Shen Yujiao’s back went rigid.
Before she could process what he meant, his slender hand stroked along her back. “Everything you just said—I’ll pretend I never heard it. But don’t ever say such foolish things again.”
Foolish things? Even he thought she was being muddle-headed?
Shen Yujiao raised her eyes, her red lips trembling. “Why… why must you be like this?”
Pei Xia’s hand stopped. He looked back at her. “Like what?”
Shen Yujiao frowned. The man before her suddenly felt unfamiliar.
Perhaps silence was the wisest choice, yet she could no longer bear the ambiguity between them. She clenched her palms and spoke plainly: “Since you already know your wife’s heart has turned elsewhere, why not cut ties sooner? Shouzhen, you’re not like me—you’re a man. You have far more choices than I ever could.”
From the imperial exams and court positions, to managing family affairs, making friends, taking wives and concubines—
The world gives men countless rights and options. Even in arranged marriages of equal rank, if husband and wife are incompatible, it is often the man who divorces the woman. If a woman were to dismiss her husband—it would be a scandal, a shocking offense against all propriety.
“When the Shen family fell, our betrothal was already no fine match. Just as your mother and kin in Hedong lamented—given your family and talent, you could have chosen from many noble daughters of good families. Had you chosen one of them, your mother would have been pleased, your relatives content, and even the people of Hedong would have praised it as a union made in heaven. But instead, you married me—the daughter of a disgraced official. Not only did I take the position of the Pei family’s main wife, but I also drew your mother’s disdain and your clan’s criticism… and even now, I cannot be called a proper wife.”
Thinking back on their two years together, this marriage had brought Pei Xia nothing but loss.
Even setting Xie Wuling aside, purely from the standpoint of family alliance, Shen Yujiao sincerely wished Pei Xia a better future. “You’re still young, with a bright path ahead. After we part, you can find a woman who loves you wholeheartedly, grow old together in mutual affection—that would be true happiness. Isn’t that better than staying trapped with me, sharing a bed but not a heart, wasting both our lives? You’re too intelligent not to understand that failing to cut cleanly only brings greater harm. People seek higher ground—since you have better choices and the freedom to choose, why not exercise that right?”
If it were her, she thought, back on that day by Ba Bridge—if she’d been in his place, she would have at most sent some silver to ensure her unseen fiancée and her family reached Lingnan safely. That alone would have been more than enough kindness.
Even if she’d broken the engagement, no one could have blamed him. After all, who would abandon a noble bride to marry the daughter of a criminal?
It is human nature to seek benefit and avoid harm.
But he—he had been so foolish.
She remembered that autumn day at Ba Bridge, when she first learned Pei Xia truly meant to bring her home to wed. She had been stunned, incredulous, and deeply moved—but also, deep down, she couldn’t help thinking—
How foolish.
So this was the man her grandfather had chosen for her.
Too upright. Too steadfast. Too foolishly true to his word.
Was it that he’d studied himself into stupidity? Yet even that kind of stupidity… was rather endearing.
She could still remember the day he helped her onto the horse, encircling her in his arms—the sound of her own heartbeat then.
Sixteen years of life, and it was the first time her heart had ever pounded so violently.
Like spring winds melting snow, flowers bursting into bloom. Like the incessant chorus of cicadas in midsummer, noisy and unending.
Now, her clear black eyes were veiled with a faint mist as she forced a small smile toward him. “Brother Shouzhen don’t be foolish anymore. You made one wrong choice two years ago—don’t make a second one. If we can part peacefully, there will be countless good matches waiting for you, to bring you true happiness.”
“What if I said,” Pei Xia replied softly, sunlight slanting through the carved window across his pale, jade-like face, “that I don’t think bringing you back to Wenxi that day was a mistake?”
“Yuniang speaks so firmly, saying that Xie Wuling is the only one for you, and urging me to seek another woman for so-called completeness. But how can you be so certain,” his tone grew deeper, “that you are not the only one for me?”
Shen Yujiao froze, almost doubting her ears.
“The Pei Shouzhen of the past married the Shen family’s daughter out of duty and responsibility. But the Pei Shouzhen of today wishes to grow old with Shen Yujiao—not for duty, not for responsibility, but for love.”
His gaze sank deeper into hers, his voice turning hoarse and low. “Yuniang, I have fallen for you.”
Before he even realized it, she had quietly entered his heart. And by the time he became aware of it, his wife’s heart already belonged to another man.
To say he felt no regret would be a lie—but at least, she was still here beside him.
Shen Yujiao had no idea what was going through his mind. Her own was blank, drifting in a haze of confusion.
Pei Xia said—he had fallen for her.
He… loved her?
Not the protective affection of an elder brother for a younger sister.
Not the dutiful respect of a husband for his wife.
But the desire of a man for a woman.
How… how could that be possible? How could he ever like her?
Scenes flashed before her eyes—memories of their early days after marriage, when she’d leaned on him, drawn close to him.
Every time she saw him, she would rush to him like a swallow returning to its nest, skirts lifted in joy.
But he hadn’t liked that.
He would see her bounding toward him, eyes bright, lips curved in a sweet smile as she greeted him—“Langjun, you’re home!”—and he would frown, saying, “Even if you’re in the inner quarters, as the Pei family’s main wife, you should carry yourself with composure and dignity.”
His tone hadn’t been harsh—hardly a reprimand—more like gentle advice.
Yet that single frown was like a basin of cold water poured over her heart.
After that, she learned restraint. When he returned home, she would walk slowly toward him, her skirts and hair ornaments still, eyes lowered with a faint, proper smile. “Peace to Langjun.”
Little by little, she molded herself into the image of the wife he wanted.
And now he said he had feelings for her?
Then did he like the original Shen Yujiao—or the “Madam Pei” she had become by shaping herself to his wishes?
Shen Yujiao was lost.
She didn’t know what to say; all she felt was absurdity.
When her heart was full of him, he had been cold as ice.
Now that her heart had turned toward another man, he spoke of love.
“This morning,” Pei Xia said, “a letter came from the relay station. In a month’s time, Father-in-law, Mother-in-law, and your brother and sister-in-law will arrive in Chang’an.”
He reached up, leisurely tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his voice warm. “When they arrive, it should be snowing in Chang’an. Last year you couldn’t go out to see the plum blossoms, but this year your body’s stronger—don’t think of being lazy. We can go with your brother and sister-in-law, take the children too. The West Market’s mutton hotpot shop is still there—it will be lively…”
Seeing her still dazed and silent, he tilted her chin up between his long fingers. “What does Yuniang say?”
Her face was lifted by his hand, her eyes colliding with the depths of his.
The corners of his eyes curved upward—he was smiling—but the smile never reached his gaze. Something in it chilled her to the bone.
Her light-pink lips parted slightly, her voice taut. “You know I have already given my word to Xie Wuling, and that the bond between you and me has already ended—”
Before she could finish, he cut her off. “Keeping promises depends on to whom. Toward a shameless scoundrel who covets another man’s wife and refuses to let go, speaking of courtesy and reason only makes him bolder. Once this matter is settled, I will personally bring gifts to repay him—you need not concern yourself with it. As for you saying our bond has ended…”
“When did it end?”
The man held her jaw firmly, looking into her eyes, his features gentle. “Our marriage was set since childhood, and today it has borne fruit. Husband and wife in harmony, a well-behaved child, and soon the elders will return so our family can reunite. It is a rightful, blessed union—how could it be called ‘ended’? Besides, in this world, separations and reunions are not decided by fate. I only believe that human will can conquer heaven. Give it enough time, and you will surely return to me.”
His words defied all reason. Shen Yujiao frowned. “A forced melon isn’t sweet—why must you insist?”
Pei Xia’s gaze stayed fixed on the anger in her eyes. His chest felt heavy, yet his face remained calm. “You and I are a rightful couple—how is that ‘forcing’? The one forcing things is that Xie Wuling—a shameless man who inserted himself where he shouldn’t. But your heart has already turned toward him, so all you see is his kindness, his goodness, and you’ve forgotten entirely that I am your husband.”
“You say again and again that I’ve been kind to you and the Shen family, that my debt of grace is heavy as a mountain—yet today, to repay that kindness, you’d give yourself to another man? In that case—”
He gave a low, cold laugh.
“Then I, too, might as well be a petty man repaying kindness through possession.”
He pulled at the corner of his lips, his gaze cold and sharp. “Shen Yujiao, listen well. I don’t want you to repay me in the next life by becoming a beast of burden or by tying grass into rings. I only want you, in this life, to be my wife—loving and steadfast, together until our hair turns white.”
“As for divorce—absolutely impossible.”
“Unless I die. If I live, we share a bed; if I die, we share a grave. Even as a ghost, I’ll wait for you at the Bridge of Forgetfulness.”
Each word was clear, cold, and resolute.
Though it was midday and the sunlight was warmest, Shen Yujiao felt a chill spread through her whole body.
Was this man before her still the Pei Shouzhen she knew?
Or had she never truly understood the man sleeping by her side?
Pei Xia could clearly see the turmoil and confusion flickering in her eyes. After a moment of silence, he raised his hand and covered her eyes.
“Yuniang, don’t look at me like that.”
He didn’t like that look in her eyes— Yet he knew as well as she did that there was no going back.
But in this matter, he was destined to no longer be a gentleman.
—
When night fell, the wind rose outside.
Behind the screen, the maidservants exchanged uneasy glances. After much hesitation, they finally pushed Dongxu forward to ask, “Madam, it’s getting late. Would you like some supper?”
There was a brief silence behind the draped bed curtains before a faint, cool female voice replied, “No, I won’t eat tonight.”
Dongxu said anxiously, “But you hardly ate anything at noon, Madam. What if you make yourself ill? Even a bit of soup—just a few bites—would be good.”
“I have no appetite…”
“But—”
“That’s enough. All of you go. I have a headache and want to rest.”
“…”
The maids fell silent, hearing the distance in their mistress’s tone. None dared press further and quietly withdrew.
Once outside, their faces were drawn with worry. One sighed softly, “What’s happened now? Everything was fine before.”
“Who knows? She was off even at lunch. The master kept serving her food, but she barely touched anything.”
“Could she be unwell? Should we call a doctor?”
“…Let’s see how she is tomorrow.”
Dongxu shook her head and sighed, “Troubled times indeed.” Then she looked out at the darkening sky and murmured, “It’s so late already, and all the gates in the district are closed. Where could the master have gone? Why hasn’t he returned?”
Could it be… he wouldn’t come back tonight?
