Year 20 of Yuanshou, first day of the year. The wind and snow had eased, the sky was clear and bright.
New year, new spirit—the servants of the Pei household all donned fresh jackets. Male servants wore brown lined jackets, sashes of red tied at their waists. The maidservants wore sleekly braided hair bound with festive red cords; all faces were smiling, cheerful, bowing and exchanging greetings of new year’s health.
When Shen Yujiao woke, she saw Xiaying and Dongxu dressed in purple-red spring silk jackets, while Bai Ping and Qiulu wore scallion-green jackets patterned with “Five Blessings Bearing Longevity.” The four stood neatly on either side, faces beaming with comfort, bowing to greet her: “Happy new year, my lady! We wish you peace and fortune, blessings and longevity in the spring to come!”
When she woke to see those lively, radiant, smiling faces, Shen Yujiao’s mood also lifted. Supporting her belly, she slowly rose from the bed and smiled at them, saying: “New year, new blessings—may you also be safe, as you wish, and everything go smoothly.”
As she spoke, Qiao Momo, her hair combed neatly into a round bun, came forward with a cheerful smile to greet her: “This old servant is getting on in years and could not stay up too late last night. This morning I’ve come to wish my lady a happy new year!”
“Happy new year, Momo.” Shen Yujiao’s eyes curved in a smile, and she glanced toward the doorway, asking Qiao Momo: “Isn’t it time to hand out the New Year red envelopes to the household?”
“Yes indeed.” Qiao Momo laughed, hands folded. “But my lady need not be in such a hurry. You are with child—take your time. It won’t hurt the servants to wait a little outside.”
“Then I’d better be quick.” Shen Yujiao shook her head lightly with a smile. “In this bitter winter, standing out in the cold is no good—it wouldn’t do to let them freeze.”
“My lady is kindhearted.” Qiao Momo said, then ordered Dongxu and the others to prepare the red envelopes and silver. She herself attended to Shen Yujiao’s washing and dressing:
“Once the household rewards are given out, we’ll have to go pay New Year’s visits to the Pei family uncles. Our lord is thoughtful—he checked over the New Year gifts early this morning and had them loaded onto the carriage. As soon as my lady is ready, you can go straight aboard.”
Shen Yujiao was taken aback. “He arranged it all this morning?”
Seeing her surprised face reflected in the bronze mirror, Qiao Momo chuckled: “Indeed, isn’t my lady blessed to have found such a considerate husband?”
Shen Yujiao’s cheeks reddened slightly, but she gave no reply.
Because it was the first day of the new year and they were going visiting, she dressed with care—her hair in a ruyi double-ring bun, a brocaded jacket of Xiang-colored embroidery, with a smoke-blue satin skirt, and a necklace of golden filigree set with rubies. She glittered with jewels, dazzling and graceful, like a spring crabapple blossom touched with dew.
After a simple breakfast, just a few bites from the Spring Tray, Shen Yujiao sat at the front courtyard gate, watching the household servants line up to offer their new year’s greetings one by one. She handed out red envelopes in return, for good fortune.
“My lady, new year’s blessings! Wishing you health in the new year, and all things as you desire!”
Receiving their rewards, the servants were delighted, thanked her repeatedly, and bustled away in high spirits.
When affairs in the household were settled, Shen Yujiao, supported by her maids, went to the front courtyard.
When she reached the study, Pei Xia was at his desk, brush in hand, painting.
“Lanjun is in fine spirits—painting on the very morning of New Year’s Day.”
Curious, Shen Yujiao leaned closer, and on the white paper saw, drawn diagonally in the upper left, a single branch of red plum. She smiled: “Is that the plum blossom from the corner of the wall last night?”
Seeing her arrive, Pei Xia put down his brush. “Yes—and no.”
“Hm?” Shen Yujiao asked.
“I had meant to compose a spring verse. But once I raised my brush, somehow it became a painting instead.”
Pei Xia’s thin lips quirked. “A casual sketch only—unworthy of your eyes, Yuniang.”
“If you call this a casual sketch, then my drawings are nothing but chicken scratches.” Shen Yujiao glanced again at the painting—a single plum blossom taking only a small part of the paper. “It leaves too much blank space. You could add something more below.”
“Oh?”
“Birds, flower branches, pavilions, towers?” Shen Yujiao thought a moment, then laughed. “Or paint a beauty, and it would become a ‘Lady with Winter Plum Blossoms.’”
It was no more than a playful remark. But Pei Xia gazed at the white paper, thoughtful. “I rarely paint figures.”
If he did, it was fishermen casting lines in winter rivers, woodcutters in mountain forests, shepherd boys playing their flutes…
Never had he painted a lady.
His calm gaze slowly fell upon Shen Yujiao’s face. Suddenly, interest stirred. He said: “What if I were to paint Yuniang into it?”
“Me?” Shen Yujiao was startled. Under his steady gaze, her cheeks flushed warm. “I… I’m heavy with child—what beauty is there to paint?”
Pei Xia said: “Pregnancy is filled with hardship. If I record your likeness now, then when our child grows up, we can show it this painting, and let it know the toil of being a mother.”
At that, his voice fell silent.
From his silence, Shen Yujiao also understood.
On the first morning of the new year, one should first go to greet one’s parents and elders.
Though they had already sent gifts and a letter to Luoyang some days before, Madam Wang, alone in the old residence, passing the new year by herself… it must be hard indeed.
“Lanjun.” Shen Yujiao forced down the heaviness of guilt in her heart and squeezed out a smile, tugging at his robe sleeve. “The carriage is ready. Let’s first go to the clan uncles to offer our greetings. When we return, if you are still in the mood, I will sit for you to paint.”
Pei Xia glanced at her hand, lifted his own to clasp it, and curved his lips ever so slightly. “Very well.”
The couple, by tacit agreement, chose not to speak further of that matter, and hand in hand walked out together.
The new year begins, all things renewed.
At every household gate, new peach charms had been hung; the door gods Shentu and Yulei painted on the panels stood bold and majestic in the wintry wind.
Among the Pei clan, many held office in court. But of those closer to Pei Xia’s branch, there were only three: the clan uncle Pei Yan, Junior Mentor to the Crown Prince; and two others—Pei Yun, Jijiu of the Imperial Academy, and Pei Xingqiu, Zhongshu Shilang.
On the first day of the new year, Pei Xia and Shen Yujiao went to pay New Year calls to these three Pei relatives.
On the second day, early in the morning, the couple went to the Li residence to greet her maternal grandparents.
By good fortune, Shen Yujiao’s maternal aunt, Madam Li, had also returned to her parents’ home with her two daughters for the new year. The whole family gathered happily, sharing a joyful lunch together.
Speaking of Shen Yujiao’s aunt, Madam Li, when she married into Marquis Yongwei’s household, Li Conghe was still only a fourth-rank official. That marriage could be considered the Li family marrying up. For the sake of his reputation, Li Conghe originally had no wish to agree to this match, but the aunt and uncle had secretly developed feelings for each other—she would marry no one but him, and he would wed no one but her.
In short, there had been some minor twists and turns at the time. Mother never told Shen Yujiao the details, but in the end, Madam Li did marry into the Yongwei Marquisate as she wished, and one could say the lovers finally became husband and wife.
Only, she bore him but two daughters. For this she endured endless difficulties from her mother-in-law, ridicule from her sisters-in-law, and in helplessness, when the second cousin was only two years old, she swallowed her grief and admitted two concubines for her husband, so that heirs could be produced.
But the fact that she never bore a son remained a wound in her heart she could not let go of all her life, and it became one of the reasons her position in the Marquis’ household was so precarious—
Whether it was the elder sister-in-law above her or the younger sisters-in-law beneath her, all of them had eldest sons of the main line. Only her branch did not. She always felt it even dragged her husband down, leaving him unable to raise his head within the household.
Shen Yujiao, in fact, was very fond of this gentle and kind-hearted aunt, and knew that her aunt truly cherished the girls of the family. But within the inner residence, to have a “male heir” was indeed something that could greatly improve a woman’s situation.
This day, the family was rarely all together, gathered in joy and laughter. Even old Madam Li, who was usually muddle-headed, was uncharacteristically clear-minded for a while.
It was only at dusk that everyone reluctantly took their leave. Before departing, Madam Li invited Shen Yujiao to come to the Yongwei Marquisate on the tenth for a banquet.
The Marquisate’s Old Madam would be celebrating her seventieth birthday.
Since her aunt extended the invitation, and her aunt-in-law Madam Song would also be there that day, Shen Yujiao thought that since she would be living long-term in Chang’an, she would inevitably need to attend such social gatherings between households. With her aunt and aunt-in-law helping to make introductions, she agreed.
In the following days, Shen Yujiao accompanied Pei Xia to visit several more relatives, and it was not until the fifth day of the new year that things finally quieted down enough for her to rest properly in her own courtyard.
In the blink of an eye, the tenth day arrived—the Yongwei Marquisate’s birthday banquet.
Pei Xia had originally planned to accompany her, but the Second Prince suddenly invited him to a banquet. Shen Yujiao told him to go take care of serious matters; besides, Pei Xia had not yet entered officialdom, and there were no official ties between him and the Marquisate of Yongwei. She alone would be enough for the occasion.
Since it was her aunt’s household, Shen Yujiao had been there several times before. Taking her two maids, Xiaying and Dongxu, and carrying the birthday gifts, she went there easily and familiarly.
This was, since the Shen family’s downfall, her first appearance before the noblewomen of Chang’an—
In the capacity of a Pei clan wife, and the adopted daughter of Consort Xian.
Naturally, the noblewomen attending could not conceal their sidelong glances and murmured discussions upon seeing her.
Shen Yujiao paid them no mind, walking steadily up to the Yongwei Marquisate’s Old Madam Qi, her face adorned with a gentle smile. She curtsied and said, “It has been a year since we last met, and Old Madam is still so spirited and radiant. Today, on your seventieth birthday, Yuniang wishes Old Madam brightness like the sun and moon, and longevity like the pine and crane.”
When Old Madam Qi first heard her second daughter-in-law had invited Shen Yujiao, she had been somewhat displeased. After all, the Shen family had been imprisoned for their failure in constructing the pagoda. For the Shen family’s daughter to come offer her birthday wishes—was that not somewhat inauspicious?
But the eldest daughter-in-law had whispered in her ear: “A married-out daughter is like water poured out. Do not dwell on her being of the Shen family. Remember instead that she is a Pei family wife. Her husband dared to decline His Majesty’s gracious decree to admit him directly into the Hanlin Academy, saying that he would sit for the exam himself next year. Such words—without absolute confidence, how many under heaven would dare boast so?”
Old Madam Qi thought it over and found it reasonable. Looked at as a Pei family wife, she was indeed a relative worth keeping up with.
Thus, hearing Shen Yujiao’s birthday wishes, her face softened into a kindly smile: “Good child, no need for such formality. To come with child and still offer this old woman your felicitations—how thoughtful of you.”
As she spoke, she glanced at Madam Li beside her, her smile not quite reaching her eyes: “Yanniang, today you must take good care of your niece—do not neglect her.”
Madam Li laughed and replied, “Mother may rest assured, this daughter-in-law will look after Yuniang well.”
After more polite exchanges, as new guests came forward with congratulations, Shen Yujiao followed her aunt to a flower hall to rest, chatting with her aunt’s two daughters—her nineteen-year-old cousin Baoyan and her fourteen-year-old cousin Baoshu.
In the flower hall, a brazier was burning. On the table were set various cakes, fruits, roasted seeds, and preserved snacks. As they ate and talked, before long, several newly-married young women also came to sit with them.
Everyone was about the same age. Though not well acquainted, they chatted here and there, and at a glance, it seemed quite lively and pleasant.
No one knew who suddenly brought it up, but someone mentioned a recent bit of gossip in Chang’an: “I hear the young shizi of Marquis Zhennan has returned to the capital. Among his personal guards, there is a very handsome man. Not only is his appearance outstanding, he’s also skilled in martial arts.”
“And then?” someone asked while cracking melon seeds.
“And then—” the speaker lowered her voice, whispering, “It’s said that after the New Year’s Day palace banquet dispersed, that guard came to the palace gate to escort the young shizi home. By coincidence, they happened to run into the carriage of Princess Jinhua.”
She did not finish the sentence, but everyone present had heard of Princess Jinhua’s amorous reputation.
A handsome man meeting the Princess—what happened after, one could well imagine.
At once, the women all exchanged looks, their expressions full of that tacit, indescribable understanding. Finally, they chuckled and said, “Then that guard is truly fortunate, isn’t he?”
“Indeed.”
To latch onto such a golden branch—if he serves her well, could he fear for his future?
“Speaking of which, did the Huo family send anyone to today’s banquet?”
“They did, I think? Just earlier I thought I saw Madam Huo herself up front…”
“Did Young Shizi Huo come?”
“What you really want to know is whether Young Marquis Huo came, or whether that handsome guard came, isn’t it?”
“Oh, you shameless thing!” The young lady blushed scarlet and laughed as she scolded, “See if I don’t tear your mouth!”
“That guard definitely couldn’t come. At this hour he should be busy over at the Princess’s residence.”
At that, everyone covered their lips and laughed in low voices. Shen Yujiao listened to their chatter without joining in, slowly peeling the roasted orange in her hands, thinking only of when the banquet would finally begin.
As the child in her belly grew, so too did her appetite. If not for Qiao Momo strictly controlling her diet, she could easily eat eight meals a day.
At long last the banquet was served. After eating her fill, the young ladies bustled about, arranging to play pitch-pot, but Shen Yujiao had eaten too much and was growing drowsy.
Madam Li, having once been pregnant herself, knew well how a heavy body made one easily weary. “Why don’t you go sleep a while in my courtyard first? When things up front settle down, I’ll come and fetch you.”
Shen Yujiao did not stand on ceremony with her aunt. “Aunt, you go on and tend to your matters. I know the way to your courtyard well enough, I can go on my own.”
Madam Li nodded. “All right. Zhou Momo is in the courtyard. Once you see her, she’ll take care of you.”
Zhou Momo was Madam Li’s dowry servant, and had watched Shen Yujiao grow up since she was a little girl.
After exchanging a few words with Madam Li and her two cousins, Shen Yujiao took Dongxu and Xiaying with her to Madam Li’s quarters.
When she was young, Shen Yujiao often came to visit her aunt’s courtyard. The year her elder cousin Baoyan married, she had even stayed here for half a month. The very room she had lived in then was still kept for her now.
Seeing her arrive, Zhou Momo was overjoyed. She hurried to have the brazier lit in the room, new bedding and pillows laid out, then said with a face full of motherly affection: “Yu Niangzi, rest easy. This old servant will go to the kitchen and make you a bowl of red bean rice-cake soup. I still remember how that was your favorite back in the day.”
That the old woman still remembered her tastes warmed Shen Yujiao’s heart. In the same soft tone as in the past, she acted spoiled: “Zhou Momo’s red bean rice-cake soup is never too sweet or greasy, it suits my taste the best.”
“As long as my young miss likes it.” Zhou Momo smiled, but then seemed to recall the Shen family’s fate, and couldn’t help dabbing at the corner of her eye, her voice catching: “You rest now, this old servant will withdraw.”
With the bedding, brazier, and incense all arranged, Zhou Momo led Xiaying, Dongxu, and the other servants away.
The room that had just been bustling grew quiet at once.
The gilded incense burner sent up the sweet fragrance of pear-blossom sachet. The canopy bed was hung with smoky pink gauze, the pillows and quilt of pale bluish satin, embroidered with blooming lotuses in matching sets. Fearing she might still be cold, Zhou Momo had even laid on an extra thick blanket of lotus-pink brocade scattered with flowers. Everything was thorough and meticulous.
Shen Yujiao thought inwardly: it truly was the old, familiar servants who could put one most at ease.
She walked to the bedside and sat down, her slender fingers loosening the ties of her outer robe. She took off the jeweled hairpins and ornaments from her head, and was just about to remove her earrings when suddenly, from the slanted flower window, came two sharp crack sounds.
Shen Yujiao froze mid-motion, thinking it must have been her imagination.
But the next moment, that rattling noise came again from outside the window.
Shen Yujiao: “…!”
Her heart tightened at once. Could it be a rat? Or some bird or beast outside?
Yet the sound didn’t quite resemble that of an animal.
After a moment’s thought, she rose, picked up a long-necked porcelain vase at hand, and cautiously moved toward the flower window.
Before she even reached it, the window was suddenly pushed open. A tall figure appeared there, caught in the act of climbing inside.
Shen Yujiao: “Ah—!”
“Jiaojiao, don’t shout—it’s me!”
A man’s voice, deliberately lowered, sounded. He leapt nimbly in through the window and quickly raised his face.
The clear winter sunlight streamed in through the open window, falling across his striking features—sword brows, starry eyes, a face of extraordinary beauty. Shen Yujiao’s breath caught at once, and she stood dumbfounded, wondering if she were dreaming.
From outside came Dongxu’s concerned voice and the sound of the door being pushed: “My lady, what happened?”
Shen Yujiao jolted back to herself and hurriedly called out: “No—nothing! I just bumped my leg by accident.”
“Was it bad, my lady?”
“No, no, it’s fine. Don’t come in—I was just about to sleep!”
“All right, then my lady should rest well.”
Dongxu closed the door again and withdrew: “This servant will be right outside. Call if you need anything.”
Shen Yujiao let out a long breath. Looking again at the man before her—his lips carrying a faint smile, his narrow eyes fixed deeply upon her—her mind went blank, unable to believe it.
An illusion? Or… a dream?
Otherwise, how could she be seeing Xie Wuling—
Here, in her aunt’s courtyard…
An illusion. It must be an illusion.
She blinked hard, then opened her eyes again. The man was still there, even shutting the flower window behind him as he stepped toward her.
Shen Yujiao’s gaze trembled: “…!”
Xie Wuling looked at the little lady he had thought of day and night. Half a year apart, she was still so beautiful.
Her outer robe had been taken off; now she wore only a pale cyan-gold patterned silk cross-collared long shirt, with a light green pleated skirt. Her shoulders and back were slender, her belly high and round.
Though she had removed her ornate hair ornaments, it did not hide the luster of her thick black hair, her delicate brows and bright teeth. Whether it was due to her pregnancy or the warmth of the brazier, her already fair and fine skin was tinged with a radiant blush, making her all the more luminous and dazzling.
Judging by her complexion, she must have been living well these days.
As Xie Wuling studied her, Shen Yujiao too stared blankly at this man who seemed to have fallen from the sky.
Half the carved window was filled with falling snow. He wore a dark red robe with side slits, bound with a leather belt, a long blade at his hip, black boots on his feet. Those pitch-black eyes of his—always brimming with heat and light—were now fixed on her, blazing and unflinching.
That heat carried far too much within it, as though it would melt her like molten lava under a scorching sun.
It was him.
In this world, only Xie Wuling possessed such a pair of bright, burning eyes.
The surge of emotion came belatedly—Shen Yujiao’s nose stung, her rosy lips trembled, wanting to speak but finding the words stuck in her throat.
Seeing the mist slowly cloud over her eyes, Xie Wuling quickly gathered away his smile, striding forward: “Jiaojiao, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Shen Yujiao bit her lip, still gazing at him in silence.
“I truly didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just, there are always so many maids around you—I couldn’t find a chance to speak with you. Only when they all left could I come.”
Seeing the trembling sheen of her tears, half grievance, half reproach, Xie Wuling took the long-necked porcelain vase clutched in her hands and set it aside. Then stepping to her, he seized her hand: “If you’re angry, just hit me twice, vent your anger?”
He even tilted his face toward her, ready for her to strike.
Feeling the searing warmth of his grip on her wrist, Shen Yujiao snapped back to herself and hurriedly pulled away: “Xie Wuling, you… don’t be like this.”
At hearing her finally speak, and even call his name, Xie Wuling’s eyes lit up with joy as he looked at her: “Jiaojiao, you still remember me.”
Shen Yujiao blinked: “I’m not senile.”
“I don’t care.”
He laughed, eyes gleaming like a child finally given candy after waiting so long: “As long as you haven’t forgotten me, that’s enough.”
Only then did Shen Yujiao recall the last words he’d said when they parted in Jinling.
So he had been worrying about this all along?
A fresh ache welled up in her chest. She pressed her lips together, lifted her face toward him. The words “How could I ever forget?” rose to her tongue, but suddenly felt ill-timed, and she swallowed them down, only asking instead in a muffled voice: “Why are you here?”
“It’s a long story.”
Xie Wuling spoke, then noticing she was only in an outer robe, her hair loose, his tone softened: “Go lie on the bed first, I’ll tell you slowly.”
But when he met Shen Yujiao’s startled, flustered glare, he realized the ambiguity of his words. Hastily pressing a fist to his lips, he coughed: “I mean, I don’t want you to catch a cold. You lie down, I’ll sit beside you and talk… I won’t lie down.”
“Stop talking.” Shen Yujiao, seeing him only making it worse, lowered her head and simply turned toward the bed.
Xie Wuling hurried after her.
His gaze roved about the elegant room, filled with faint feminine fragrance. Casually, he asked: “The boudoir you lived in before—were they all like this?”
Shen Yujiao already knew his ways, never one for restraint. They had once lived together in the same small courtyard, so she couldn’t fault him for barging into a maiden’s room. She only picked up a light purple jacket and draped it over her shoulders, then sat at the bedside: “More or less.”
Xie Wuling’s eyes flickered, and he let out an unreadable hum.
Shen Yujiao glanced around, speaking softly: “Go fetch a stool and sit.”
But Xie Wuling didn’t move at once, only fixed his gaze on the wide empty space beside her on the bed.
Shen Yujiao’s heart skipped; a faint nervousness stirred.
Though they had nearly become husband and wife, now… she was Pei Xia’s wife.
And Xie Wuling—if one must name him—was probably as Pei Xia had said, an “old benefactor.”
“Xie Wuling.” Shen Yujiao gently pinched her palm, forcing a thin thread of steadiness into her voice: “Fetch a stool, don’t just stand there.”
Xie Wuling caught the evasiveness in her eyes, and the deliberate distance in her words, and his chest tightened.
He wanted her so badly—wanted to seize her, crush her into his arms, kiss her fiercely, whisper again and again in her ear how the days apart had gnawed at him like white ants eating his heart.
But reason told him—no.
That would only scare Jiaojiao, make her hate him, and push her further into that pretty boy’s arms.
In terms of status, he was no match for the pretty boy.
In family and power, he was no match for the pretty boy.
The only thing he could rival him with was the weight he held in Jiaojiao’s heart—for Jiaojiao had kissed him of her own accord, had wanted to become his wife…
“Fine, I’ll listen to you.” He answered, fetched a crescent stool, and sat before her: “Is this good enough?”
“…Sit farther.”
So close, his knees nearly touched hers.
Xie Wuling’s lips quirked. “Since I came to Chang’an, I’ve bathed every day. And today, knowing I’d see you, I even scented myself with incense…”
Saying this, he raised a long arm before her, utterly earnest: “If you don’t believe me, smell for yourself. It may not be as fragrant as you, but it’s still quite pleasant.”
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