Song of the Bright Moon Chapter 70

Fine drizzle, gentle breeze — a thousand willows veiled in green mist.

Perhaps because the weather was warming, the spring rain wasn’t melancholy; its soft threads wove through green willows and pink peach blossoms, lending the world a hazy, tender beauty.

That afternoon, when Shen Yujiao awoke from her nap, she asked the nursemaid to bring the baby over. With Qiao Momo’s assistance, she nursed the child herself.

For the past three days, she had been drinking carp soup with tongcao and using massage to help open the milk ducts. Though she could not compare to a wet nurse’s abundance, she could now barely manage a full feeding.

The first time, yesterday, she had been flustered and awkward, utterly unaccustomed to it.

But today, as she cradled the baby in her arms and loosened her robe, she no longer panicked. Following the nursemaid’s guidance, she adjusted her posture slowly and carefully.

Everything went smoothly. The room grew quiet, save for the soft patter of the spring rain outside and the gentle sound of the infant suckling contentedly in her embrace.

So tiny, jade-pure and snow-like in loveliness, his little face pressed against her chest, so tender and fragile, yet so reliant on her.

Looking at the child in her arms, Shen Yujiao only felt her heart about to melt completely.

When the child was still in her womb, she had often wondered what he might look like. Now, with the little one alive and breathing in her arms, he was more or less as she had imagined.

Skin white as snow, eyes dark as ink, features so pretty one could hardly tell boy or girl. Other than crying twice when hungry, he was quiet at all times, not the least bit troublesome.

“See how nicely Little Young Master eats,” said Qiao Momo, seated at the side, her clouded old eyes also brimming with affection. “Even when feeding, he’s this refined—when he grows up, he’ll surely be just like his father, a refined and courteous gentleman.”

Shen Yujiao looked at the baby’s round little cheeks, yet somehow her mind drifted back to Jinling, when Xie Wuling would, every few days, speak to her belly: “Xie Di, once you come out, Father will teach you and Xie Tian martial arts. Then the three of us will protect your mother together!”

He said it so often, that sometimes she, too, would picture that scene.

In a small courtyard, sunlight just right, she sat by the window embroidering, while Xie Wuling led two little boys practicing horse stances, barking out, “Waist and legs as one, punch straight! One, two!”

And the two little boys, following behind him, thrust out their tiny fists, piping in childish voices: “Hei! Ha!”

“Madam, Madam?”

“Mm?”

The two calls in a row pulled Shen Yujiao out of her thoughts. Coming back to herself, she saw Qiao Momo frowning, looking at her suspiciously: “I was asking whether you’ve thought of a name for Little Young Master? What are you smiling at all by yourself for?”

Shen Yujiao: “Was I smiling?”

When Qiao Momo’s confirming gaze gave her no escape, she said awkwardly: “I recalled some funny things from the past… You were asking about the child’s name? Didn’t we say we’d wait until Langjun comes back from the exams, and let him decide?”

“The formal name will of course be chosen by the lord, but as for the milk name, Madam can think of one.”

“A milk name…”

The first thing that popped into Shen Yujiao’s mind was “Xie Di.”

Though the first time she heard it she rather disliked it, after hearing it so many times, it had grown familiar and even pleasing to the ear.

But she knew well enough—this was her and Pei Xia’s child. He absolutely must not bear the “Xie” surname.

“Di… .” Shen Yujiao murmured: “Pei Di?”

“Madam means the ‘the blossoms of the tangdi tree’ or from ‘dignified and decorous’?”

Qiao Momo pondered a moment, then her aged face broke into approval: “This character is good. Di, from ‘wood.’ The Young Master was born in spring, when all things revive and flowers and trees flourish. Di also carries the meaning of brotherly closeness, of magnolia blossoms reflecting each other. As the legitimate eldest grandson of the Pei clan, and the future head of the family, he must one day shoulder the responsibility of the whole Pei lineage. They say family harmony brings prosperity—this name holds the meaning of uniting the kin. Yes, very good indeed.”

Shen Yujiao hadn’t expected her casual muttering to be met with such affirmation.

“If you ask me, it’s almost a waste to use this character as a milk name—perfectly suitable as a formal name.” Qiao Momo smiled. “When the lord returns, why not discuss it with him?”

Shen Yujiao pressed her lips together: “We’ll see then.”

After the child finished feeding, Qiao Momo reached out to take him and tried calling: “Di Ge’er.”

The little baby, full and content, squinted his eyes in a smile, even letting out a milk burp.

Qiao Momo exclaimed with joy: “Little Young Master likes this name!”

Shen Yujiao’s hand, tidying her clothes, paused as she lifted her eyes.

Qiao Momo called again: “Di Ge’er, tell your mother, do you like this name?”

The baby couldn’t speak, of course, but whether because he was full and happy, or because he truly recognized the name, his dark, grape-like eyes curved, and his little mouth lifted in a leisurely smile.

Shen Yujiao’s eyelid twitched. Was it her imagination, or why did she feel that this lazy, smiling look had a trace of Xie Wuling in it?

“Madam, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” Shen Yujiao collected herself, and said to Qiao Momo: “Don’t call him that for now. When Langjun comes back, I’ll discuss with him before settling it.”

Since her mistress had spoken, Qiao Momo didn’t dare call the name again, however much she liked it. She quickly agreed and handed the child to the wet nurse to take away.

Once Shen Yujiao had put her things in order, she didn’t go back to bed, but moved to the couch by the window to handle household matters.

Though they said a woman in confinement should rest well, to have her lie there doing nothing for a whole month—she would be stifled to death.

Qiao Momo kept her company at the side, and every so often, seeing her mistress staring absent-mindedly out the window, she very much wanted to ask: Madam, just who are you thinking of?

Outside, people said that Lord Pei and that Xie person from Marquis Zhennan’s household were the closest of friends, so deep in bond that even on the eve of the imperial exams, they went together to Pingkang Lane, drinking, listening to songs, talking through the night.

But Qiao Momo could clearly see—that the Lord and that Xie person weren’t friends at all. They were more like rivals, enemies locked in constant contest.

As for what enmity lay between them—

She glanced at the young mistress by the couch, snowy skin and flowerlike face, and heaved a long sigh in her heart. How had a noble daughter of a great family ended up entangled with such a lowly, base sort of man? If this ever spread, how could she hold her head up in the future!

Qiao Momo asked no more, but silently resolved that from now on, she must keep the rear courtyard tightly guarded, and never again let those messy, disreputable people come near to tarnish Madam and the Pei family’s reputation.

—

By mid-March, the weather grew warmer, and the last session of the spring examinations also came to an end.

Since Shen Yujiao was still in confinement and could not personally go to receive Pei Xia, she sent Bai Ping and Dongxu in her stead.

But after waiting and waiting, what came back instead was news that Pei Xia had been taken away by the Second Prince as soon as he walked out of the exam hall.

“Master said once he finishes with matters over there, he will return to the residence as soon as possible, and bids Madam not to worry,” the two maids bowed and reported.

Shen Yujiao was somewhat surprised that the Second Prince was so impatient. After being shut inside the exam hall for nine days, he would not even let anyone return home, but right at the gates of the hall he had impatiently carried him off. Then she thought again—perhaps there were important matters to be discussed?

Men had to busy themselves with state affairs; they must not be tied down by trivialities of the inner chambers.

“He likely won’t be back for the evening meal either,” Shen Yujiao lifted her hand to remove the jade earrings at her ears, and instructed unhurriedly, “Tell the kitchen not to prepare a banquet. What’s already been made, bring it up; what hasn’t, need not be done.”

To welcome his return, she had even, after waking from her nap, carefully dressed herself, changing into a skirt of brighter color. Even the child was changed into a little red robe and given a small official cap, looking like a little temple spirit boy, endearingly charming.

But now, all this preparation has been wasted.

To say she felt no disappointment at all would be a lie. After waiting so many days without seeing him, she could not help but feel a little desolate.

Just as she had expected, Pei Xia indeed stayed to dine at the Second Prince’s residence.

After bathing, she played with the child for a while, then, seeing the sky dark outside the window, no longer waited. Handing the baby to the wet nurse, she went to bed by herself.

Perhaps because her mind was occupied, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep until the sky was already faintly light, and at last she could not hold out, her eyelids sinking shut.

In the half-dream, half-wakefulness, she seemed to hear footsteps outside the bed curtains.

But she was far too tired, unwilling even to lift her eyelids, holding on to the last trace of clarity, just listening to the sounds outside.

The steady footfalls came closer and closer, then there was the rustle of clothes being shed.

Until the brocade quilt was lifted, and a tall, warm male body drew her into its embrace from behind. The familiar, deep sandalwood scent rushed to her nose, and Shen Yujiao’s suspended heart finally settled back down.

Drowsiness was heavy, yet reason forced her awake by a degree. She lifted her elbow slightly, pressing it against the man’s chest behind her: “Langjun?”

The man behind her seemed to stiffen, then drew closer, the high bridge of his nose brushing against the side of her neck: “Did I wake you?”

Shen Yujiao: “…”

She hadn’t slept at all.

“How is it Langjun only returns at this hour?”

“I wanted to come back last night, but Second Highness was drunk, and kept me talking.”

Pei Xia closed his eyes, his magnetic, low voice carrying a trace of weariness: “At dawn, once the ward gates opened, I rode straight back.”

The day before, as soon as he left the exam hall, the Second Prince had personally taken him to his residence, and with a face full of guilt and remorse confessed that the one behind Huang Momo’s deeds was none other than his own younger sister, Princess Shouan. Holding a rod of brambles in hand, he had apologized to him again and again.

After several rounds of wine, the Second Prince was drunk and lost his composure, even pulling Pei Xia to sit with him, clutching his arm and weeping: “Shouzhen, I truly wronged you in my heart. No matter how I calculated, I never thought it would be my foolish sister who did such a monstrous thing. When my Royal Mother told me, I will not hide it—I even had the impulse to draw my sword and kill her… But, but, she is after all my sister born of the same mother. I hate her malice, I hate her stupidity, yet I cannot truly kill her…”

“These past days, I don’t even know how I got through them. To think that for her selfishness, she nearly harmed your wife and child—my face feels as if it has been slapped several times over. You devote yourself wholly to assisting me, yet my own kin stabs you in the back. Shame, I am deeply ashamed!”

“Shouzhen, rest assured, a capital crime may be spared, but living punishment cannot be avoided. Since she has done such a wrong, Royal Mother and I will not shield her. Only, before that, Royal Mother will bring Shouan before Royal father to confess her crimes. Royal father’s meaning is that this concerns the dignity of the royal family, the truth must never be exposed…”

If the world learned that the Emperor’s daughter, out of jealousy, had laid murderous hands on a woman in childbirth, the imperial family’s honor would be ruined, and likely the chronicles would record it, leaving disgrace for a thousand years.

Emperor Zhaoning already bore shame for his birth mother’s status; if in his old age he also raised such a venomous daughter, who knew how posterity would mock him.

He would never permit such a thing to happen.

Thus, the final decision reached by the Emperor and his consort was this: Huang Momo’s death was self-inflicted. For indeed, in the delivery she had been negligent, nearly costing Madam Pei her life; fearing punishment, once she entered the Ministry of Justice she was so terrified she died of fright.

The case was handed over to the Dali Temple, and before long an official judgment would be issued. Once settled, there would be no room left to overturn it.

“But Shouzhen, be at ease. Royal Mother said, so long as you are willing, she will have Shouan brought in person to your residence, to kowtow and beg pardon from your wife. Moreover, Royal Mother has already found her a husband—she is to be married to the eldest prince of Nanzhao. The preparations are already being made in the palace. By the latest, early next spring, she will be wed to Nanzhao.”

Nanzhao was remote, no better than Lingnan. Though its environment was not miasma-ridden like Lingnan, it was still a barbarian land, yet untouched by civilization.

Even though Pei Xia was brimming with resentment, when he heard that Princess Shouan was to be sent off to Nanzhao, for a moment he was at a loss for words—

According to Great Liang’s laws, an attempted murderer was to be exiled three thousand li.

This arrangement by Consort Xian—though termed marriage, was in truth no different from banishment.

If even after such a handling he still harbored dissatisfaction, it would seem he was too greedy, never knowing contentment.

So when the Second Prince personally poured him a cup of wine, he hesitated for a moment, but still accepted it.

Seeing him drink, the Second Prince was overjoyed, tears streaming down his face: “Good Shouzhen, my good Shouzhen, since you’re still willing to drink a cup with me, the weight I’ve carried these past days can finally be put down. From this day on, I will treat it as though I have no sister, only you as my one good brother…”

The Second Prince gripped his hand tightly, lifted his tear-filled eyes to him: “Shouzhen, you will still be loyal to me as before, won’t you?”

Pei Xia knew, those born into the imperial clan were all natural-born actors.

Yet at the moment the Second Prince clasped his hand, he suddenly found himself somewhat unsure.

For the tear-streaked noble in front of him looked too sincere—so sincere it was as if he wished to bare his heart for him to see.

Besides, things had already come to this point—what else could he do?

Even before choosing his lord, he had known: this master was virtuous, magnanimous… and far too soft.

This bond of ruler and subject—he would take it step by step and see.

“Your Highness, rest assured. The oath I swore in Jinling, I have not forgotten.”

“Good, good, good! With those words, I am at ease.” The Second Prince lifted his sleeve to wipe away tears, refilled his cup: “Come, drink! Tonight we do not part till we’re drunk.”

In the end, the Second Prince drank himself under, and Pei Xia did not return home until dawn.

“Langjun, did you drink last night?”

The soft voice in his arms drew Pei Xia’s heavy thoughts back. He lowered his head slightly: “Does the wine’s scent bother you?”

Before coming, he had bathed and changed clothes; the beard that had grown during nine days in the examination hall he had also shaved clean, no longer disheveled as he was when leaving the hall.

“I don’t smell any wine.” Shen Yujiao shook her head. Though still heavy with sleep, she asked the question she cared for most: “How did you do on the exam? Were the questions difficult this time?”

The tent was quiet for a moment, then the man’s thin lips brushed her earlobe. His deep voice carried a touch of confident amusement: “When my Yuniang has finished her confinement, shall we go watch me in my crimson robe and flowered coronet, riding through the streets on horseback, hm?”

The warm breath slipped into her ear, making half her face tingle and go numb. Shen Yujiao was at once flustered and shy, yet also delighted at the certainty in his words. Even her drowsiness lessened by a third.

She turned over in his arms. Morning light filtered hazily through the canopy. Her clear black eyes sparkled bright: “Truly?!”

Looking at his wife’s face lit with irrepressible joy, Pei Xia also couldn’t help but smile: “You don’t believe me?”

Seeing his calm confidence, Shen Yujiao’s eyes curved deeper with laughter: “I believe!”

Of course she believed. She must believe.

As long as Pei Xia passed the exam, then her parents and elder brother’s family could hope to return to the capital!

For people to live, they must have something to look forward to.

“Langjun, I know you definitely can.” Shen Yujiao lifted her face, her tone ringing with crisp delight.

Pei Xia’s brows twitched faintly—at this moment, she was radiantly adorable beyond words.

So adorable, he wanted to kiss her.

His head slowly lowered, the distance closing bit by bit.

Shen Yujiao’s smile froze. Just as his lips were about to fall, she turned her face away in a fluster: “No.”

Her ears flushed crimson, her elbow pressed against his chest. With eyes downcast, she spoke in earnest: “Langjun, get up quickly, go to the study, or rest in the side room. I’m still in confinement, my body unclean.”

Whether noble family or common household, women in confinement generally slept apart from their husbands.

For during that month, blood would still flow, much like the monthly cycle, foul and unclean.

By now, husband and wife had already been living apart for half a month.

Shen Yujiao didn’t feel much inconvenience. The weather was warmer, her hands and feet no longer icy as in winter.

But for Pei Xia, it was the first time he realized that sleeping alone was so hard to endure. Missing that warmth in his arms felt like missing a piece from his heart.

His thick black lashes lowered. He removed the hand she had braced against his chest: “A trifling matter, nothing to worry about.”

“How can it be trifling?” Shen Yujiao exclaimed. “If Qiao Momo knew, she would surely scold us for not following the rules.”

“Then tell her it was my insistence to stay, that you couldn’t drive me away.”

“…?”

Shen Yujiao was dumbfounded. Was this truly the upright, proper Pei Shouzhen? To say such shameless words?

But when he pulled her into his arms again and bent his head down, she panicked: “You… you may stay, but don’t…”

“Don’t what?” Pei Xia asked.

Shen Yujiao bit her lip, her voice betraying some guilt: “Don’t kiss me.”

That kiss last time still left her flustered when she thought of it. And now, the two of them had shed their robes, lying together in bed.

She truly wasn’t so sure of Pei Xia’s self-control.

Earlier, she had distracted him and the moment passed. But now hearing her words, his long phoenix eyes narrowed, his tone deepened: “Why not?”

How could he even ask that.

Her heart skipped, pale fingers twisted in the quilt, face burying deeper. Only after a long pause did she manage to squeeze out: “I haven’t washed yet this morning.”

Afraid he might press her further, she tugged at his sleeve like surrender: “Langjun, I’m so sleepy.”

Hearing the genuine weariness in her voice, Pei Xia was silent for a few breaths. Then he drew her small, soft body close, faint with the scent of milk, and rested his chin on her hair: “Sleep.”

The beds in the examination hall were firm and cold, and for the past nine days he had not slept a single good night.

Now, with the burden of the imperial exam lifted, holding his wife warm and soft as fragrant jade in his arms, listening to her gentle, even breaths, his heart too settled into an unprecedented peace and calm.

Morning light faint, the brocade canopy heavy with fragrance.

The young couple lay nestled together, lost in long sweet dreams.

—

The scenery of the third month—spring as rich as wine, fit to intoxicate, not to awaken.

At the annual spring banquet of Duke Ying’s estate, the Third Prince, hearing that Eldest Princess Jinhua was also present, made a point to go pay respects.

“In such fine spring light, why does Aunt sit here drinking alone?”

Looking at the finely dressed woman sitting alone in the lakeside pavilion, a flash of disdain flickered in the Third Prince’s eyes, his mouth showing no courtesy: “Could it be that the four court gentlemen of your residence were all worn out last night, still abed and not yet risen?”

If it had been some other woman, she would certainly have flushed in shame at his mocking words. But Eldest Princess Jinhua only gave him a sidelong glance, then lifted her lips in a cold, beautiful smile: “Why else, but thanks to my good nephew, if you hadn’t snatched him from me, how would I be here drinking alone?”

“Aunt, such words truly wrong your nephew.”

Still smiling, the Third Prince drew up his robe and sat: “If it were any ordinary man, so long as Aunt desired, I’d have him scrubbed clean, and sent over to your residence, man and bedding both. But this Xie Wuling is different—”

“He is not one of those useless men who rely only on their looks to climb by their bodies. I had men inquire after his record in the Ningzhou army. Even Marquis Zhennan had an eye on him as a promising seedling. Aunt, fine male beauty is well and good, but for the sake of your personal indulgence, would you really delay a rising star of Great Liang?”

At the words rising star of the army, the Eldest Princess’s gaze flickered sharply, and her long fingers on the wine cup unconsciously tightened.

After a moment, she said: “Since he is a rising star, would he not shine better in Huo Xiao’s hands than in yours? And you speak of my selfishness—are you not also calculating for yourself?”

“And if I am?” The Third Prince shrugged, smiling as if unconcerned. “In the end, he still followed me.”

“So you came especially to flaunt it?” the Eldest Princess sneered.

“Ah, Aunt, don’t put it so harshly. It’s not flaunting,” said the Third Prince, his handsome face full of smiles, though none reached his eyes. “It is a reminder.”

The Eldest Princess frowned.

The Third Prince looked at her: “A man, nothing more. Aunt is a clever woman—already at odds with one niece, would you set yourself against two nephews as well?”

The Eldest Princess’s face darkened, her posture straightened: “Sima Ze, what do you mean by that?”

“I said, a reminder.”

The Third Prince clasped his hands behind his back, his expression calm: “If you don’t want it known, then don’t do it. Aunt using Shouan as a chess piece—are you not afraid that Consort Xian will find out and call you to account?”

The Eldest Princess froze for a moment, then gave a mocking laugh: “Afraid of her? Even if she knows, what can she do to me?”

For in her hands, she held a secret of Consort Yang’s—

A secret that, once revealed, could cause the Emperor Zhaoning to utterly spurn mother and son both.

With that secret, so long as Emperor Zhaoning still lived, Consort Xian would not dare touch her.

Seeing her so confident, the Third Prince too felt some curiosity.

Just as he was about to probe further, the Eldest Princess drawled lazily: “Spare me. You play your games; I can’t be bothered. If you win, do you really think I won’t offer my flattery, to add blossoms to your brocade?”

The Third Prince’s black eyes narrowed slightly. He smiled and agreed aloud, though in his heart he thought: If I ascend the throne, it will hardly be this wanton, poisonous woman’s turn to flatter me. Adding blossoms to brocade—she, unworthy.

After a few more polite words, the Third Prince took his leave.

Thinking of that hateful face, the Eldest Princess angrily flung the white jade wine cup in her hand hard against the floor.

That Xie Wuling defecting to the Third Prince’s banner already irritated her enough.

And now that loathsome fellow dared parade before her, flaunting his power—infuriating.

But that boy surnamed Xie—rather than stay in her house of silks and pleasures, he chose instead to return to Ningzhou to kill pirates, to follow Sima Ze into the Shenwu Army of the Southern Command.

A rising star.

Ha. How many “rising stars” could the world possibly hold?

His eyes might resemble, his unruly, bloodthirsty nature might resemble—but that one in the north had not yet fallen. How could it already be this little b*stard born of a wh*re’s turn?

He was not worthy.