion he thought he had set aside once more welled up.
Why had he never noticed before—his wife was this endearing?
Or perhaps she had always been so, only he had been blind.
Matters between men and women… perhaps not so shallow and tedious as he once imagined.
When he still did not reply, Shen Yujiao whispered again: “Langjun?”
Pei Xia drew back his gaze. “Then I shall go to receive His Highness. You… rest well.”
Shen Yujiao kept her head lowered, not daring to look at him. “Mm. Go.”
Only when his footsteps receded from the couch did Shen Yujiao release a long sigh.
She propped herself against the cushions, eyes falling on the half pear left on the jade plate. She recalled the moment he had leaned close—the faint, lingering scent of pear in his breath.
Her slender fingertips brushed against her lips, her heart thudding wildly, a trace of confusion rising in her clear, glistening eyes.
Was he just now… about to kiss her?
That was truly too strange.
Nearly a year as husband and wife, and the number of times their lips met could be counted on one hand. From what she remembered, each time was during intimacy—when she could no longer endure and let out soft cries, or trembled as she called him “Langjun,” then he would bend down and seal her lips.
She had reflected afterward, thinking perhaps he disliked her making such frivolous sounds. Unable to say it outright, he instead used that method to silence her.
But it wasn’t her fault—she had tried to restrain herself. Yet sometimes her body’s reactions were beyond her control. Not everyone could remain so disciplined and self-contained as he.
And just now… he had leaned in first, as if to kiss her?
Shen Yujiao glanced at the window still lit with daylight, her willow brows furrowing in puzzlement. In broad daylight… it was as if she had seen a ghost.
It was not until deep into the night, when she was already lying in bed, that Pei Xia returned from the front hall.
From the lotus-petaled silver incense box on either side of the bed canopy, fine smoke of repose incense curled upward, filling the drapes with a soothing fragrance.
Shen Yujiao lay facing inward. Hearing the faint rustle beside the bed, she did not turn. Only when the man lay down beside her did she softly speak: “Langjun, you’ve finished your business?”
“Mm.” Pei Xia lowered the rose-colored curtain slowly. “Did I wake you?”
“No, I hadn’t yet slept.” Shen Yujiao hesitated a moment, then could not help but ask: “His Highness the Second Prince—why did he come to seek you?”
“It was about today’s petition for pardon in the hall.”
Pei Xia lay down. In the dim light, she showed him only her back. His thin lips pressed together. After a pause, he reached out, encircling her shoulder and slowly turning her toward him.
Feeling the pull on her shoulder, Shen Yujiao yielded and let herself face him.
She was thankful the canopy was pitch-dark, hiding their expressions and sparing some awkwardness. She grasped at a topic: “Did the Second Prince blame you?”
“Not blame, just a few words of reproach.”
Pei Xia held her. “I told you, His Highness is a benevolent man.”
“That’s good.” Shen Yujiao let out a quiet breath of relief. “But in the future—if it’s something else, I won’t meddle. Yet if it concerns me, at least discuss it with me first. Otherwise, my heart is never at ease.”
Even knowing he acted for her sake, the thought of consequences he might bear on her behalf made guilt rise unbidden.
He had already done so much for the Shen family—debts she might never be able to repay in this lifetime. She truly could not bear him taking on more.
“You speak as though we were outsiders,” Pei Xia said. “You are my wife. Your family is my family. For kin to help one another—such is only right.”
Shen Yujiao lowered her eyes.
How many things in this world were truly “only right”?
The bustling world was driven by profit; people came and went for gain. These two years she had seen the cold and warmth of human nature, and believed ever more firmly that nothing was owed, nothing was by right.
But regardless, for all Pei Xia had done, she was grateful.
She nestled closer into his arms, lightly resting her face against his chest. “Langjun.”
Pei Xia inclined his head. “Mm?”
“Nothing.” Shen Yujiao said, “I just wanted to call you once.”
Pei Xia stilled slightly, sensing her silent reliance. He patted her back gently. “It’s snowing again outside.”
Shen Yujiao murmured lazily, “Mm.”
Pei Xia: “Tomorrow, shall we go eat at that mutton hotpot place you mentioned?”
He remembered?
Shen Yujiao was a little surprised. “But aren’t you busy? In three months you’ll sit for the exams. Since returning from Huainan, you’ve been entangled in affairs without a moment’s peace to study.”
“One day won’t make a difference.”
His deep voice above her head carried a faint smile. “Tomorrow we’ll have the hotpot, then I’ll take you to see the snow at the Wild Goose Pagoda. After that, I’ll return to study—it won’t be too late.”
Since he said so, Shen Yujiao would not spoil the mood. She smiled lightly. “Then I’ll listen to Langjun.”
“Sleep.” Pei Xia lowered his head, his chin brushing her smooth forehead.
Held warmly in his arms, Shen Yujiao soon felt drowsy, and without realizing, drifted into sleep.
It was a deep slumber.
Perhaps because she knew that if Pei Xia succeeded at the spring examinations next year, her parents and brothers could be pardoned and return home, she dreamed of a reunion.
She and her mother and sister-in-law embraced in tears, while her father and brothers conversed and laughed with Pei Xia.
Suddenly, her little niece tugged at her sleeve, tilting up her face to ask in a childish voice: “Auntie, there’s someone watching us over there. Do you know him?”
She followed the direction her niece pointed, and saw, through a hazy white mist, a man in red robes holding a child. His face was bruised and swollen, yet his eyes shone bright and burning as they fixed on her. He forced a bitter smile. “Jiaojiao, have you forgotten me?”
“Jiaojiao, don’t forget me.”
“Jiaojiao…”
“Yuniang.”
Shen Yujiao awoke with a start, and met a pair of calm black eyes.
The man’s handsome face showed no emotion, but his eyes were like a snow-laden lake—remote and cold.
He sat by the bed, two long fingers gently wiping the cold sweat from her brow, his voice steady: “A nightmare?”
Shen Yujiao thought back to that dream— it wasn’t a nightmare, only that within its completeness, there was also an endless wistfulness.
But what could she do…
“It’s nothing, just a dream.” Shen Yujiao brushed aside Pei Xia’s hand that was wiping her sweat, forcing a slight smile. “Why is Langjun still here?”
Usually when she awoke, Pei Xia had already washed and gone to his study.
“Didn’t we say last night that today we’d go out to see the snow?” Pei Xia hadn’t gone to the front courtyard, but he had already washed and dressed.
Today he wore a mist-white long robe, its fabric embroidered with ink-threaded broken bamboo leaves—slender blades, sharp tips, lifelike, full of airy elegance. His black hair was lightly gathered, fixed only with a white-jade bamboo-leaf hairpin. Apart from the peace-charm at his waist, there was no other adornment.
Yet even with such simplicity, nothing could hide the innate nobility of his bearing. On the contrary, it set off his cold, fair features, pure as carved jade.
Shen Yujiao remembered last night’s promise and came back to herself, sitting up with a hand on her belly: “Then I’ll ask Langjun to wait a moment, I’ll get up now.”
Pei Xia steadied her at once, hand firm at her waist: “No rush, take your time.”
The air after snow was even drier and colder. In the courtyard the Chinese tallow tree had shed all its leaves, bare branches hung with glistening icicles. The servants, wrapped in thick jackets, carefully swept the thin ice from the ground.
Because she was going out to play with Pei Xia, Shen Yujiao did not dress in finery—only light makeup, hair in a falling-horse bun, and a pale violet jacket-skirt patterned with sprigs of blossoms.
Qiao Momo thought her too plain. From the dressing box she found a pair of vivid jade earrings for her to wear, muttering: “Though Madam is with child now and young master cannot be near you, still, it’s rare to go out together. You must dress up nicely—when young master sees, his heart will be glad.”
Saying so, she also took out a box of vermilion lip rouge and dabbed some on Shen Yujiao’s lips: “Don’t underestimate this time of pregnancy. You’re fortunate, having met a husband like Young Master Pei who doesn’t care for women. If it were another household, once the mistress was pregnant, they’d be choosing bed-maids for their lord already, lest his heart be hooked by some outside flirt. You two wed not long ago, and were apart for over half a year. Now that feelings are warm, that is a good thing. I say, Madam should seize the chance to bind young master’s heart well.”
Shen Yujiao answered absently, but inwardly she too thought—a nobleman like Pei Xia was indeed rare.
Perhaps being unromantic had its advantages.
Once dressed, Xiaying brought over a white fox-fur cloak and fastened it for her, while Dongxu held a wide, soft rabbit-fur hat and set it snugly on her head: “The wind outside is strong, Madam must keep it on, lest you catch a headache.”
Bundled up so, when Shen Yujiao walked before Pei Xia, she looked like a round little snowball, wrapped from head to toe, showing only a small snow-white face—bright eyes, gleaming teeth, tender and lovely.
Seeing her, Pei Xia’s long fingers behind his back unconsciously tightened.
So soft and fluffy—he very much wanted to squeeze.
In the end he restrained himself, only slipping an arm around her waist and gently reminding: “The road is slippery, walk slowly.”
—
The mutton hotpot Shen Yujiao often ate was in the West Market. Because of the snow, traffic was jammed, and it was past noon by the time they arrived.
They asked for a private room, ordered the pot, and Shen Yujiao was already very hungry.
When the waiter brought in the steaming, fragrant mutton hotpot, she didn’t stand on ceremony with Pei Xia—she immediately picked up her chopsticks and took a piece of meat.
Pei Xia rarely saw her so greedy. He couldn’t help looking at her twice, then picked up a porcelain bowl and ladled her some broth: “Eat slowly, careful it’s hot.”
Once she had satisfied her craving, Shen Yujiao belatedly realized she hadn’t been very dignified. She slowed her movements, smiling sheepishly: “You eat too—the broth here is very fresh. Drink a bowl and it warms you right up.”
“Alright.” Pei Xia set a bowl of broth before her, then slowly scooped a second bowl for himself.
Under her expectant gaze, he took an unhurried sip, then nodded: “Indeed, it is fresh.”
“Isn’t it?” Shen Yujiao laughed. “Their sheep are slaughtered fresh each day…”
But then she recalled—a gentleman stays away from the kitchen.
Ah, why say such things to Pei Xia?
She pursed her lips, lifted the bowl, and sipped her broth quietly.
Pei Xia, seeing her suddenly fall silent, only thought she had remembered past matters. He didn’t ask further, just picked up chopsticks and added more meat to her bowl: “Since you like it, eat more.”
After all, with the snow blowing and her pregnancy, it was rare for her to come out.
Outside the carved wooden windows, fine snowflakes fell again. The brazier burned red, the pot bubbled noisily, lamb’s freshness mingled with pepper’s spice, filling the whole private room.
Shen Yujiao and Pei Xia sat facing each other, most of the time quietly eating, occasionally exchanging a few words of household trivia.
With the New Year near, matters in the household multiplied. She not only had to arrange the festivities, but also prepare gifts for outside exchanges. Giving and receiving involved many intricacies—thankfully Qiao Momo was there to help, otherwise she alone would have worried herself bald.
When she spoke of these family dealings, Pei Xia listened quietly, from time to time offering a word or two, enough to give her a sense of direction.
The two of them sitting there over the pot, discussing and sharing—unwittingly, a gentle and steady warmth lingered between them.
After finishing off a pot of mutton, it was already afternoon, and the wind and snow had eased a little.
The two boarded the carriage together and headed toward the Wild Goose Pagoda.
Perhaps from eating too much, as the carriage rocked along, Shen Yujiao grew drowsy; her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, her head nodding like a pecking chick.
Seeing this, Pei Xia silently shifted closer, lifted her head gently into his hands, and guided it down onto his shoulder.
In that motion, Shen Yujiao hazily opened her eyes: “Langjun?”
“Sleep,” Pei Xia said. “I’ll wake you when we arrive.”
His voice was warm, carrying a reassuring strength. Shen Yujiao gave a soft hum, and let the drowsiness overtake her as she leaned against him.
Pei Xia lowered his gaze to the little head obediently resting on his shoulder.
Inside the dimly lit, gently swaying carriage, her delicate cheeks were as soft and white as curdled tofu, with a clear flush left from the hearty meal. Her fine brows arched gracefully, her lips were rosy and full—truly, the more one looked, the cuter she seemed.
This is my wife.
That voice deep within his heart suddenly stirred.
As though insisting, it added: and only mine.
After gazing at her quietly for a long while, Pei Xia leaned his head against hers, slowly closing his eyes.
Inside the carriage, husband and wife clasped fingers, leaning into each other in tranquil warmth.
By the time the carriage stopped at the Great Pagoda, the biting wind had once again brought drifting snow.
According to their original plan, the two were to stroll through the plum grove behind the pagoda. But perhaps because of her pregnancy, Shen Yujiao was ever more sensitive to the cold, and with her stomach full she felt lazier still. The moment she alighted from the carriage and was struck by the chill, she had no wish to move at all.
Yet she feared dampening Pei Xia’s mood. After all, before leaving that morning she had eagerly told him: “If you want to see the snowy scene of the pagoda, the plum grove behind is the best spot. From there you can see the white snow draping the glazed tower, and the cold plum blossoms defying the frost—no sight could be more perfect.”
Now, after saying so much, she wanted to go back on it…
Shen Yujiao reproached herself, blaming the weather. Why must the snow fall again just now?
Pei Xia read the reluctance she was too embarrassed to voice and did not expose her. He only said: “Snow makes the road difficult. Why don’t we skip the grove today? We’ll just offer three sticks of incense before the Buddha, and return home to rest.”
These words hit Shen Yujiao’s heart exactly. She lifted her face, her brows and eyes filled with delight: “Truly?”
Pei Xia’s lips curved faintly. “That happy?”
Meeting the teasing gleam in his eyes, Shen Yujiao knew he had seen through her laziness. She gave an awkward little laugh: “Who knew this winter would be so cold?”
And in previous winters when she walked the plum grove, her body had been light. She wasn’t like now, carrying a child in her belly.
“Plum blossoms bloom every year. It’s no harm to wait until next year.”
“Langjun speaks true.” Shen Yujiao nodded, then curved her eyes at him. “When the child is born next year, and my body light again, I’ll surely walk the snowy grove with you—never to shrink back midway.”
“Alright,” Pei Xia answered.
Shen Yujiao tugged at his sleeve. “Come, let’s go burn incense.”
No sooner had she spoken than a gust of icy wind swept past, making her shrink her neck and draw in a sharp breath: “So cold.”
Suddenly, warmth brushed her cheek.
Shen Yujiao started, looked up, and saw Pei Xia rubbing her face with his hand. She gasped: “Langjun?”
The man before her remained calm, gently brushing aside her hair at her forehead. “A snowflake stuck.”
Shen Yujiao blinked. “…”
If it was snow on her hair, why rub her face?
Before she could think further, he had already pulled her into his arms, his steady voice carrying the faintest trace of laughter: “Let’s go.”
Snow filled the sky, the world a vast expanse of white.
From the pavilion not far away, Princess Shouan, clad in white fox fur, gazed blankly at the couple leaning close before the Great Buddha Hall.
So, that cold, jade-like gentleman of Hedong—in private with his wife—was actually so tender, so gentle as flowing water…
She too wore white fox fur today, from a distance looking much like the one draped over Shen Yujiao.
Why was it not her that Pei Shouzhen held in his arms?
Why was it not her that Pei Shouzhen looked upon with such smiling warmth?
Why… must it not be her?
“That langjun seems rather fine, but it’s too far to see him clearly.”
A sweet, coquettish voice cut into Princess Shouan’s thoughts.
She turned her head to see her own aunt, Princess Jinhua, wrapped in scarlet fur, her well-kept, strikingly beautiful face bearing a faint smile as she eyed her with teasing ambiguity: “Does Shouan fancy this kind?”
Princess Jinhua was the late emperor’s most beloved youngest daughter, and with her merits in helping the current Emperor Zhaoning ascend the throne, her standing among the nobles of Chang’an was beyond question.
Widowed at twenty, Emperor Zhaoning had once tried to find her another consort, but she refused. Not out of any deep affection to keep faith with her late husband—for rumor had it she killed her husband with her own hand. After rejecting the imperial marriage, she had hardly kept herself idle. For the next eighteen years, the Princess’s residence was almost nightly filled with revelry, never lacking in strong, youthful male companions.
It was even said that Princess Jinhua kept three hundred male favorites in her household.
Princess Shouan knew it wasn’t so exaggerated—thirty was the fixed number. Once they passed twenty-five, a batch would be dismissed, and new ones brought in.
Because of this frivolity and debauchery, the censors had impeached her many times.
Even Emperor Zhaoning had privately urged her to restrain herself. To which the Princess only replied: “My imperial brother has three thousand beauties in his harem. I, a princess of this dynasty, without a consort—what’s wrong with keeping thirty companions for amusement? Those so-called righteous officials, reading the sages’ books by day, secretly visit prostitutes and swap concubines by night, far more shameless than I. Must I, a dignified princess of the realm, still be policed by that pack of old fogies?”
She spoke with perfect self-assurance. Emperor Zhaoning, sulky as he was, could hardly truly argue with her over such a matter—
After all, she was not like the other princes, plotting rebellion or treason. Keeping a few male pets for amusement—let her be.
Since the emperor did not interfere, the ministers also dared not say much. Moreover, Princess Jinhua’s temper was perverse, vengeful over the smallest slight. Any censor who memorialized against her, without exception, would be repaid—at the lightest, their gates splattered with filth, at the heaviest, “accidents” befalling family members in their households.
Over time, no one dared speak of the Princess’s private quarters again, lest they provoke this ruthless, “mad” woman.
So when her aunt asked just now, Princess Shouan’s heart gave a jolt, and she quickly said: “No, Aunt, you mustn’t make wild guesses.”
“Wild guesses? Your eyes are near glued to that gentleman,” Princess Jinhua said, her beautiful face blooming with a bright smile. “If you like him, then admit it—what’s so wrong with that?”
“Aunt.” Shouan, after all, had a thin skin. Hearing this, she flushed and lowered her face in shame: “Please don’t say more.”
“Ah.” Princess Jinhua shook her head, then ordered the eunuch beside her: “Go, invite that gentleman here.”
Princess Shouan froze on the spot, then hurried to block her: “Aunt, you—you mean to summon him? Why?”
“Don’t you like him? Call him over, have a good look.”
“No, no, no, absolutely not.” Shouan shook her head frantically. “He… he’s no ordinary man, and besides, his wife is right beside him!”
Princess Jinhua drew out her voice in a long “Oh,” clearly intrigued: “So you know him?”
Princess Shouan bit her lip. “He is the sixth son of the Hedong Pei clan, Pei Xia.”
“So it’s him.” Princess Jinhua seemed enlightened. Gathering the flawless scarlet fur around her, she narrowed her eyes, recalling: “I think I glimpsed him once a few years ago. Mm, his looks were indeed rather refined.”
Only then he had still been young, not yet of age. Though handsome, he had been too tender—
A woman like her, well-seasoned in matters of love and pleasure, still preferred broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted men of strength—such were more diverting in the bedchamber.
“If you truly like him, then find a way to make him yours.”
Seeing her niece’s face full of shock, Princess Jinhua toyed idly with the dazzling bracelet at her wrist, smiling at leisure. “Why look at me like that? We are princesses—the most exalted women under heaven. If, even as a princess, one cannot obtain a man one desires, then what meaning is there in being a princess at all?”
Having said this, she turned her gaze to the snowy distance, the red curve of her lips lifting with mockery: “That would truly be… meaningless indeed.”
