Song of the Bright Moon Chapter 90

Wave after wave of soldiers skilled at swimming dove into the river, but each time they returned with nothing—only disappointment.

Until dawn finally broke, when the master from Weinan Prefecture, versed in waterworks, studied the river’s flow and the direction of the wind, calculating a rough area: “Search along the southwestern channel. A new gourd-shaped tributary was dug there recently—it splits into a shallow stream. There’s an eighty percent chance they were swept that way.”

The remaining twenty percent— meant bodies sunk to the riverbed, fish gnawing at their flesh.

But the old master wouldn’t dare say such unlucky words aloud. After all, Lord Pei’s face had been dark as ink the entire night, and the oppressive chill radiating from him filled every corner of the room. None of them dared even breathe too loudly.

“Southwest…”

Pei Xia had not slept at all; red veins rimmed his eyes, and a faint stubble shadowed his pale jaw.

Now that he had a direction, he couldn’t stay still for even a moment. He strode out at once.

The eldest son of the Li family, though exhausted, didn’t dare say much—he hurried to follow. “Shouzhen! Wait for me!”

At the city gates, the sleepy guards yawned as they prepared to open up for the day. But before they could finish, a troop of riders came galloping toward them—swift as arrows loosed from a bowstring.

The thunder of hooves and swirling dust startled the guards fully awake. Faces pale, they pressed themselves against the wall to avoid being trampled.

“Peh! Peh-peh!” one guard spat out dust and muttered, “What are they doing, rushing to be reborn?”

When they looked again, the riders had already vanished into the distance beneath the faint blue-gray dawn sky.

—

The autumn air was dim and mournful, cold cicadas crying pitifully.

At last, dawn arrived.

When Xie Wuling drifted back to consciousness, the first thing that came into view was the girl’s porcelain-pale, gentle face.

In the soft morning light, she rested her chin on one hand, head bowed slightly. Her brows arched like spring hills, her lips tinted with rose—beautiful like a tranquil, misted painting.

The only flaw, perhaps, was the faint furrow between her brows—even in sleep.

Such sorrow, so delicate, so heartbreaking.

He raised his hand, wanting to smooth that crease away.

But before his fingers could touch her, those dark eyes flew open, startled.

Still hazy from sleep, her gaze was misty, reminding him of the spring rain in Jinling.

“You’re awake!”

Like sunlight breaking through clouds, the brightness in her eyes scattered the haze at once. Shen Yujiao’s joy overflowed. “That’s wonderful—so wonderful…”

She was clearly happy, yet as she spoke, tears welled again, her voice trembling. “You scared me to death.”

“Heh. I told you, my life’s tough. Even the King of H*ll shakes his head at me.”

Xie Wuling chuckled softly. His face was still pale and weak, but his spirit was far stronger than the near-dead man from last night. He reached up to wipe the tears at the corner of her eyes. “Don’t cry anymore. Last night you cried so much, I almost drowned.”

This man—barely recovered, and already teasing again!

Shen Yujiao glared at him through her tears. “Save your strength and talk less.”

“Alright.”

He agreed easily—but after just a breath, he spoke again. “Still, there’s something I have to ask clearly.”

She blinked in confusion. “What is it?”

Resting his head on her lap, his peach blossom eyes serious yet faintly anxious, Xie Wuling asked, “Last night, I think I heard you say that if I made it through alive… you’d separate from Pei Shouzhen and marry me?”

He didn’t know whether this was an illusion before death, or if it was real.

But the moment he spoke, seeing Shen Yujiao’s slight stiffness and the flicker in her eyes, he instantly understood—

It was real.

Not an illusion.

Jiaojiao really had said she would marry him.

This time, she had finally chosen him.

He was no longer the one left behind.

A wave of wild joy surged through him—Xie Wuling’s blood-drained face flushed red, his dark narrow eyes brightened to a burning brilliance as he looked at her with feverish intensity. “Jiaojiao, I—cough!”

His throat itched sharply; before he could finish, he turned aside and spat out a mouthful of blood.

“Xie Wuling!”

“Don’t—cough, cough—I’m fine.”

Xie Wuling waved his hand dismissively, wiped the blood from his lips with his sleeve, and turned back to her with a smile in his eyes. “Even if I die this very moment, I’d still be the happiest ghost in the world.”

“You and that mouth of yours—always life and death, gods and ghosts. Can’t you avoid saying such things?”

Seeing the dark stain spreading on his back, Shen Yujiao frowned tightly. “The wound is bleeding again.”

But Xie Wuling, steeped in the joy of Jiaojiao’s promise, felt no pain at all. His brows and eyes curved in a smile. “It’s nothing. Just a small wound.”

Shen Yujiao sighed helplessly.

Now that daylight had broken, their close posture looked improper. She raised her hand and gently pushed him. “Get up.”

But as soon as she spoke, Xie Wuling frowned and groaned, “Ah, it hurts—my back hurts.”

Shen Yujiao startled. “Why does it hurt again? You just said you were fine!”

Xie Wuling slumped weakly into her arms, looking pitiful. “If you let me hold you a little longer, it won’t hurt anymore.”

Shen Yujiao: “…”

Her cheeks flushed with heat; embarrassment and exasperation tangled as she clenched her hands, half wanting to hit him.

But thinking of his wound, she took two deep breaths before saying, “If you ever scare me like that again, I’ll… I’ll never speak to you again.”

“That won’t do.”

Xie Wuling said, “If you ignore me, that would truly kill me.”

“You still dare talk back?”

“Alright, alright, I won’t say another word.”

“Then get up.”

Shen Yujiao pushed him again, a trace of worry in her gaze. “It’s daylight. Pei Xia and the others will come looking any time.”

“Let them. I’ll just tell him about the divorce, and then you’ll come back to Chang’an with me.”

His tone grew excited as he went on, “The broker showed me two houses before—one in Guiyi Ward near the Vermilion Bird Gate, and one in Yongning Ward. The Guiyi one’s a bit far out, but it’s spacious and elegant, with a tall osmanthus tree in the courtyard. If we move there, we can brew wine and make osmanthus cakes when the flowers bloom. As for Yongning Ward, the location’s good, but the house is small—the only advantage is it’s close to the Pei residence…”

He paused.

He used to think that was a benefit.

But now that Jiaojiao had agreed to be with him, wouldn’t living near Yongning Ward only let Pei Shouzhen take advantage?

Still, their son Di Ge’er was young, and Jiaojiao would want to see him. Staying nearby would make it easier for her to visit.

While Xie Wuling wrestled over which house to choose, Shen Yujiao was equally troubled over the matter of divorce.

Last night’s danger had frightened her badly—she had indeed promised him then.

But now that she was calm and saw him safe, recalling that hasty promise from panic and emotion… it felt reckless.

She did hope Xie Wuling would live—and yes, she was willing to marry him.

But how was she to face Pei Xia?

A man could divorce a wife with one of the “Seven Grounds for Dismissal.” There was no precedent for a woman divorcing her husband. Even a mutual separation required just cause.

She and Pei Xia had been married for two years. It wasn’t perfect, but he had treated her well—his kindness far outweighed their quarrels.

That she could not keep her heart, that she’d fallen for another man—already, she had wronged him.

If she now asked to separate…

Once word spread, people would surely point at her nose and curse: “Faithless, shameless woman—ungrateful and wanton.”

Now, on one side was Xie Wuling, who had risked his life for her, wholly devoted. On the other, Pei Xia—her betrothed since childhood, benefactor to her family, and father of her child.

Shen Yujiao shut her eyes in pain, wishing she could split herself in two so both sides could be fulfilled.

Hearing Xie Wuling still happily talking about houses, she couldn’t help but pour cold water on him. “Don’t rush about the houses yet. Divorce isn’t a small matter. Wait until I go back and find a proper time to bring it up.”

Especially with this kidnapping still unresolved—she needed to settle that before she could calmly deal with matters of love.

Xie Wuling also knew the divorce wouldn’t be easy, especially since Pei Shouzhen, for all his gentle and refined demeanor, was not someone mild to deal with.

He’d managed to snatch Jiaojiao away on her wedding day once; he surely wouldn’t agree easily to a separation now.

After a moment of silence, Xie Wuling suddenly said, “Jiaojiao, let’s forget everything—just run away together. We’ll live as an ordinary couple, maybe in the mountains, you weaving and me farming. Or we’ll find a quiet, lively little town—I’ll work outside, you do whatever you like at home.”

Shen Yujiao was stunned. “No—no, that’s impossible…”

To elope as a married woman—that was wantonness, a disgrace.

Everything she’d been taught forbade such madness.

Not to mention, she still had her child and her family.

Xie Wuling had guessed this reaction.

She wasn’t like him. 

He was alone in this world—his only tie, his only care—was her.

But she—unlike him—still had many ties she could not let go of.

“I was only teasing you,” Xie Wuling said with a lazy curl of his thin lips, a hint of weariness in his expression. “Even if you were willing, I wouldn’t agree. I intend to be your rightful husband, to bring proper betrothal gifts and personally pay my respects to your father and mother one day.”

Shen Yujiao secretly let out a breath of relief. Then she heard him continue, “As long as I know that I hold a place in your heart, that’s enough.”

“As for the divorce, don’t feel pressured. Let’s first find out who harmed you this time—then we’ll think about you and me.”

Xie Wuling looked at her solemnly. “If you can’t bring yourself to say it, I’ll speak with Pei Shouzhen myself. At worst, he can beat me up to vent his anger—I’ll take it willingly.”

Shen Yujiao’s gaze lowered slightly. After two beats of silence, she still shook her head. “It’s between him and me. I’ll tell him myself.”

She knew Pei Xia had always disliked Xie Wuling and would never be willing to listen to him.

As for her and Pei Xia…

Last year, when she had begged to stay in Jinling, his expression had already shown he was thinking of fulfilling her and Xie Wuling’s bond.

It was only because of the child in her belly that he’d felt responsible and insisted on taking her back with him.

Now that the child was born, and being of the Pei family’s bloodline, the boy should stay with his father…

With Pei Xia’s status and reputation, he would have no trouble finding a highborn woman to marry.

As for Di Ge’er, she could visit often. Xie Wuling would never stop her, and Pei Xia… likely wouldn’t either.

Thinking of how both men were unfailingly kind to the child, Shen Yujiao’s guilt deepened.

No matter which man she hurt, it felt utterly unforgivable.

While her thoughts tangled endlessly, a sudden sound of pounding hooves broke through the forest stillness.

Shen Yujiao’s eyelashes trembled. She lifted her head and saw, beneath the slanting beams of golden sunlight, a troop of riders galloping swiftly toward them.

“They must have found us!”

A spark of joy flashed through her—then panic. She quickly pushed at Xie Wuling. “Get up, hurry!”

This time, Xie Wuling didn’t resist.

Though he would have liked to show off before Pei Xia, he still put Shen Yujiao’s reputation first in front of outsiders.

Thinking so, he sat up and straightened his robe. “Jiaojiao, call out. Let them know we’re here.”

Shen Yujiao didn’t quite understand, but seeing his serious look, she obeyed.

“We’re here!” she shouted as loudly as she could.

The hoofbeats halted.

Moments later, they started again—

Da-da-da, da-da-da…

Coming quickly closer, but now only two riders remained.

In the dazzling gold of autumn sunlight, Pei Xia and Li Dalang appeared, one riding before the other.

Pei Xia was still dressed in the same cyan-blue brocade robe from yesterday, tall and elegant as ever, though his refined features carried a trace of exhaustion.

When his gaze fell upon the pair sitting on the grassy riverbank—disheveled, clothes torn, and his wife’s sleeves and hem visibly ripped—Pei Xia’s long fingers slowly tightened around the reins.

Li Dalang caught up, his face paling and flushing in turn at the sight of a man and woman alone together after a night apart. Nervously, he turned to Pei Xia. “Shouzhen, that Young Master Xie is injured, and Yuniang was knocked down by him. The two of them must surely be —”

“Brother-in-law, there’s no need to say more.”

Pei Xia’s eyes darkened, but his voice was calm. He unfastened the black cloak from his shoulders, dismounted, and said evenly, “Husband and wife are bound by hair and vow; affection should know no doubt.”

“She is my wife. Of course I trust her.”