Chapter 90

Chapter 90

Candlelight glowed brightly, casting a warm radiance that spread outward, bathing everything it touched in a beeswax-like sheen. The remaining spaces gradually receded into a soft, indistinct gloom.

Pei Yue stood, half-illuminated by the candlelight, half-shrouded in the shadow cast by the doorframe. His expression was utterly focused, his posture deeply sincere. Ming Tang, seated behind the desk, met his gaze, yet found herself hesitating.

From the very first day of their marriage, Cheng Yi Hall had opened itself almost entirely to her, becoming virtually her private domain—with the sole exception of the room behind this particular door.

Initially, Ming Tang had been curious, but it was merely a fleeting interest.

Now, the original master of this space was inviting her to step into this final, uncharted territory. How could Ming Tang fail to grasp the implications?

So, should she truly accept the invitation?

Pei Yue had spoken lightly, calling them "childhood mementos." But if they were truly just insignificant childhood items, why had they remained locked behind that door all this time?

The fleeting glimpse of a figure like a startled swan during the Dragon Boat Festival, his earnest words when their engagement was first settled, the myriad small moments after their marriage… all seemed to flash before her eyes. Ming Tang still wavered, yet she unconsciously rose from her chair, her fingertips lightly tapping the desk, the soft pads pressing until faint red marks appeared.

For once, Ming Tang’s mind went blank. Her stillness brought silence to the room, so profound that the quiet burning of the candle could almost be heard—a sound echoing her own flickering thoughts.

"Why?" After a long silence, this was all she could manage to ask.

Why bring this up now? Why declare his feelings at this moment?

Pei Yue simply said, "Because I wanted you to know."

Just because he wanted her to know.

Pei Yue had never interacted with other women, so he naturally had no idea what women in this world were like. Yet, he was grateful for that small misunderstanding that had led to his engagement with Ming Tang, and for the good fortune of becoming family with her.

He had gradually come to recognize his own feelings. He clearly saw Ming Tang’s hesitation but had no intention of forcing the issue. As he had just said, he simply felt, suddenly, that Ming Tang ought to know. They were destined to be husband and wife for life, to spend their days together, yet Pei Yue still felt it wasn't quite enough.

Since they had missed the chance before, sharing through words would have to suffice as comfort.

Another stretch of silence followed, as if time had been drawn out into a long, heavy thread. Finally, Ming Tang reached out and placed her hand over Pei Yue’s palm.

It wasn't their first time holding hands, yet both their hearts trembled. Meeting each other’s eyes, Pei Yue gently tightened his grip and led Ming Tang into this unfamiliar space.

Symmetry was highly valued in architecture of the time. As part of the main residence, this room was naturally the same size as their bedchamber. As the candlelight gradually dispelled the darkness, the objects within revealed themselves.

Contrary to Ming Tang’s expectations, there was only a low daybed inside, with a few storage chests piled in the corner, already coated in a thin layer of dust. What truly caught her attention were the longbows of varying sizes hanging on the wall, giving her a glimmer of understanding.

Sure enough, Pei Yue began to explain, "These were all made by my elder brother for me to practice archery. As the eldest son, he showed a natural talent for martial arts from a young age. But because of his somewhat unruly temperament, Grandfather was strict with him, never allowing him to indulge in such 'frivolous' pursuits, fearing it would corrupt his character."

Pointing at the items on the wall, Pei Yue smiled faintly. "But as you can see..."

The bows of different sizes hung plainly on the wall, proving that Pei Jun lived up to his reputation for being "unruly." Despite the family rules, he had somehow mastered the craft of bow-making. Ming Tang knew nothing of archery, so she couldn’t discern the styles of these longbows, but judging their craftsmanship was easy enough. In her opinion, even if Pei Jun had a talent for woodworking, the time he must have spent on them was no small matter.

"Your brother truly treated you very well," she couldn’t help but remark.

With the Pei family’s status, hiring the finest craftsmen in the land to make bows for their children from the most precious materials would have been effortless. But how could those compare to the ones painstakingly crafted by an elder brother’s own hands?

As they spoke, they examined each bow one by one, starting from the smallest. Pei Yue remembered the origins of each one clearly, recounting to Ming Tang at what age he had received them.

When they reached the last one, his voice softened slightly. He glanced at Ming Tang before continuing, "This one was given to me when I was sixteen. It was a two-dan bow my brother had captured in battle. Back then, I was full of youthful arrogance, thinking myself impressive for being able to draw such a bow. In my excitement, I didn’t even send word—I just took some guards and rode straight to Yulin to find him."

"It was winter. The Xiongnu had come south to conduct foraging raids. When my brother saw me suddenly appear, he wasn’t angry. Instead, he took me and a squad of cavalry to chase them down, saying he’d show me the world."

"This was the bow I used to kill my first man."

The way Ming Tang looked at the bow changed instantly.

She had known, of course, that Pei Yue had been to the frontier, and it was almost certain he had taken lives with his own hands. But she had never dwelled on it. Now, hearing him mention it so casually, though she had mentally prepared herself, she couldn’t remain entirely calm. A flurry of thoughts raced through her mind before she snapped back to the present and instinctively asked, "What happened then? Were you hurt?"

From Pei Yue’s description, though the skirmish had been small-scale—likely a guerrilla engagement—he had been a young man, eager to see his brother, only to be thrust into battle for the first time. It must have been hard to adjust.

Pei Yue shook his head, his smile deepening. "No."

Looking back now, the discomfort of that first kill had long since faded. In truth, because he had used a ranged weapon, the moment his arrow struck and the enemy fell, it hadn’t left him with particularly vivid memories.

What he could never forget was the scene upon returning to camp.

The bitter wind howled, the camp banners flapping wildly. After the battle, the soldiers sat around bonfires, drinking from large bowls. Pei Jun, who hadn't even removed his armor, listened as his personal guards praised Pei Yue’s performance that day. He laughed heartily, then clapped Pei Yue heavily on the shoulder. Without a word, he sat down among the soldiers and raised his bowl to drink with them.

It was Pei Jun’s reaction that finally made Pei Yue understand why his brother, who could have stayed in the capital, chose instead to remain stationed at the frontier.

Ming Tang, not having been there herself, could only rely on Pei Yue’s retelling. But she could easily discern the emotions underlying his words. Hesitantly, she asked, "You don’t seem to regret your brother being away so often?"

Recalling those moments, Pei Yue’s expression held relief and nostalgia—but no regret.

Pei Yue nodded. Glancing around the room, he led her to sit on the daybed and said softly, "You probably know a little about our family’s affairs."

Ming Tang nodded. Among the noble families of the capital, the Pei family’s main branch had always been small, with few internal conflicts. When she had decided to marry into the family, she couldn’t possibly have been completely ignorant of their history—though naturally, she wouldn’t know as much as Pei Yue.

Pei Yue seemed to have already decided to start from the beginning. Without asking what she knew, he continued quietly, "When Mother married into the Pei family, it was a union of equals—both families were aristocratic houses of equal standing, and Grandfather and Grandmother adored her. At first, they must have had a harmonious marriage like zither and harp. My brother was born during that time. Judging by how Mother treats A Ze, you can imagine how doting she was when she first became a mother. According to the family’s elders, the rest of the family doted on him ten times more."

So your family’s tradition of spoiling children runs deep... Ten times more? Ming Tang truly couldn’t imagine it.

Just the other day, Mrs. Pei had finally delivered on her promise to Pei Ze during the Bathing the Buddha Festival—a pouch of golden Buddha beans, pure gold and full weight. Pei Ze had been so excited to receive it that he nearly dropped it, then immediately started tossing the beans around to play. The wet nurses and maidservants around him had been on edge the entire time, terrified he might lose one or, worse, swallow one.

But starting the story this way, and knowing firsthand how strained Pei Yue’s relationship with the Duke of Dingguo was, Ming Tang’s long-suppressed curiosity surged anew. Surely the eldest son hadn’t been lavished with affection while the second was treated like an enemy?

Pei Yue, lost in memory, went on, "The good times didn’t last. When my brother was five, Father brought a woman home from outside the estate and became utterly infatuated with her. No matter how much Grandfather and Grandmother scolded him, he refused to change. When the woman became pregnant, the household descended into chaos. She even provoked Mother, who was also pregnant at the time."

"With the household in turmoil, Mother, already prone to overthinking during that period, lost the child—my second brother or sister. Maternal Grandmother had passed early, and Mother had always been strong-willed, unable to stand the slightest grievance. The first thing she did upon waking was gather her personal attendants, storm into his quarters, and have the woman—who knew she had crossed a line—dragged out and flogged to death."

Up to this point, these were all rumors long circulating in the capital. Ming Tang had heard them before and knew that because of this incident, Mrs. Pei had been privately criticized by some for being too prideful. But sitting beside Pei Yue now, she couldn’t help saying, "Mother was truly strong. But your brother... he must have been terribly confused back then."

If the woman had been pregnant, the situation couldn’t have been as simple as "storming in." Even the elder Duke and Duchess, who had reprimanded the Duke of Dingguo, probably wouldn’t have wanted Mrs. Pei to kill the woman outright—most likely, they would have preferred to wait until the child was born before deciding her fate. Yet Mrs. Pei, still grieving her lost child and possibly not fully recovered, had managed to push through the pressure and resolve the matter immediately. That she had then lived peacefully in Jinghua Hall for nearly two decades, steadily managing the Duke of Dingguo’s household—the more Ming Tang thought about it, the more she admired her.

As for Pei Jun, as the only child in what had once been a model family, to suddenly have his parents turn on each other in such a dramatic way... Even if he had been too young to remember much, it must have left its mark.

Pei Yue nodded. "Mother is truly extraordinary." Perhaps unsure how else to describe it, he kept his tone even as he added calmly, "After that day, Mother never shared a bed with him again. Later, when she had regained her health and wanted another child for company, she had him visit for a few days... and that’s how I came to be. As for my brother, having grown up in a harmonious household, he was different from me—he held a deep affection for Father. His decision to stay at the border garrison towns all these years was likely partly to avoid witnessing the state of the family."

"Had him visit for a few days..." Ming Tang finally understood something that had puzzled her: No wonder, given Mrs. Pei and the Duke of Dingguo’s relationship, they had managed to have a second child after that incident... So that’s how it happened.

Was this a peculiar form of "retaining the child while dismissing the father"?

Even in later eras, such a thing wouldn’t be common. That Mrs. Pei had done it over twenty years ago... No wonder Pei Yue’s tone had been so odd.

But... Ming Tang couldn’t help pressing, "How did you find out?" Logically, as a junior in the family, digging up old family history wouldn’t be too difficult. But when it came to the personal thoughts of those involved, that was another matter.

Surely Pei Yue hadn’t asked Nanny Lin? Having served Mrs. Pei for a lifetime, she might indeed know what Mrs. Pei had been thinking back then.

Pei Yue, who had been speaking smoothly all evening, suddenly faltered. After a long pause, he coughed lightly, somewhat embarrassed. "Back then, I was poking around the house, trying to find out what had happened. Of course, I couldn’t hide it from Mother... She called me in and told me herself."

Seven or eight years old—the age even dogs find annoying. Pei Yue at that age had been no exception. With the family atmosphere so strange, as a bright child, he had naturally formed his own ideas. Believing himself clever enough to evade the adults, he had quietly conducted his own little investigation, searching for clues every day.

But it was like trying to cheat right under the teacher’s nose. How could his inquiries about the past possibly escape the notice of Mrs. Pei, who managed the entire household?

After watching silently for a few days and seeing Pei Yue's genuine curiosity—as well as the many fragmented pieces of information he had gathered—Mrs. Pei noticed that the more he uncovered, the more his demeanor grew subdued. Without hesitation, she decided to have a frank conversation with him.

Once Pei Yue confirmed from those directly involved that his parents' relationship had long been irreparably broken, and that his father was, in his view, the more culpable party, he couldn’t help but question his very existence.

The calm, unapologetic tone Mrs. Pei used at the time remained vivid in Pei Yue’s memory to this day—

"Yue, it was because I wanted you that you came to be. That’s all you need to know."

Later, when the stunned Pei Yue gradually learned the realities of conception and recalled his mother’s words, his perspective shifted. The already faint image of his father in his heart grew even more indistinct.

Indeed, as Mrs. Pei had said—all he needed to know was that his mother had actively desired his birth. That was enough.

Perhaps sensing that even someone unconcerned with others' opinions like Ming Tang would be shocked upon first hearing such news, Pei Yue considerately fell silent for a moment, giving her ample time to process.

Ming Tang, too, was momentarily at a loss for words, her mind conjuring images of the commanding presence Mrs. Pei must have exuded back then. As she gradually emerged from her reverie, she understood: Given that the Duke of Dingguo and Mrs. Pei had already grown to despise each other by then, and that Pei Yue’s existence was the result of Mrs. Pei’s insistence on another child—his father’s current attitude toward him was only to be expected.

Given Pei Yue’s closeness to his mother, even if he had longed for a father's love as a child, learning the truth of those events—coupled with the Duke’s refusal to bridge the divide and the presence of an elder brother who filled that role—his cold, even indifferent, demeanor toward his father was only natural.

As for Pei Jun... He, too, had once been the darling of the family. But in the years when he was just old enough to remember, his family fell apart. Then, with the arrival of a brother more than a decade his junior, it was only understandable that he redoubled his devotion.

Ming Tang glanced around the room and asked softly, "Are all these things gifts from your elder brother?"

Pei Yue nodded. "Yes. This room was once where he corrected my behavior. Whenever I misbehaved, I’d be required to remain here alone for hours. After he died in battle, lest time erase them, I gathered all the items in Cheng Yi Hall connected to him and stored them here. Most are things I used as a child."

As he spoke, a nostalgic expression crossed his face. He rose and walked to a chest by the wall, lifting the lid and holding a candle close to illuminate its contents. Bending down, he retrieved a short riding whip no longer than his forearm and smiled. "I almost overlooked this. Earlier this year, I pledged Zhao Ye's foal to A Ze. Months have passed, and Zhao Ye must be close to giving birth. This whip was the one I used when I first learned to ride at his age—perfect for him."

Ming Tang admired the exquisite workmanship of the whip and couldn’t help asking, "Did your brother make this too? Truly, ‘an elder brother is like a father’—he thought of everything."

Pei Yue paused. "Not this one, but he supervised its creation, so it’s much the same." Suddenly, he twirled the whip deftly and chuckled. "Now that we’re here, I might as well confess—when I was young, I really did wonder why my brother couldn’t have been my father. Of course, now that I’m older, I know certain bonds can't be manufactured. Even if we share the same blood, that doesn’t guarantee familial bonds. Since there’s no connection between us—he doesn’t acknowledge me, and I don’t acknowledge him—there’s no need for me to pass on his lineage either."

His casual tone revealed an answer to a question Ming Tang had long wondered about, leaving her with mixed emotions. To reject even the blood inherited from his father, refusing to continue his lineage—in an era where ancestral continuity was paramount—was exceedingly rare.

Sensing the somber mood, Ming Tang deliberately lightened the atmosphere. She sidled toward the door and teased, "So that’s how it is. Yue, did you know? Back when the Pei family proposed despite my reputation for being ‘unlikely to bear children,’ I secretly suspected you might have certain... difficulties and were using me as cover!"

Pei Yue froze, never imagining he’d one day be suspected of such a thing—least of all by his own wife.

Perhaps it was a peculiar male pride, but despite his usual composure, Pei Yue was still a young man in his early twenties. Hearing this, he flushed with indignation and immediately moved to seize her—only to find her already slipping away lightly toward the outer chamber.

Though Ming Tang was no match for him in speed, she hadn’t even cleared the study before he caught her wrist. Trapped with one foot in the main hall and the other still in the study, she leaned against the doorframe and pleaded, "That was before I knew the truth! I’d never think that now!"

Their laughter dispelled the earlier heaviness, and soon they were swapping amusing youthful escapades.

Just as they reached the topic of childhood punishments, Wen He lifted the curtain and entered. Taking in their playful stance, she immediately halted and pretended to retreat.

Without a second thought, Ming Tang knew she had been sent by the other maids of Cheng Yi Hall to congratulate them on Ming Wan’s auspicious occasion. Letting her leave now would only fuel wild speculation, so Ming Tang waved her back. "What’s the rush? Where’s Zhe Liu? I don’t see her."

"Zhe Liu had business at the shop today and won’t be back," Wen He replied, seizing the chance to approach. She stole a glance at Pei Yue, who had wandered to the desk, then sidled up to Ming Tang with a mischievous grin. Just as she was about to tease, she suddenly coughed and exclaimed, "Young Miss, where have you been rolling? You’re coated in grime!"

Ming Tang: "..."

The room had been shut for over half a year—of course it was dusty! Though she hadn’t noticed earlier, now that it was pointed out, she couldn’t believe she’d been so oblivious.

After washing her hands in the bathing chamber, she casually instructed Wen He, "Find two reliable people tomorrow to thoroughly clean the room east of the study. Be careful not to disturb anything inside."

Wen He’s eyes lit up with delight, and she gasped, "I won! I won!"

The moment the words left her mouth, she noticed Ming Tang had stopped and was eyeing her meaningfully. Grinning broadly, she confessed, "We’ve all been curious about that room! Everyone knew it must be important, so we bet on when the Young Master would finally invite you inside. Zhe Liu said that given your temperament, even if he unlocked it, you wouldn’t go in unless it was during the autumn book-drying festival. But I argued that you and the Young Master are so harmonious now—closer than you ever were with your first husband—so it couldn’t possibly take that long. I figured you’d wander in on a whim sooner or later."

Sure enough, these two had managed to get covered in dust after just a short absence.

Wen He was already envisioning her ten-tael prize, but Ming Tang was momentarily stunned. She now realized she had unknowingly taken a step forward.

Otherwise, as Zhe Liu had predicted, she would have found some excuse to avoid entering today...

Was it truly a case of "it's hard to see clearly when you're in the middle of it"?

Ming Tang chuckled and flicked Wen He’s forehead, snapping her out of her daydream. "Hmph. Using me for your little wagers and then admitting it to my face? Don’t you know the rule—‘see a share, take a share’? Since you won this bet thanks to me, remember to split half your winnings into my coffer."

Wen He’s grin faltered. Watching her mistress stride away, she dragged out a resigned, "Fine—"

Truly, nothing could dampen her young mistress’s love of money.