Song of the Bright Moon Chapter 80

Before coming to the study, Shen Yujiao had already decided—tonight, she would bring Pei Xia back to the rear courtyard.

She knew well enough what would happen once they returned there.

She just hadn’t expected him to start before the sky was even dark, before they’d even had supper.

“Langjun, this is the study…” Her voice was still husky from crying, her gaze downcast, not daring to meet his eyes. “The astragalus chicken soup and osmanthus cakes… if we don’t eat soon, they’ll go cold.”

He did want something—but not soup, nor cakes.

“Don’t be afraid.”

His long, elegant fingers brushed through her dark hair. Pei Xia leaned down again, his lips grazing her ear. “If you’re nervous this time, just close your eyes.”

Shen Yujiao could hear the persistence in his tone—she froze slightly.

And then, his breath, hot and rough, swept into her ear, his low voice rumbling like a spell:

“Does Yuniang not trust her Brother?”

Shen Yujiao was brushed by his warm breath until half her body went numb, her lashes lowering as she whispered, “I believe you.”

“Good. Then close your eyes.”

“…”

Thinking that reconciliation would inevitably lead to this step, Shen Yujiao hesitated for a moment, but still closed her eyes.

Outside the window, the last streaks of sunset were swallowed by the night. Inside the silent study, candlelight flickered brightly. In the gilded crane-shaped incense burner, fine sandalwood burned, its smoke curling in thin wisps, fragrance faint yet enveloping.

Almost the instant her eyes closed, Shen Yujiao was lifted into his arms.

She clutched at the man’s robe and instinctively opened her eyes. “You—”

“Knew you’d open them.”

“You stood up so suddenly, I was afraid—”

“You think I’d let you fall?”

Pei Xia glanced at her, his arms steady beneath her as he kept walking. “That chair’s too small. The main seat is broader.”

Shen Yujiao froze for a beat. When she realized what he meant, her cheeks burned instantly. He—he really intended to do it here, in the study!

How could he become so reckless?

This was the study — a place for reading the classics, for handling official business. How could such absurd things be done here?

Where were his manners, his discipline? Was it that he had held himself back too long—or that she had angered him into losing his senses?

Before she could make sense of it, Pei Xia had already carried her over and set her firmly atop the desk.

When she saw him sweep aside scrolls and papers, Shen Yujiao propped her hands against the edge of the table, her heart pounding wildly. “Or—or perhaps we should go back to the rear courtyard instead?”

Pei Xia looked at her deeply, saying nothing. He only raised a hand and loosened the dark gray silk sash at his waist.

“Yuniang,” he said softly, “close your eyes.”

It was the second time he had said those words.

Shen Yujiao’s eyes reddened, her gaze glistening as she looked at him, trying to make him change his mind. But today, Pei Shouzhen’s heart was unusually firm.

He spoke to her in a gentle voice, coaxing, “Yuniang, be good,” yet his hands did not stop. The dark silk ribbon wrapped lightly—but firmly—around her eyes.

Two full loops, and everything went dark. Only the faintest blur of light seeped through.

With her sight taken away, all her other senses sharpened. She sat uncertainly atop the rosewood desk, afraid of falling, not daring to move recklessly. She lifted a hand, searching for something to hold onto. “Langjun…”

“Don’t be afraid,” Pei Xia murmured, catching her slender, pale wrist. “Your Ah-xiong is here.”

Her hand held in his, Shen Yujiao’s heart steadied—just a little.

But then, Pei Xia made no further move.

For a moment, the study fell utterly silent.

“Langjun, what are you doing? Why won’t you speak?”

“…”

The man still said nothing.

Standing before the desk, his sharply defined features were bathed in the orange candlelight. His face showed no expression, but in his eyes—deep, shadowed, and never before revealed to anyone—there flickered a hungry, unrestrained gaze that roamed greedily over his wife’s delicate brows, luminous face, and graceful form.

His throat grew drier still when his eyes landed on her light lotus-colored undergarment, loosened by a single undone tie and now slipping down, pooling loosely in front of her, no longer serving to cover anything.

“Brother Shouzhen, don’t… don’t stay silent like that…” Shen Yujiao’s voice trembled, a trace of panic rising. The feeling was too strange. She lifted her hand, trying to pull away the silk blindfold.

The next instant, her wrist was caught—and her lips were sealed once more.

“Hmm!” She was startled, but her open lips and tongue gave the man an opportunity, and her breath was quickly robbed. 

The two of them were facing each other, and she was sitting on the table, which made it easier for him to act. He held on her wrists with one hand, and the other hand was not free either, holding her waist from behind. 

The five long fingers were very strong, as if to hold her firmly in their palms. 

She wanted to yell, “Be gentler,” but his kiss was too forceful, not giving her even a chance to speak. 

In the solemn study room, which was filled with thousands of books, there was a moment of profound silence. The only sounds were the rustling of fabrics, the rapid breathing of each other, and the exchange of saliva between lips and tongues. These subtle sounds made the temperature of the air even hotter, and an er*tic and ambiguous atmosphere spread and filled the entire enclosed space. 

She had barely recovered from the long kiss before, and now here came another one, and with her eyes covered, she seemed even more sensitive than usual. Shen Yujiao sat on the table, feeling her limbs go limp and her head spinning. When the man’s slightly cool fingers brushed the skin on the back of her neck, she flinched and let out a small whimper. 

The man in front of him seemed to laugh hoarsely. 

Before Shen Yujiao could figure out whether he was really laughing or it was just her illusion, she felt a chill all of a sudden. 

The newly cut jade-colored dress was like the bright lotus petals in summer, peeling off piece by piece. The exposed lotus seeds were white and tender. When you hold them in your mouth and savor them carefully, the faint sweet fragrance spreads on your tongue. 

Her beautiful body was soaked with sweat, and her slender waist, which was firmly grasped by a palm, bent backwards like a fully drawn bow in unbearable pain. 

“Brother Shouzhen.” She called out with a hint of tears in her voice. 

I want to push him away, but I can’t. 

Her hands were on his shoulders, her dress was disheveled, but his was neat and tidy. Even though she couldn’t see it, Shen Yujiao still felt ashamed. She couldn’t help but wet her eyes and sobbed softly. 

The man paused, rubbed his tall nose against her delicate face, which was covered in sweat, and said in a hoarse voice, “Why are you such a crybaby today?” 

“Langjun, don’t do that here…” She clutched his collar tightly. Years of education as a lady made her unable to accept any place other than the bed curtains, not to mention that this was the study, the place that should not be desecrated. 

The man in front of her was silent for a moment, then kissed the corner of her lips: “We are husband and wife, there is nothing to be ashamed of.” 

He coaxed her slowly, rubbing his thin lips against her earlobe, his hot breath and lips and tongue making her consciousness confused, and his strong and thin mouth moved closer.

Shen Yujiao’s heart was beating wildly. Before she could utter a single word, he accurately blocked her lips: “Yuniang.” 

He called out without hesitation. 

Shen Yujiao closed her eyes, and the rest of the sound was blocked by the man’s thin lips. The smoky black satin covering her eyes was slightly wet, and her slender jade fingers were firmly grasping the man’s shoulders. 

More than a year has passed from last May to now August. Shen Yujiao didn’t know whether it was because her body had become so unfamiliar after more than a year, or because the man in front of her, whose expression she couldn’t see clearly, who was holding her leg, grabbing her wrist, and kissing her wantonly, had become different from before and therefore felt so unfamiliar. 

It’s like having a new husband. 

In the past, the relationship wasn’t like this. Although they took quite a while, they were unhurried and gentle. Unlike now, where it seems like an endless stream of chatter… 

Although the doors and windows of the study were not locked, no one dared to disturb them. 

Jinglin and Bai Ping, who were standing at the door, felt a little uneasy at first when they couldn’t hear the voices from inside. Could it be that the Madam took the initiative to ask about his well-being, but the husband was so hard-hearted as to ignore her? 

When Bai Ping bravely went to the door, she heard a faint sound that sounded like crying and was shocked. Her husband actually made his wife cry? How could this be tolerated! However, the crying sound changed its tone as she listened, and Bai Ping blushed and could not believe it. 

The two of them were actually in there…Oh no! 

She didn’t know what to say. At one moment she felt that the saying “husband and wife quarrel at the head of the bed but make up at the foot of the bed” was indeed very true. At the next moment, she couldn’t help but wonder how this couple, who were usually the most well-behaved and polite, could be so unrestrained today. 

“Sister Bai Ping, what did you hear?” 

Jinglin was curious and tried to listen in, but Bai Ping slapped him away: “Go away, listening to the masters in the corner? Don’t listen!” 

Jinglin covered his face, feeling very aggrieved: “Didn’t you listen to it too?” 

“I am me, you are you, can you compare with me?” Bai Ping and Jinglin were both born into the Pei family, but Bai Ping was a year older, so she had always treated Jinglin like a younger brother. Now, she put her hands on her hips, glared at him, and displayed the authority of an older sister: “It’s getting dark now, the lord has his wife to accompany him. You won’t have anything to do for a while. Go to the kitchen to eat, and tell them to boil two pots of hot water, as the masters will need it later.” 

Although Jinglin was still unmarried, he was a grown man. When he heard the word “use water”, he immediately understood what it meant and stared in astonishment: “The the the mas mas master… he he he he…” 

Bai Ping slapped him again without hesitation: “Go!” 

Jinglin was patted cleanly, his face flushed: “Yes, yes.” 

He hurried out of the yard, but his heart was still filled with astonishment. Was the soup his wife had given him a tonic, or a love potion? It could actually make the usually chaste man unable to control himself in his study. 

It was truly like the sun rising from the west. 

It was quiet in the dead of night, and everything was still. Until midnight, the room was filled with the fragrance of orchids and musk, the flowers bloomed with dewdrops, and the orioles stopped crying. The smoky-black satin was taken off, and it was soaked, unclear whether it was tears or sweat. 

Although there was no obstruction in front of her eyes, Shen Yujiao still closed her eyes, her long eyelashes wet and frozen, and she fell exhausted in Pei Xia’s arms. 

It’s not fair. She thought vaguely, it’s so unfair. 

He saw her thoroughly, and his clothes were still neatly dressed except for being slightly wrinkled by her. 

“What are you mumbling about?” After the intense pleasure, Pei Xia’s cold eyes revealed a hint of satisfaction, and his voice became gentler: “Tired?” 

Shen Yujiao bit her lip, buried her face in his arms, and said sullenly after a while: “My dress…” 

“It’s dirty.” 

Pei Xia glanced at the pile on the ground, wrinkled, stained with sweat and thick white. “Send the tailor to the house tomorrow. If I soil one set, I’ll compensate you with ten sets, okay?” 

Shen Yujiao wanted to say that it couldn’t be that dirty if it fell on the ground, but then she thought about what he had done with the dress and immediately fell silent. 

Pei Xia finally untied the robe he had been wearing for half the night. 

The loose, dark blue robe wrapped her tightly from head to toe, and then he lifted her up from the unsightly desk. 

Shen Yujiao thought he was going to change places again, and her sleepy eyes suddenly opened. 

From the beginning to the end, until this moment, she finally saw Pei Xia’s appearance clearly. The candlelight was a warm yellow, and the man’s expression was gentle. Except for a hint of red at the corners of his eyes, he looked just like usual, rinsing his mouth with ice and snow, enjoying the bright moon and the fresh breeze. If her mouth wasn’t still sore, she would have suspected that the person who had just attacked her so forcefully was someone else. 

Pei Xia saw her misty eyes widen in panic and fear, and felt pity and amusement in her heart. “No need tonight, I’ll carry you to the bedroom to take a bath.” 

How could he be so calm? 

Shen Yujiao turned her face away and said in a muffled voice, “How can I face people in this state?” 

“If the maidservant beside you is so stupid that she doesn’t know how to get out of the way right now, it would be better to tie up her hair and sell her tomorrow.” 

“…” 

Shen Yujiao choked and couldn’t say anything back, but she was still suffocated and muttered softly: “It’s all your fault.” 

Pei Xia was satisfied. 

Looking at his wife’s temper, he found it adorable and agreed with her: “Yeah, blame me.” 

As he spoke, his gaze stopped at the delicate body wrapped in a green robe in his arms, and he chuckled. 

Feeling the slight tremor in his chest, Shen Yujiao became even more embarrassed and annoyed: “You’re still laughing?” 

“Just a funny thing suddenly popped into my mind.”

“…?”

“The way you look wearing my robe—it does resemble Lianzi a bit.”

Lianzi? Shen Yujiao frowned slightly, unable to understand what was so amusing about that.

Pei Xia didn’t explain further; he carried her out of the study.

The night stretched long. Overhead, the moon hung high—bright and full, nearly round.

—

The next morning, the bedchamber lay in utter quiet. The incense within the burner had long burned out; only a fine layer of ash, pale as frost, remained. Amid the lingering fragrance was a faint trace of languid warmth, as if some dream still lingered there.

Outside, the autumn sun was already bright, yet the canopy bed of sandalwood, carved with pine, crane, and plum blossoms, still had its curtains drawn. Behind the layered veils embroidered with bamboo, a slender figure lay curled on her side.

Her dark hair spilled loosely over her shoulders and back, and the turquoise quilt was pulled up to her waist, showing skin like snow faintly marked with the remnants of last night’s passion—soft red traces like lotus petals peeking between green leaves.

Now, that sleeping lotus was still deeply asleep.

Not until the sun leaned westward did she slowly lift her heavy eyelids. For a moment, the unfamiliar canopy and furnishings made her feel disoriented.

Then memory returned—this was Pei Xia’s bedchamber. The events of the night and dawn came flooding back.

When he had carried her from the study, he’d said: not again tonight.

She had focused on the last words and forgotten the rest.

After only two hours of rest, when dawn’s light just began to brighten the skies—he was supposed to wash and dress for court—yet he returned to her side once more.

She could hardly keep up. “You lied,” she had whispered.

He replied, “The night has passed. It’s a new day now.”

Then, kissing the corner of her eye in gentle comfort, he added, “Go back to sleep. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Half-dazed, Shen Yujiao had thought vaguely that perhaps she really ought to invite Wang Daopo from Qingyun Temple to come take a look—otherwise, how had the once-calm, abstinent man, who used to touch her no more than twice a month, become so greedy?

Still, though greedy, he never neglected his duties. Once time pressed, he reined himself in, helped her tidy a bit, dressed, and left.

Before leaving, he seemed to have said something more—but she had been too exhausted, both mind and body dulled, and soon drifted into sleep again.

Now awake…

What had he said? Shen Yujiao lay in bed thinking for a long while, but could not recall. She decided not to trouble herself over it.

She had wanted to call her maids in to help, but upon sitting up and glancing down, she froze.

Light marks, pink and pale, bloomed across her skin—mostly over her chest, and a few at her waist where his fingers had pressed.

Last night, in the study, her eyes had been covered, but she had felt how intense he was.

Several times she had nearly fallen, only for him to catch her again.

His voice had been so gentle, coaxing by her ear—Good Yuniang, my good Yuniang…

Was it simply that he’d been abstinent too long, that he couldn’t restrain himself?

She sat dazed a long while, hugging the quilt, then finally stood, dressed in the new gown laid out on the rack.

The air in the room still carried a faint, close warmth; Shen Yujiao frowned slightly and pushed open half a window.

Outside, the sky was clear and blue. In the courtyard corner, the osmanthus tree was in bloom—not dense, but richly fragrant.

She gazed at it, quietly counting in her heart. Five more days until the Mid-Autumn Festival.

Another Mid-Autumn already.

Last year, the one who had shared it with her had clinked cups with her, smiling: “From now on, we’re family.”

Now, she had a husband, a son; her parents and kin were on their way home. A family, whole and content.

And he—he had left his home behind, journeyed thousands of miles, come alone to Chang’an.

In this vast and glittering city—did he have a home of his own?

“Madam, you’re awake? Why didn’t you call for us?”

Xiaying and Dongxu came chatting into the courtyard, and seeing her standing by the window, they hurried up with bright smiles. “Just now, Jinxiuzhuang sent over several bolts of new silk. The young master ordered them, saying they’re for your new dresses.”

“The young master treats you so well! Each bolt is more beautiful than the last—you’ll have trouble choosing, madam.”

Shen Yujiao turned from the osmanthus tree and looked at her two maids’ cheerful faces.

Xiaying and Dongxu had served her since childhood—maids, but also confidantes. Both were of one mind that Pei Xia was good to her. What else could she want?

Now that daylight had come, that ordeal had passed; her heart, too, must settle back in its place.

—

That evening, after court, Pei Xia as usual came to the rear courtyard.

The silent estrangement of those five days seemed to have vanished, tacitly brushed aside.

In high spirits, Pei Xia played with Di Ge’er for a while, then carried the child over to Shen Yujiao, smiling as he pointed: “He looks more and more like you.”

“He’s my own flesh and blood—it’s only natural.”

“That’s true,” Pei Xia said, and after a pause, added, “If it had been a daughter, she would surely resemble you even more.”

Shen Yujiao blinked in surprise. Meeting his dark eyes, she immediately understood.

So—nothing in this household escaped his notice.

She dismissed the nurse and servants, then said quietly, “Momo told me I must rest well. Too many pregnancies would harm my health. That’s why I took a decoction to prevent conception.”

She couldn’t remember clearly how many times it had been last night and this morning—but she knew each time he had gone deep.

Before, she had been anxious to conceive; she’d never thought of avoiding pregnancy. But now, with a child already, she wished at least three years without another.

Hearing her explanation, the heaviness in Pei Xia’s chest dissolved at once.

So it was for her health—not for anyone else.

Realizing how absurdly jealous he’d become, seeing threats in every shadow, Pei Xia let out a soft laugh, then took Shen Yujiao’s hand.

“Momo is right,” he said. “You had a hard time giving birth to Di Ge’er. You truly should rest and recover for a few years. But the contraceptive decoction is still medicine—and medicine always carries some poison. Best not to drink it again.”

Shen Yujiao lifted her gaze at that.

She said nothing, but from the look in her eyes, Pei Xia clearly saw the unspoken question: Then do you mean you’ll keep your hands off me afterward?

Of course not.

Last night and this morning, tenderness and desire had entangled; once having tasted, he could not forget.

He could only regret that he hadn’t known its sweetness earlier—how much he had missed—but at least, from now on, there would be long years ahead.

“No need to worry,” he said softly. “There are other ways.”

“What ways?” Shen Yujiao asked curiously. The old Momo had also told her of a few methods—rubbing the belly, withdrawing outside, calculating the days—but none had seemed truly reliable to her.

Pei Xia stroked her slender, white wrist and gave her a sidelong glance. “I have plenty of methods. The question is—can you still try them today?”

When she realized she’d been teased, Shen Yujiao’s ears flushed crimson, and she hastily pulled her hand from his grasp. “No—I can’t try anymore.”

If they kept “trying,” pregnancy might be uncertain, but exhaustion was guaranteed.

Her back was still sore even now.

Pei Xia knew well he’d been too indulgent the previous night. But her sightless submission, the way she’d lain beneath him with her eyes covered—so delicate and enticing—had tempted him beyond reason.

Reason and desire had warred within him, yet in the end, he had yielded to that quiet voice inside, greedy for more.

Trying to ignore the heat in his gaze, Shen Yujiao lowered her eyes. “Let me rest for two days.”

“Last night,” he murmured, “I was reckless.”

Pei Xia’s eyes darkened; then he gathered her gently into his arms. “No hurry. Take your time to recover—we have many years ahead of us.”

Shen Yujiao didn’t know how to answer that, only gave a faint hum of acknowledgment.

But two days later, she realized that when it came to such matters, a man’s words could never be trusted—no matter how much of a gentleman he might seem.

A gentleman beneath the bed, perhaps—but a liar upon it.

Once her eyes were covered, he was as dominant as ever.

Only when she looked directly at him did he become tender, restrained, careful.

All in all, aside from the fatigue the next morning, the harmony between them did serve to deepen their bond as husband and wife.

That time, Pei Xia’s inspection of the river channels went well, earning him the emperor’s praise at court; at home, he had his desires fulfilled. It was a season of smooth fortune and unbroken joy for him.

The only trace of regret was this—when passing through Longwei Road, he found himself wishing that he’d run into that man, Xie Wuling.

Fortune turns like a wheel; Xie Wuling had laughed so freely behind his back that day—Pei Xia now wanted to see if he could still laugh the same way.

Apparently, one shouldn’t speak of others too soon—

For the very next day, Emperor Zhaoning summoned Pei Xia to Zichen Palace and granted him a special favor: permission to bring his family into the palace to attend the Mid-Autumn Banquet.

It was well known that only officials of the third rank and above could bring their family members into the palace for the Mid-Autumn feast to celebrate with the Son of Heaven.

Pei Xia bowed to thank the emperor for his grace. As soon as he stepped out of the hall, the chief eunuch beside the imperial dais offered a smiling compliment: “Scholar Pei, you truly hold a special place in His Majesty’s heart. At this year’s banquet, apart from His Highness the Third Prince’s aide, Xie Changshi—who is only of the sixth rank—everyone else attending with family are high officials of the third rank. But that Xie Changshi’s invitation came through the Third Prince’s petition. Yours, however, was granted by the emperor himself.”

Pei Xia: “…”

Upon hearing that Xie Wuling would also attend the Mid-Autumn Banquet, Pei Xia’s first thought was to leave Shen Yujiao at home. But after a moment’s reflection—palace banquets lasted deep into the night—

On a day meant for reunion, how could he go alone into the palace and leave his wife and child behind to spend the festival by themselves?

Moreover, he was a civil official; his seat would be far from that of Xie Wuling, a military man. They might see each other from afar, but would not sit side by side.

He couldn’t always be avoiding and hiding whenever Xie Wuling was present—

Why should he?

He and Yuniang were the rightful husband and wife. Xie Wuling was nothing but a shameless man who had entangled himself again and again without propriety.

After thinking it through, Pei Xia told Shen Yujiao about the Mid-Autumn Banquet.

When she heard they were to attend, she smiled and replied, “Very well, I’ll accompany you. The child is still young and noisy—tomorrow I’ll send him to stay with Aunt for a night.”

Seeing her agree so readily, Pei Xia hesitated a moment before saying, “Xie Wuling will also be there.”

The smile faded slightly from Shen Yujiao’s eyes.

After a long pause, she lowered her lashes. “What does Langjun intend to do?”

Pei Xia watched her quiet expression for a while. The words “What do you think?” rose to his lips but didn’t leave them.

The days had been too short; whether she spoke truth or falsehood, whatever answer she gave might only displease him.

So he made the decision himself: “You’ll go with me.”

Meeting his wife’s startled gaze, his face remained calm, his voice steady:

“It will show the world that you and I are of one heart and one mind—united as husband and wife.”

No one would be able to sow discord between them.

No one.

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