The cold moon hung like a hook. The gilded paper lanterns under the eaves of Duke Ying’s residence swayed in the sharp autumn wind, their candlelight flickering like ghostly shadows.
Knock, knock, knock—
Three crisp knocks. The steward’s voice was low: “My lord, your esteemed guest has arrived.”
A brief silence inside, then— “Let him in.”
The steward turned to look into the vast darkness outside, where a tall man cloaked entirely in black approached. Though curious, he didn’t dare stare, and lowered his gaze. “This way, honored guest.”
The door opened. The man in black entered.
Duke Ying looked up from his desk at the sound.
Under the bright lamplight, the man—his face still hidden—walked forward at an unhurried pace.
When he stopped, he removed the black hood, revealing a cold, strikingly handsome face that immediately caught the Duke’s eye.
“My lord Duke, I trust you’ve been well.”
When the secret message first arrived, the Duke had thought it was someone from the Ministry of Justice or the Dali Temple seeking to defect. He never imagined that the man claiming to have a way to “escape the net” would turn out to be none other than Hanlin Scholar Pei Shouzhen!
The Duke’s expression shifted, then quickly smoothed into a genial smile. “To think that such a late-night visitor would be Scholar Pei! What a rare honor indeed! Please, please—sit! I’ll have a pot of fine tea brought in. Just the other day, I received a batch of the finest Golden Feather leaves from Meizhou—”
“There’s no need for courtesies,” Pei Xia interrupted calmly. “I came tonight only to make a deal with you.”
He remained standing, motionless, his dark eyes cool and detached. “Once the deal is done, I’ll leave.”
The Duke’s smile stiffened. He looked Pei over, this elegant and poised gentleman of the Pei family—and there was no mistaking it now.
A man like bright moonlight itself—stepping into this decadent mansion had already sullied his purity. He would never deign to drink its tea.
No wonder he was the Shen family’s son-in-law—just as sanctimonious as the Shens and Lis, those self-righteous “men of integrity.” Detestable.
Yet when Pei Xia took out half a page of an account book, the Duke’s heart lurched, his face changing instantly. “You—how did you get that?”
“There are no walls without cracks. Anything done leaves traces.”
Pei’s voice was cool and even. “Besides, you’ve been dealing in such vile trades for nearly ten years. Over time, even the most careful hands slip. And since you silence everyone who knows—killing even infants barely six months old—your cruelty may frighten your subordinates, but it also chills the heart. That old hag Qiu Po knew your nature—how could she not leave herself a way out?”
The Duke’s face darkened at once. “I don’t know what trade you’re talking about, or what this Qiu Po woman is supposed to have done…”
Pei Xia had spent days investigating, interrogating, and chasing leads—his body and mind already worn thin. His bitter argument with his wife that afternoon had only left him more agitated.
Now, seeing this old rat still feign ignorance, his patience snapped. He drew his lips into a cold line.
“Since the Duke pretends not to understand, there’s no point in continuing.”
“Tomorrow, when His Majesty returns to Chang’an, I will enter the palace and present this entire appalling case of abduction and trafficking—along with the blood-written petitions of the three hundred rescued from Weinan Prefecture—directly to the Emperor.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Pei Xia said evenly. “Duke Ying must also not yet know — the matter of you sending men to assassinate the Crown Prince, His Majesty is already aware of it.”
He paused slightly, then cast the Duke a long, meaningful glance. “His Majesty truly holds deep affection for you, his uncle by marriage. Even knowing you plotted to harm his own son, he has chosen to forgive, to endure the pain, and grant you one last chance.”
Duke Ying frowned deeply. “Assassinate the Crown Prince? When have I ever done such a thing?”
“Haven’t you?”
Pei Xia’s brows remained calm, his tone as cool and level as ever. “Then perhaps the Dragon Shadow Guards under His Majesty must have falsely accused you with fabricated evidence.”
“But there’s no need for the Duke to worry about it anymore. His Majesty has said himself — he will forgive you one more time and not pursue the past. What’s done is done. What you should consider now is how much of His Majesty’s old affection for you still remains — and whether that little remaining favor will be enough, tomorrow, to preserve your wealth, your glory… and your head.”
With that, he put his wide black hood back on and took a step backward. “My words end here. I’ll take my leave.”
Duke Ying stood before the desk, his face dark and rigid.
One step. Two steps. Three steps…
Just as that tall, black-clad figure reached the doorway, the Duke bit down hard and called out, “Scholar Pei, wait!”
Pei Xia turned slightly, lifting his eyelids without hurry. “Does the Duke have further instruction?”
The Duke braced both hands on the edge of the desk, his sparse brows knotted tightly. After a long inner struggle, he finally let out a deep sigh. “What is it you want in this… trade of yours?”
Pei Xia wasn’t surprised.
In fact, he was ninety percent certain the Duke would agree — because what he wanted was, to the Duke, utterly worthless.
“What I seek,” Pei said slowly, “is the life of the Eldest Princess Jinhua.”
A shadow flickered through his dark eyes. His voice remained calm and unhurried. “For this trade, Duke, you stand only to gain. Why wouldn’t you take it?”
—
The next day was a cloudy, gray one. Outside the courtyard, the last leaf on the parasol tree finally fell.
One leaf falls and autumn is known; when all have fallen, winter is near.
Shen Yujiao had slept a long, heavy sleep. When she awoke, her maids reported that Pei Xia had gone out yesterday after lunch and had yet to return.
She only answered, “Oh,” and at first had no wish to ask further.
But then she thought of how uncertain things had been lately — how he had been running about every day, dealing with affairs outside — and what if he caught the attention of those hidden enemies, what if someone plotted against him…
Though still stifled with resentment over yesterday’s quarrel, worry rose in her heart nonetheless. So she instructed Bai Ping, “Go to the front and find out where he’s gone.”
Bai Ping’s eyes brightened, and she smiled quickly. “Yes, madam, this servant will go right away.”
Seeing that look, Shen Yujiao knew at once what they were imagining, so she added, “Don’t say it was me who asked. Say it was… Qiao Momo.”
After all, the old Momo was always fussing over Pei Xia — no one would think twice if she sent someone to ask.
Bai Ping, assuming her mistress was simply too proud to admit her concern, quickly composed her smile and replied cheerfully, “Don’t worry, madam. I understand.”
Shen Yujiao: “…”
Forget it. The more she explained, the worse it would sound.
After a simple wash, she had breakfast, then asked the nurse to bring Di Ge’er over.
The boy broke into a bright grin the moment he saw her, babbling happily, “Yah, yah—”
Looking at that snowy, jade-like face, Shen Yujiao’s heart softened — yet an inexplicable ache spread through it as well.
“You little thing…”
She lowered her head and gently poked his tender, pale cheek with a slender finger, murmuring softly, “Tell me… what should your mother do?”
Thinking she was playing with him, the baby waved his chubby white hands, trying to grab her finger, laughing sweetly, “Yah, nah-nah~~”
That carefree laugh, those clear black-and-white eyes shining with innocence — they made Shen Yujiao’s thoughts drift.
Such a pure smile.
Such clean, untainted eyes.
How nice it must be to be a child — nothing to worry about but eating, sleeping, and playing. Unlike adults, burdened endlessly with worries and troubles.
“Do you still remember your Uncle Xie? If not for him last year, you wouldn’t be here now.”
Her lashes lowered, voice softening to a whisper. “Do you think he’s ever regretted it? If he hadn’t stopped me back then, if I had taken that bowl of miscarriage medicine and lost you, your father would’ve had no reason to bring me back…”
Her thoughts shifted to Xie Wuling’s calm tolerance — then to Pei Xia’s cold, unyielding words from the day before.
He had spoken so harshly, so unlike himself — nothing like the gentle Brother Shouzhen she once knew.
Yet as she had lain in bed last night, thinking for a long time, she realized that change had begun long before — from the moment they met again in Jinling.
It was just that her trust and admiration for him had been too deep; they had blinded her. She had mistaken his strangeness for guilt, his restraint for affection — even his rough, possessive passion in bed, she had excused as a man’s need, as a husband’s way of expressing his care through dominance.
Now she understood — it wasn’t just a husband’s claim on his wife. It was a man’s jealousy toward another man.
How strange indeed — that the ever-serene, abstinent gentleman of the Pei family could be jealous.
“Yah~ yah~”
The child caught her finger again, and she came back to herself. Seeing his cheerful grin, she took a handkerchief and wiped his mouth, smiling softly. “You little drooler, how can you have so much drool every single day?”
Being with the child, she was able to briefly forget her troubles.
By midday, there was still no news of Pei Xia’s whereabouts—but Pei Yi came to visit instead.
It had only been seven or eight days since they last met, yet Pei Yi, dressed in a willow-green gown, had grown noticeably thinner. Even with rouge on her cheeks and lipstick on her lips, the exhaustion between her brows and eyes was unmistakable.
Seeing her like this, Shen Yujiao was taken aback—someone who didn’t know better might have thought she was the one who had been drugged and abducted that day.
Just as she was about to ask, Pei Yi suddenly grasped her hand, eyes brimming with tears. “Thank heavens, Sister-in-law, you’re all right… Do you know how terrified I was when I heard you had suddenly disappeared that day…”
The sixteen-year-old girl had been delicately raised within the inner chambers since childhood—she had never encountered anything like that before. When she returned home that day, she was so frightened she fell ill.
She dared not reveal that it was Shen Yujiao who had gone missing, so each time she thought of it while bedridden, she could not stop crying from guilt.
The Wang family, unaware of the truth, thought she was grieving because she had learned of Pei Tong’s passing. They believed she was mourning out of affection for a fellow sister-in-law—so gentle-hearted, faithful, and virtuous—a model of wifely virtue.
Even Wang Huanwen came to visit her room in person. He not only fed her medicine himself but also wiped her tears, comforting her: “You mustn’t blame yourself or be too grieved. What happened to her has nothing to do with you. From now on, we’ll live our life well. The Madam of the Wang family—will only ever be you, Pei Wuniang.”
Pei Yi truly was blaming herself—but not for Pei Tong. Yet she couldn’t explain, so she merely continued to cry silently.
Now that she had recovered somewhat and heard that Shen Yujiao had returned to the mansion, she immediately came to visit.
“It’s all my fault,” Pei Yi said, crying like pear blossoms in the rain. “That day I shouldn’t have stayed out so long—and I shouldn’t have called Xiaying downstairs either. Because of me, you had no one by your side and fell into that trap! Thank goodness you came back safe. If anything had happened to you… I truly don’t know how I could have gone on living.”
Her crying set off Di Ge’er Ge’er beside them, who began wailing as well.
Shen Yujiao could neither cry nor laugh. She hurriedly motioned for the nursemaid to take the child away, then turned to comfort Pei Yi. “It’s all over now, don’t cry. We’re both young madams of the same household—how can you still cry like a child?”
It took a long while before Pei Yi finally stopped crying. Still sniffling, she began to ask about what had happened that day.
Shen Yujiao didn’t hide it from her and briefly described the events—though she omitted the part about being stranded in the wilderness with Xie Wuling.
Pei Yi listened in astonishment, her reddened eyes wide. When Shen Yujiao finished, Pei Yi looked at her with nothing but admiration—pure admiration. “Sister-in-law, you’re amazing!”
Shen Yujiao, embarrassed under her gaze, lifted her teacup and took a sip, smiling modestly. “It wasn’t that much.”
“How can you say that? If it were me—waking up to find my hands and feet bound, thrown into a pitch-dark carriage—I’d probably die of fright right there…”
Not to mention, Shen Yujiao had escaped with a whole cart of young girls, and even had the courage to return and infiltrate the enemy’s den to rescue more abducted girls.
Pei Yi cupped her snowy cheeks with both hands, her bright eyes sparkling. “Sister-in-law, you’re just like the heroines in those storybooks I’ve read—those chivalrous women who draw their swords to fight injustice!”
Shen Yujiao blinked, a little surprised, yet also faintly delighted to find a kindred spirit.
So the quiet, gentle Fifth Lady Pei, who always seemed so reserved and soft-spoken, secretly liked reading those stories about the martial world—of swords, vengeance, and gallant adventure?
When Shen Yujiao was a child, she used to sneak such books herself, until her mother found out, confiscated them, and scolded her: “A young lady shouldn’t read such violent tales—they’ll make your heart wild!”
Then her mother had turned around and given her brother a good tongue-lashing for buying those books for her in the first place.
After that, Shen Yujiao stopped reading them. She grew up and had to learn the many things befitting a noblewoman—there was no time for such stories.
Back when she lived in the Wenxi ancestral home, she’d often heard that Third Master Pei and his wife doted on their daughters. Now it seemed true—at least, they hadn’t forbidden Pei Yi from reading such tales.
Perhaps because of her status, Pei Yi wasn’t expected to marry into any great household. A comfortable marriage to a modest official was enough—so she wasn’t bound by so many rules.
Just as Shen Yujiao was about to ask whether Pei Yi still read those stories after marriage, Pei Yi suddenly remembered something.
“On my way here,” she said, “I saw a huge crowd of women heading toward the Jingzhao Prefecture office. I also overheard people in the street saying they’d come from Weinan. It was all quite chaotic, so I didn’t inquire further—but now that I think about it…”
Pei Yi frowned and looked at Shen Yujiao with worry. “Sister-in-law, could those women be connected to what happened to you?”
