Song of the Bright Moon Chapter 78

The autumn sun was bright, the breeze gentle, the sky clear.

Though her maternal grandfather’s household could not really be considered her “family home,” Shen Yujiao stayed there for two days before bringing Di Ge’er back to Yongning Ward.

She hadn’t expected that as soon as her carriage reached the gate, she would find several people gathered there, apparently arguing, unable to come to an agreement.

Shen Yujiao’s heart stirred with unease. She adjusted her veiled hat and, supported by Xiaying, stepped down from the carriage.

Dongxu followed behind, holding Di Ge’er in her arms, also puzzled. “What are they quarreling about? And… are those women?”

Shen Yujiao pressed her lips together. “Let’s go have a look.”

At the gate, Steward Zuo stood firm. “No, no, this won’t do. My master and mistress are both away, I can’t make this decision. You’d best take these two women back before someone sees—if word spreads, it’ll tarnish my lord’s reputation!”

The servant in dark livery refused to move, smiling placatingly. “My master gave clear instructions. These two ladies were purchased specially as gifts for your master. Look, I’ve even brought their deeds of sale. Please, just be accommodating—let them wait inside first. When your master returns later, he can arrange things as he sees fit.”

“That won’t do. I can’t decide that.”

“Just be accommodating, please.”

As they went back and forth, Steward Zuo suddenly spotted his mistress returning and looked as though he’d just seen a lifeline. “Ah, madam, you’re back just in time—please make the decision!”

Lifting her skirts, Shen Yujiao ascended the steps with calm poise, her gaze sweeping over the three unfamiliar faces at the entrance—

The man in dark clothes had an ordinary face, honest and unremarkable.

The two young women beside him looked fifteen or sixteen.

One wore a dark green dress, with willow brows, peach blossom eyes, and a delicate, pitiful beauty that stirred sympathy at a glance.

The other, dressed in apricot silk, had drowsy, alluring eyes, soft charm written in every movement—every smile, every glance naturally seductive.

The moment Shen Yujiao saw the two girls, she guessed their origin.

Women from Pingkang Ward.

Because the way a respectable girl and a courtesan looked at people—was completely different.

“Madam Pei, you’re back.”

The man in dark clothes bowed and introduced himself. “This humble servant is from the household of Xie Wuling, Changshi of the Shenwu Guard. My master heard that your lord intends to take a concubine, so he personally went to Pingkang Ward to select two beauties, and ordered me to deliver them to your residence.”

He respectfully offered two folded documents. “These are their deeds of sale, madam, for your inspection.”

The two young beauties, realizing who she was, immediately curtsied obediently.

“Your servant Yan’er / Xiangxiang greets madam. May madam enjoy ten thousand blessings.”

Shen Yujiao: “…”

Looking at the deeds and the two women before her, her temple throbbed.

Had that scoundrel Xie Wuling planted spies in her home? How did he even know about this?

Still, she’d been away for two days—she didn’t know how things had gone between Qingqing and Pei Xia…

Qingqing was so gentle and obedient, so lovable that even she felt fondness for the girl. Surely Pei Xia… would like her too?

“Madam.” Xiaying tugged at her sleeve quietly, blinking meaningfully to remind her that the others were still waiting for her response.

Shen Yujiao came back to her senses and studied the two beauties again.

She had to admit, both had their own distinct charms.

Yan’er was delicate and pitiful; Xiangxiang, sensuous and teasing.

Especially Xiangxiang—her figure was sinuous and full. Even in proper attire, Shen Yujiao’s gaze couldn’t help but drift to her chest several times.

Full, round, soft-looking… they seemed quite comfortable to hold.

Ah, to be a man.

The thought flashed unbidden through her mind. If she were a man, she too would want to keep such lovely girls at home—to play music, recite poetry, and warm the sleeves beside her. What bliss that would be.

Still—“Your master’s kind intention, our household appreciates.”

Shen Yujiao lowered her eyes and said, “The two beauties are both fine, but I’ve already chosen someone for my husband. There’s no need to trouble your master.”

The attendant, Ah Ming, was stunned for a moment before hastily replying, “My master said that he and Lord Pei are the closest of friends. He’s only sending two beauties—please don’t be overly polite with him. He also said…”

Ah Ming cleared his throat, imitating Xie Wuling’s tone as he continued, “A man understands men best. These two beauties will definitely serve Pei Shouzhen so comfortably that Madam won’t have to worry anymore.”

Shen Yujiao: “…”

That did sound exactly like something that scoundrel would say.

But… why did it sound so strange?

“Serve him comfortably”? Had he tried them himself? Or… was he into that kind of thing? No—those kinds of things?

Hidden under her sleeves, her fingers quietly tightened. She took a deep breath, her tone turning colder. “Langjun has no blessings to accept such beauties. Young man, please take them back.”

After a pause, she added, “As for your master—Changshi—at his age, he really ought to start a proper household and find someone who’ll care for him. Instead of worrying about others’ inner chambers, he should be worrying about his own lifelong affairs.”

Ah Ming looked embarrassed. “But our master instructed us that we must deliver them…”

Shen Yujiao said, “Then tell him this: Madam Pei declines his kind gesture. He can keep them for his own use.”

Leaving those words behind, she no longer lingered. She stepped toward the inner courtyard. “Steward Zuo, close the gate and see the guests out.”

With her final word, Steward Zuo let out a sigh of relief and quickly raised his hand. “Gentlemen, please.”

Ah Ming: “…”

As the red-lacquered gate shut, the two beauties, Yan’er and Xiangxiang, both furrowed their willow brows and complained softly, “What should we do now?”

“Ah, such bad luck—how did we end up running into the mistress herself?”

“Yes, if only the master had seen us first, this would’ve gone smoothly.”

Ah Ming’s head throbbed. To deliver concubines and end up like this—he’d definitely be scolded when he returned.

Glancing again at the tightly shut gate, he tucked the ownership deeds back into his chest and sighed. “Let’s go back for now.”

Behind the red gate—

Xiaying grumbled, “What kind of intentions does that Xie fellow have, sending such women to our residence! One look at those two, and you can tell from their darting eyes they’re a pair of restless vixens.”

“Don’t say that.”

Shen Yujiao removed her veiled hat, her slender white fingers massaging her temples. “They’re just pitiful women without choices. If one could choose, who would willingly become a plaything to be bought and sold, serving others with their looks?”

Xiaying was caught off guard by that, then lowered her gaze in shame. “This maid was narrow-minded.”

Shen Yujiao didn’t pursue the point. Since ancient times, women of the dust had always been despised and scorned; Xiaying was simply following convention.

“But how did that Xie fellow even know you were choosing concubines for the lord?” Xiaying asked curiously.

Shen Yujiao’s fingers paused at her brow—she was wondering the same thing.

Could Xie Wuling have really planted spies in their household?

“Let’s think about it later. For now, let’s go back.”

What she cared more about now was whether Qingqing had succeeded or not.

When she returned to the back courtyard and saw little maid Qingqing standing beside Qiao Momo with her head drooping, Shen Yujiao knew at a glance that it hadn’t worked.

“The moment Langjun saw me, he told me to get out,” Qingqing said miserably, eyes shimmering with tears. “I don’t know if he was in a bad mood that day or what, but his face was all stiff and scary…”

Hearing this, Shen Yujiao’s heart skipped twice—something didn’t feel right.

“Then… you didn’t try again?”

“Madam, you didn’t see his eyes,” Qingqing said, shivering at the memory. “Like shards of ice in midwinter—I nearly lost my legs right there, how would I dare to linger?”

At that, Shen Yujiao felt her own chest tighten.

Could it be that what Xie Wuling said was true—men really do understand men best, and she should have chosen those types of beauties instead?

Her gaze swept over Qingqing from head to toe. Indeed, there was no comparison: against Yan’er and Xiangxiang, Qingqing was plain as water—completely unimpressive.

Would it still be possible to call those two beauties back?

No, no. Pei Xia and Xie Wuling detested each other. If her husband found out those women were sent by Xie Wuling, he’d be furious.

“Forget it.”

Shen Yujiao sighed—who would’ve thought that taking a concubine for her husband could be such a troublesome affair?

She turned to Qiao Momo. “Since Qingqing doesn’t please the lord’s eye, find her another task in the household.”

Qiao Momo answered obediently, though she couldn’t help but feel distressed—

Fifty taels of silver spent, only to end up with a menial maid. What a loss!

That evening, the sky was painted in shades of red.

Shen Yujiao had just coaxed Di Ge’er to sleep when a maid came to report, “Madam, the lord has returned from the yamen.”

He’s back.

For some reason, Shen Yujiao suddenly felt a wave of nervousness. She replied softly, “Tell the kitchen to prepare supper.”

After a pause, she added, “Make two more of the dishes he likes.”

The maid acknowledged and withdrew.

Shen Yujiao sat at the edge of the bed, gazing at Di Ge’er’s fair, sleeping face, her mind wandering.

When he came in later… should she mention Qingqing at all?

Who knew what he was thinking? If he truly found her choice displeasing, she could find someone else for him. But if he was angry with her…

Why would he be angry?

As his proper wife, she had generously taken it upon herself to find him a concubine—he should be pleased, shouldn’t he? Could it be that he actually wanted a jealous wife who forbade her husband from taking other women?

Her thoughts tangled in circles. Shen Yujiao couldn’t make sense of it, so she decided to stop trying.

In any case, when she saw Pei Xia later, she could simply ask him.

Yet that night, even after the dishes had gone cold, Pei Xia never came to the back courtyard.

Shen Yujiao sent someone to inquire, and the maid returned cautiously with the answer: “The lord said he’s busy with official matters and won’t be coming to the back courtyard. Madam should dine on her own.”

Shen Yujiao was silent for a couple of breaths before saying quietly, “I understand.”

He was angry.

Qiao Momo had already guessed as much. After dinner, she dismissed the servants and began to advise earnestly, “This old servant told you that day—it’s not the right time to bring in a concubine, but Madam insisted. Now look what’s happened: you showed magnanimity, yet the lord didn’t appreciate it, and instead the affection between you two has been hurt.”

Shen Yujiao sat quietly, saying nothing.

“Madam, there’s no grudge between husband and wife that can’t be mended overnight.” Qiao Momo thought for a moment, then offered a suggestion. “Listen to this old servant—bring him some refreshments to the study, say a few gentle words. The lord isn’t a hard-hearted man; he should be easy enough to coax.”

Still, Shen Yujiao didn’t respond.

Qiao Momo grew anxious, her wrinkled face furrowing. “Madam, please say something. What are you thinking?”

Shen Yujiao’s mind was in turmoil.

She couldn’t tell what Pei Xia was angry about.

She couldn’t share a bed with him, and she couldn’t bear to see him lonely—so she sent a maid to serve him. How was that wrong?

Was he angry because she couldn’t sleep with him herself?

But it wasn’t that she was unwilling—her heart was in chaos; she simply wasn’t ready yet.

She had to admit, Xie Wuling’s repeated appearances before her had indeed unsettled the calm she had so painstakingly regained.

She wanted to live well with Pei Xia. She truly did. But Xie Wuling…

That Xie Wuling who had saved her time and again from peril;

That Xie Wuling who always smiled so brightly at her;

That Xie Wuling who seemed willing to carve out his heart for her;

That Xie Wuling who had pleaded again and again, don’t forget me—

How could she simply let go of such a man? How could she say she’d forget him, and truly do so?

Pei Shouzhen and Xie Wuling—one was her rightful husband, betrothed to her since childhood; the other, a benefactor with whom she had nearly bowed to Heaven and Earth. It was impossible to weigh which bond was heavier. Letting go of either felt like betrayal.

If only one heart could be given to two men—but it couldn’t.

Shen Yujiao sat quietly by the bed for a long time before saying hoarsely, “Momo, please… don’t worry about me. Let me be alone for a while.”

Only by sorting out her own heart could she move forward.

Seeing her mistress’s dispirited state, Qiao Momo couldn’t bear to press further. She fetched a soft robe of pale green satin and draped it over Shen Yujiao’s shoulders, sighing heavily. “If it’s because of that Xie fellow that your heart is unsettled, Madam, then you really must think this through carefully.”

Shen Yujiao’s brows twitched slightly, and she looked up at Qiao Momo.

The old woman pressed her thin lips together, her cloudy eyes sharp with understanding. “Don’t forget, Madam—you are a daughter of the Shen family, a wife of the Pei family, and the future mother of the Pei heir. In this world, how can one have it all? Greed for both will only lead to loss.”

Having said her piece, she turned and left.

Shen Yujiao sat on the edge of the bed under the dim lamplight. Outside the half-open window, the wall was covered with blooming crape myrtle, radiant beneath the moonlight.

The Mid-Autumn Festival was near; the moon in the sky was nearly full.

Yet after fullness always came waning.

Even the eternal moon waxed and waned—how much more so the fleeting lives of ordinary people?

Just as Momo had said—greed for too much brings loss. In this life, who could ever have everything perfect?

…

Shen Yujiao spent three days in quiet reflection in the back courtyard, while Pei Xia stayed in the study for the same three days.

Though husband and wife lived under the same roof, they did not see each other.

The servants in the household noticed something was off and whispered among themselves—could it be that they were quarreling over the matter of taking a concubine?

But wasn’t that maid Qingqing brought back at Madam’s own instruction? What was there to quarrel about?

Still, no one dared meddle in their masters’ affairs. Everyone became more cautious in their duties, fearful of making a mistake and drawing attention.

Bai Ping and the other close maids also tried to persuade their mistress not to hold a grudge. “When couples quarrel, it’s at the head of the bed, and they make up at the foot of it. Keeping cold silence like this won’t do, especially with the Mid-Autumn Festival so near.”

“Mid-Autumn is about reunion, harmony, and happiness. Madam, do you really plan to spend the festival night apart from the lord?”

Bai Ping added softly, “If not for anything else, think of young master Di Ge’er—it’ll be his very first Mid-Autumn in this world, with both his parents.”

Mid-Autumn… reunion…

Shen Yujiao thought of her parents and brothers, far away but already on their way home.

At this point, what was left to untangle?

From the very day she returned from Jinling with Pei Xia, she should have known—her fate with Xie Wuling was finished. There could be no more between them.

So what if her heart was moved? So what if she still liked him? The world would not permit it—nor would her family, nor her child.

She was a daughter of the Shen family, a wife of the Pei family. Either identity left no room for willfulness.

Pei Xia was her rightful home.

She could only blame herself for her weakness—failing to cut cleanly when she should have, letting herself be troubled by lingering emotions.

It was time for everything to return to its proper course.

Let her body, her heart, get used to it step by step.

Thinking this, Shen Yujiao turned her head slightly to glance at the sky outside the window and softly called out, “Bai Ping, tell the kitchen to stew a tonic soup for nourishing the kidneys and replenishing qi. Once it’s ready, bring it over.”

Bai Ping was momentarily startled, but when she realized what her mistress meant, her brows lifted in delight. “Yes, this servant will go right away.”

After a brief pause, she thought of something and added, “The kitchen has just steamed some osmanthus cakes today—shall I bring along a plate as well?”

“Alright.”

Shen Yujiao nodded. Supporting herself against the table, she stood up and instructed Xiaying, “Fetch the jade-colored dress with the hibiscus branch pattern we had newly tailored last time, and help me dress.”

Xiaying and Bai Ping exchanged a glance, both immediately understanding her intention, smiling knowingly as they each went about their tasks.

By the time dusk fell, Shen Yujiao was gazing at the face in the bronze mirror, her exquisitely made-up features flickering slightly with uncertainty.

In the mirror, the young woman had lustrous black hair and vivid beauty, delicate brows and white teeth, lips red as pomegranate petals—radiant and refined.

From the style of her hair to the curve of her brows, from the shade of her lip color to the cut of her dress—every detail had been chosen according to Pei Xia’s preferences.

She was the picture of a graceful, dignified, gentle and demure lady.

Shen Yujiao stared at her reflection for a long time, silently reminding herself again and again that her future was meant to be lived with Pei Shouzhen. If things continued to drag on like this, the rift between them would only deepen.

Tonight, she must coax him back, mend what was broken.

—

The sun had set completely. Twilight gathered, and the desolate horizon still held a fading wisp of red.

Pei Xia stood quietly before the window in his plain blue robe, his expression somber as he stared at the faint shadows of bamboo beyond the rear wall.

Three days now.

Counting the two she had spent at her maternal home, it had been five full days since they last saw each other.

During those five days, she had sent someone to bring Di Ge’er over to the front courtyard for him to see, yet she refused to offer even a single word of explanation.

Even knowing she had turned away the two lean horses sent by Xie Wuling, that stifled irritation in his chest would not subside—

Especially when he thought of that scoundrel Xie Wuling, who surely must be gloating now that he knew the couple were at odds. The more he thought of it, the more that sullen feeling burned into anger, searing his chest.

But what use was the pain—his wife’s heart was with another man; she didn’t care at all.

“Knock, knock—”

Two clear knocks came from the study door, followed by Jinglin’s voice: “My lord, dinner has been brought.”

“I’ve no appetite. Leave it in the side room for now.”

“…”

There was a brief silence outside, but instead of Jinglin’s retreating footsteps, there came the faint creak of the door being pushed open.

Pei Xia frowned and turned. “Who allowed you to—”

But when his irritated gaze met the graceful figure stepping through the doorway, the rest of his words froze in his throat.

Standing before the half-open door was his wife, whom he hadn’t seen for days—her dark hair loosely pinned, bright eyes and cherry lips, a slender figure in a pale jade gown, holding a three-tiered carved rosewood food box in her hands. She lifted her gaze to him and asked quietly, “Am I not allowed to come in either?”

Pei Xia’s eyes flickered slightly, the fingers hidden under his sleeve tightening unconsciously.

“Why are you here?”

When he spoke, his voice held a faint roughness.

Hearing that, Shen Yujiao blinked slowly, then replied, “Langjun hasn’t answered—may I come in or not?”

The study, unlit as yet, was filled only with the dim afterglow of sunset, tinged with dark red warmth.

Through that shifting half-light, they faced each other in silence—a quiet standoff.

At last, Pei Xia spoke. “You are the mistress of this household. Naturally, there’s no place here you are not permitted to enter.”

“With those words, Langjun, I can enter with an easy heart.”

Shen Yujiao’s voice was soft as she stepped inside carrying the food box. Outside, Jinglin, perceptive as ever, promptly closed the door behind her.

“It’s already dark—why hasn’t Langjun ordered the lamps lit? Sitting in the dark strains the eyes.”

“I wasn’t reading just now.”

“Then what was Langjun doing?”

“…Watching the sunset.”

Pei Xia walked to the lamp covered by a white gauze shade, picked up a tinder stick, and began lighting the lamps one by one.

The quiet study gradually filled with warm light. Shen Yujiao glanced at the pile of official documents on his desk, set the food box down on a nearby table, and began to take out the dishes one by one. “I thought Langjun must have been busy with official matters these past days, which is why you hadn’t the time to dine with me in the rear courtyard. I didn’t expect you were here alone, admiring the sunset.”

Her tone was light, half-playful, as she tried to smooth over the cold tension between them these past few days.

But no sooner had she spoken than the man by the lamp stilled, lowering the tinder stick.

Across the desk, the flickering orange candlelight reflected in his deep black eyes as Pei Xia looked straight at her, voice low and heavy: “Do you truly not know why I haven’t returned to the rear courtyard, Yuniang?”