Shen Mingyu rubbed her sore stomach, nodded, and then hurriedly shook her head: “He just kicked me once. I can still walk; it’s not a bother at all.”
She only wanted to get down the mountain as quickly as possible, and she tugged at Pei Shumin’s sleeve.
Yet he remained unmoving, his dark, deep pupils fixed on her.
Pei Shumin rarely got angry, and ever since they had been married, he almost never put on a stern face. The last time he had gotten angry was when an unscrupulous merchant swindled her out of her money.
“Who kicked you?”
Shen Mingyu had no choice but to point toward the man sleeping soundly not far away.
He pressed down on her shoulders, lit a flint, and stood up.
From behind the bushes came Lu Cong’s hoarse, wailing cries, one after another, making her heart leap with fright. Shen Mingyu tightly clutched her sleeve and peeked toward that direction, but she couldn’t see what he was doing.
When he returned, the fire had already been blown out. Pei Shumin expressionlessly wiped the dust off his hands and squatted down in front of her: “Yuniang, get on. I’ll carry you down the mountain.”
This was the first time Pei Shumin had ever carried her.
Shen Mingyu wrapped her small arms around him, and he carried her with light, swift steps as they walked along the small path in the wilderness. She rested on Pei Shumin’s shoulder, listening to the desolate wind whistling past her ears, watching the falling branches and leaves blur past like a revolving lantern, all while marveling at how sturdy and strong his back was.
By the time they reached the foot of the mountain, they saw the ox cart waiting in the distance. It was Uncle Zhang.
A few starlight-like raindrops began to fall. Uncle Zhang wore a bamboo rain hat and sat on the front board of the cart, waving his hands anxiously again and again.
After staying at the inn for three consecutive days, until peace was restored and no more news came from outside, the young couple finally planned to leave.
On this day, the blue sky was washed clean, and Shen Mingyu stood by the window. The cool autumn breeze gently blew through the young woman’s soft hair, and she looked out at the distant dark-green mountains. Pei Shumin entered the room as usual, carrying a bowl of porridge he had scooped from the kitchen.
“Mingyu, come over and eat.”
The other person didn’t respond. Pei Shumin paid closer attention and discovered that she was no longer looking at the scenery, but was instead staring intently at two ducks fighting in the backyard.
She was watching with complete absorption, propping up her slightly baby-fat chin. Pei Shumin curved his lips into a smile and didn’t disturb her further; instead, he turned around to pack their bundles.
“Brother Pei, do you know the Marquis of Wu’an?”
Pei Shumin’s hand holding an item suddenly paused.
He glanced back. Her attention was still outside the window, cozy and natural, as if she were just asking casually.
Pei Shumin continued packing the bundle, putting in one item after another, before replying a moment later: “I’ve heard of him, yes. What’s wrong?”
“Why do you suppose those bandits captured me? They said they knew the Marquis of Wu’an…”
Shen Mingyu suddenly turned her head, a pair of clear, astonished eyes looking straight at him: “The Marquis of Wu’an, just how high of an official must he be! But we’re just ordinary commoners; we don’t even get to see the face of the county magistrate lord, oh heavens, oh heavens…” She muttered those words several times over, finally whispering that it was too bizarre.
Pei Shumin felt as though he had done something shady, so he simply kept silent.
This muddy water was something he had waded into himself. If he hadn’t gone to the County Magistrate’s residence and hadn’t seen the Marquis of Wu’an, how could Yuniang have caught the attention of that group of people and been mistakenly captured?
As for the mistaken capture, Pei Shumin found it truly hard to comprehend what on earth those people had in their brains—to actually capture the wrong person.
After packing their things, Pei Shumin picked up the bundle and called out. Shen Mingyu trotted closely behind him as they ran out.
The couple bid farewell to the innkeeper and walked out the front doors. The wind from the outskirts blew straight toward them, instantly scattering the gloomy clouds of the past several days.
At that moment, Uncle Zhang’s ox cart was also waiting on the path.
Shen Mingyu took a deep breath, smiled, and called out to uncle, and Uncle Zhang waved back cheerfully. Just as she was about to get on the cart, she suddenly noticed the frayed gray cloth cuff of Pei Shumin’s sleeve—the mountain paths had been difficult to navigate, and this was scraped by the bushes when Pei Shumin carried her down the mountain.
Shen Mingyu held it in her palm, rubbed it with heartache, and then whispered to her husband: “Thank goodness you saved me. Later on, I must mend this properly…”
“Forget it, I won’t mend it after all. I’ll go to the draper’s shop and buy you a new one! This outfit is already old and full of patches anyway.”
“No need, Yuniang, I can still wear it. Just mend it for me.”
Before Shen Mingyu could speak out, Uncle Zhang’s laughter had already drifted from the front of the cart: “You little couple, you care for and miss each other. Little Mingyu, you have no idea how anxious he was when he couldn’t find you at that time! This fellow…”
Before Uncle Zhang could finish, he was suddenly interrupted by a light cough. Exchanging a look with Mingyu, he stopped talking and instead hummed a cheerful tune as he continued driving the cart.
Late autumn golden fields stretched everywhere, and the rustic wind blew right at them. Shen Mingyu gazed at the young man beside her; he merely brushed off his sleeve, his earlobes slightly red, and looked straight ahead as if nothing had happened.
“Brother Pei.”
Shen Mingyu quietly inched closer and rested her head on his shoulder.
Suddenly, she was pulled into a tight embrace, and a melodious, deep murmur of “Mn” drifted from above her head. It was merely a single “Mn,” yet it felt like the rising sun shining down, as if she could see an entire wilderness of golden autumn.
Returning home, Pei Shumin rummaged through boxes and chests to take out three strings of copper coins for Uncle Zhang. Upon seeing this, Uncle Zhang waved his hands hurriedly: “No, no, I won’t take it! Uncle was just helping you transport some goods, and every month I still get a hefty share of money—how would it look for me to take your money on top of that?”
“Just take it.”
Pei Shumin glanced at his wife, who was still drawing water by the well, and said thoughtfully, “Future things are hard to predict, Uncle Zhang. I don’t even know how much longer I can keep running this business. You taking it gives me peace of mind.”
“What does that mean? Isn’t your storefront running fine and full of promise? Did something happen?”
Uncle Zhang was terribly worried, thinking that they were tight on cash: “If you’re short on funds, tell your uncle. Uncle has saved up for half a lifetime and still has some money.”
Pei Shumin smiled without replying, simply thanking him first for his kind intentions.
After sending Uncle Zhang off and walking over to the fence, Shen Mingyu was holding a bowl of broken grains to feed the chickens.
The autumn sun shone warmly, and everything seemed so wonderful, but with the deadline approaching, that lingering matter weighed heavily on their hearts.
Pei Shumin watched in silence, then suddenly spoke up: “Yuniang, how about we move to a different place to live?”
“Move to where?”
Shen Mingyu turned her head, her two eyes sparkling brightly. She was just about to agree when she suddenly paused.
This suggestion of his came quite abruptly. Amidst her surprise, Shen Mingyu suddenly remembered one thing: could it be because of her maternal family?
The last time her mother came knocking on their door demanding money, even though Pei Lang handed it over without a word, twenty taels of silver was no small sum, and anyone’s heart would ache over it. Yet she felt it didn’t quite seem like that; Pei Lang had always been a person who dealt with matters calmly, not someone who would move just to avoid a particular person. She always felt there had to be another reason behind this.
Though she didn’t know what Pei Lang’s plans were, Shen Mingyu was somewhat excited. For her, moving would indeed be a great thing—her mother wouldn’t be able to come looking for her to demand money anymore.
Yet she also felt a sense of reluctance; she had already lived here for quite some time and got along very well with the villagers, visiting each other often. Just a few days ago, she was still harvesting rice in the fields together with Qiuniang and the others.
Thinking about this, Shen Mingyu couldn’t help but cup her chin and ponder: “Pei Lang, would you be willing to leave? We’ve lived here for so long, and you even grew up here since you were a child. If we move to a new place, we won’t know anyone…”
“What’s so hard to let go of?”
He had been all alone before and had lived by himself back then as well. Pei Shumin curved his lips into a smile, “Aren’t you still by my side? It’s just changing places and living life the same way.”
“Then where are we moving to?”
Pei Shumin lowered his eyes and paused for a few moments, “The Capital. What do you think?”
“The Capital?!” She was so shocked she hurriedly rubbed her ears, thinking she had misheard, and tugged at Pei Shumin to make him say it again.
When he stated that place once more, Shen Mingyu’s jaw dropped in astonishment—she had lived in a village her whole life, and hadn’t even stepped out of a place as large as Pingyang County, let alone explored all of it. It was only when she listened to the tutor’s lectures at school that she dreamed of getting to visit Jinling one day in her lifetime.
Pingyang County was the most remote and smallest county town in all of Jinling, and she would have considered her life complete just taking a trip to Jinling. Yet Pei Lang was telling her they were going to move to the Capital City! That was a place she had only ever seen in the old tutor’s books; that place—that place was worlds apart from where they were!
Shen Mingyu thought she was living in a dream, or that her ears had gone deaf. She grabbed Pei Shumin’s sleeve, “Really? Can we really go to the Capital?”
“What do you think?”
Shen Mingyu nodded, then shook her head.
Pei Shumin looked puzzled, and she hurriedly said: “I think it’s great, but… I’m not sure either. Do you think things cost a lot of money in a place like that? If our money isn’t enough, wouldn’t we… be chased out?”
Pei Shumin merely smiled and did not answer. After a moment, he gently gathered her shoulders: “I was just joking with you. We’re not going to the Capital; we’re not going anywhere.”
Pei Shumin thought for a moment, “Yuniang, once we earn some money, let’s buy a small house in the county town, how about that?”
Shen Mingyu looked up at him with her small face and nodded cheerfully.
Running his business required Pei Shumin to travel back and forth, which was very exhausting. If they could really move to Pingyang County, that would be wonderful. If the storefront was right next to their home, Pei Shumin could have a much easier time.
It was just that houses in the county town were too expensive. People had said since she was a kid that even the cheapest single-courtyard house cost at least fifty taels—fifty taels, an amount an ordinary person would have to toil bitterly at labor, eating and drinking nothing, for eight years to save up.
She wondered how long it would take for her and Pei Lang to save that up together?
Shen Mingyu sighed silently.
Sigh, if only they had a little more money. What other ways were there to get some more money?
Two days later, Pei Shumin knocked on the doors of the Magistrate’s residence once again.
He stood before those vermilion gates, next to the tall and majestic Bixi turtle sculpture, its stone base inscribed with four characters—”Upright, Honest, Benevolent, and Harmonious.” In front of the estate’s gates was a serene small alley paved with bluestone slabs, with verdant green weeping willows planted along both sides. Located in the finest district of Pingyang County, this place was surrounded by one wealthy manor after another, and past the high walls, one could catch glimpses of flying eaves and waterside pavilions.
This place was magnificent and grand, making everything about him appear so insignificant. Yet, his expression remained clear and detached, standing tall in his cloth robes without being moved by external things, resembling a trace of tranquil gray amidst heaven and earth.
Half a joss stick’s length later, a servant came back with a message and opened the estate’s gates: “Young Master Pei, our lord invites you. Please come with me.”
Pei Shumin followed him through the courtyards and finally stopped before a main hall.
Pushing open the door, he found a spacious and bright study where the lord had already set out tea sets and made a polite gesture inviting him to take a seat.
Instead, he stood still, shook his head slightly, and bowed politely: “My visit this time is to fulfill our previous agreement and give the Marquis an answer.”
“Pei is merely a nobody, accustomed to being self-reliant, so I won’t follow the Marquis back to the capital and add to everyone’s trouble.”
“Why?” The man in the rosewood armchair was genuinely puzzled: “As far as I know, you just recently set up a storefront in Pingyang County, and your business has only just begun. Since you need to support a family, you do it for money. If you follow me back to the capital, not to mention what position you might hold in the future, just the boundless wealth and glory alone would already be within your grasp. Furthermore, you father and son have been separated for over a dozen years in the blink of an eye, and my friend is already quite elderly. Don’t you want to see what kind of person he is and what he looks like?”
When he finished speaking, his brows were deeply knitted in a tangle.
Yet the young man standing in the hall lowered his gaze, swept his sleeve, and smiled: “Never mind. I already know that you all reside within high gates. Your friend has a family and perhaps already has other offspring, not just me. But I only have one home, and a wife to take care of.”
When all was said and done, it turned out he couldn’t let go of his wife at home.
The Marquis of Wu’an instead felt relieved, picked up his tea cup again, and smiled cheerfully: “That’s not hard to deal with. Just bring her along when you follow us back to the capital.”
“If you truly like her, once we reach the capital, we can find a residence to keep her, provided with good food and drink. Her days ahead will only be better than before, never worse.”
“Would she still be my wife then?” He suddenly raised his gaze, his eyes pure, seemingly carrying a power that could peer straight into human hearts.
Amidst the continuous silence of the Marquis of Wu’an, he shook his head and smiled: “She wouldn’t be, right?”
That land of mortal prosperity was also a treacherous arena of rights and wrongs. Once stepped into, everything would change. His life over the past dozen years, his identity, she, and they would no longer be an ordinary couple in a small mountain village in Pingyang County.
The Marquis of Wu’an quietly lifted the tea lid, took a sip, and spoke in a clear voice: “As far as I know, she is merely a rustic village woman. Once you return to the capital, the disparity in your social status will naturally mean she cannot remain your wife.”
“If I were you, I would either settle things with her for her to be a concubine, provided with fine clothes and gourmet food, or else, out of consideration for husband-and-wife affection, give her a sum of money so she can find another place to belong.”
Pei Shumin thought about it, and though he said nothing more, he still refused.
He bid farewell to the Marquis, bid farewell to the Magistrate’s residence, and walked along the wide avenue lined with green willows.
The gentle breeze fluttered his robes as they billowed in the wind, yet his resolute gaze remained fixed straight ahead, unmoved by the dust of the floating world.
In this lifetime, there were far too many choices to be made, yet he knew clearly what he truly wanted and what kind of path he would walk in the future.
Time flew by in a blur. The high gates he had inadvertently touched upon and the grand figures he had seen seemed merely like a pebble dropped into the lake of his peaceful days, stirring up circles of ripples before vanishing without a trace in a gust of wind.
And after witnessing that brief brilliance, he too returned to the life of an ordinary commoner who worked at sunrise and rested at sunset, diligently tending to his business.
Half a month later, following the departure of the Marquis of Wu’an’s entourage, Pei Shumin also brought Shen Mingyu into the county town to buy supplies for the winter.
On the day they entered the city, it was the first day of the twelfth lunar month, and fluffy snowflakes were drifting heavily across the sky. Everyone said that an auspicious snow promised a bountiful year, and the coming year would surely be a wonderful sight.
Amidst the gleaming white snow, an old man drove an ox cart, with a young couple sitting in the back.
Beneath the towering city walls, the gray-robed youth held his wife’s hand, gazing at the coming and going of merchants and travelers.
The first snow fell upon his clear, handsome brows, gently brushed away by his fingertips. He turned his head to look at his wife beside him, sweeping away the stray locks blown across the young woman’s cheek by the wind.
Their new year was about to arrive.