When the Bright Moon Shines on Zhaohe - Chapter 10
The past streamed before Pei Ye’s eyes like images in a revolving lantern. He felt as though he were dreaming a dream from long ago, and every part of it was Zhaohe.
She had been Aunt Yunqing’s daughter. Yunqing was the empress’s senior palace maid, beautiful and unfailingly gentle. The man she loved had marched off to war and never returned. By then she was secretly pregnant and could not bear to give up the child. Palace law was merciless. If the pregnancy came to light, she would die.
The empress had no choice but to enlist an imperial physician and feign a pregnancy. She claimed the child as her own. A little over eight months later, the empress “gave birth early.” Young Pei Ye suddenly had a little sister eight years his junior: Zhaohe.
As a child she was adorable, round as a ball and pale as a dumpling of white jade. Both the empress and Yunqing adored her. Even the emperor liked her. Pei Ye, however, found her terribly annoying. She whistled through the gap in her front teeth when she spoke, and she chased after him calling “Brother!” over and over.
That life did not last long. A little more than two years later, the empress died suddenly, and Yunqing’s health steadily declined. The once lively courtyard seemed to hold no one but Pei Ye. Oh, and the little girl who cried and made a fuss.
Before Yunqing died, she entrusted the child to him. The girl sobbed until she could hardly breathe, then threw herself at him and smeared her tears and snot all over his new robe. Pei Ye sighed. Fine. He would look after her for now. Little crybaby. Little nuisance. She had better behave. Once she grew up, he’d send her out of the palace and be done with her.
When Pei Ye was sixteen, his father became gravely ill and wanted to hand him the throne. Noble Consort Li resented it. She kept trying to win the succession for her son, Pei Xian. She stirred up trouble everywhere and unearthed the truth of Zhaohe’s birth.
The consorts joined in attacking the late empress’s reputation before Pei Ye’s father. In his fury and distress, the emperor coughed blood on the spot. Pei Ye was already frantic at his bedside when young Eunuch Hong rushed in with news that they’d seized the Ninth Princess and were carrying out their own punishment.
Pei Ye had never liked Zhaohe, but he couldn’t stand by while they killed her. He raced to the lotus pond and found a tiny body floating on the water, motionless. Terrified, he leaped in, pulled her out, and reached toward her nose with a trembling hand to check for breath.
Her eyes popped open.
“Pei Zhaohe! Are you mad? Is pretending to be dead your idea of a joke?” he demanded through clenched teeth.
She turned to look at him and seemed to need a moment to understand. But instead of throwing herself into his arms and crying, as she always had, she knelt neatly to one side, her voice shaking.
“P-please don’t be angry! I was wrong! I won’t do it again! Um, you go about your business. I’ll get out of your way. We never saw each other!”
With that bewildering speech, she gathered up her skirts and ran. Pei Ye sat beside the lotus pond in his dripping clothes, stunned and disheveled by the cold wind.
Soon afterward, he succeeded to the throne. He dealt with the vicious Noble Consort Li and sent Pei Xian out of the palace. Peace finally returned to the vast harem.
“Your Majesty, what about the Ninth Princess?” Hong asked.
Pei Ye frowned. “Have her move into remote Shaohua Residence. She’s only eight; I cannot betray Yunqing’s trust. But don’t treat her too well. This harem eats people alive. If they learn that I still care for her, it will only put her in danger.”
Hong bowed and went to carry out the order. In the splendor of Weiyang Palace, Pei Ye felt strangely alone. He remembered how desperately she’d avoided him that day and gave a cold little huff. Then, with a wave of his hand, he swept her from his thoughts.
Years rushed past. Pei Ye worked tirelessly to become a good emperor. He did not truly notice Zhaohe again until eight years later.
At a Lantern Festival banquet, the newly arrived consorts crowded around him, chattering without pause. As he grew irritated, he looked up and saw Zhaohe sitting in a corner. She had grown so much that she scarcely resembled the little girl he remembered. Her clothes were plain, without any finery, but her profile was lovely. Her round eyes blinked, giving her a meek and obedient air. For some reason, Pei Ye suspected it was an act.
He was right. In the next hour or so, she asked for three more servings of sweet cakes and five of fermented rice dumplings. She ate every last bite. Then she and the maid behind her slipped the jade and gold spoons, chopsticks, and small plates beneath their skirts and carried them off.
Pei Ye raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t improved at all. Still a little fox masquerading as a rabbit.
Later, Hong reported that life in Shaohua Residence was difficult. The servants flattered the powerful and bullied the weak, withholding part of the women’s monthly allowances. The Ninth Princess had never complained or quarreled with anyone. She endured it quietly. In private, though, she was resourceful. She sometimes slipped out of the palace to pawn a few ornaments or sell her maid’s embroidery. She’d saved a considerable sum over the years and even started a business outside. When he thought about it, perhaps she wasn’t doing so badly after all.
Pei Ye rubbed his fingers together, at a loss for words. He remembered a pampered child who couldn’t bear the slightest hardship. Yet she’d suffered all these years without ever coming to him in tears. She had quietly made her own way, as though drawing a line between herself and everyone in the palace.
She was clever. She knew how to protect herself. She understood that the farther she stayed from him, the safer she’d be.
Well, good. He’d never been fond of her anyway. He would let her be.
