When the Bright Moon Shines on Zhaohe - Chapter 11

Strangely, after that, Pei Ye seemed to notice Zhaohe everywhere. He saw her at palace banquets and crossed paths with her in the rear garden. Sometimes, when he walked beside the palace wall, he’d spot her just climbing back through the dog hole. Whenever they met, she pretended not to see him. She lowered her eyes and walked on without a backward glance.

Pei Ye gritted his teeth. How had the little crybaby who used to cling to him grown so heartless? Hmph. An ungrateful little thing. Still, he could endure it. He made no move to look after her. He wanted to see just how heartless she could be.

Then, a few months ago, on a bright winter afternoon, Hong reported that the Ninth Princess requested an audience. Pei Ye raised an eyebrow. An inexplicable surge of pleasure rose in his chest. When he looked up, she was standing before him, smiling more brightly than the sunlight beyond the window.

“Imperial Brother, I’ll be eighteen this year. Can we finally put my residence outside the palace on the schedule?”

Just look at her impatience. Anyone would think he’d spent years mistreating her. Did it never occur to that little head of hers that she couldn’t have used a dog hole half as tall as a person for so long without his permission?

He tossed down his memorial and regarded her with sleepy eyes. “Move out of the palace? How large a residence does the princess want? I don’t have that much silver. If I recall, your birthday is in the seventh month. We can discuss it later. Why rush? Hong, the princess is leaving. See her out.”

That proved an effective way to keep her coming back. Afterward, Zhaohe often visited Weiyang Palace to flatter him. She spoke more to him in that one month than she had in the previous ten years combined. Pei Ye rubbed his forehead with a rueful smile.

Each day he dreaded her arrival a little and feared she would not come. She made so much noise while she was there, and everything felt too quiet once she’d gone. Weiyang Palace had been lonely for too long. Sometimes he wondered whether, after she really left, she would ever come back.

Enough. Everyone was entitled to be sentimental once in a while, but he ought not look too closely at the feeling.

Then Noble Consort Wan gave him a push. A young maid from Shaohua Residence rushed in to say the Ninth Princess had eaten a poisoned cake and needed help. Pei Ye looked at the cake on his desk, which had just tested positive for arsenic, and understood at once. Alarmed, he grabbed an antidote and hurried to her residence.

On the way, he considered teasing her a little or using the chance to keep her close. He never got the opportunity. Beneath the bright moon, she lay curled in the brocade quilt and looked at him through tear bright eyes. She threw herself into his arms, made soft, breathless sounds, and nestled against his ear to call him “Brother.”

Brother.

Heaven knew what collapsed inside his mind at that moment. At last he understood what his recent concern for her really meant. It was wrong. It should never have happened. But what could he do? It was too late.

Like blossoms glimpsed through mist, like moonlight breaking through cloud, a hidden feeling had stirred early. Spring had returned, beckoned by a red sleeve.

Once desire existed, it was hard to erase. He knew this was a mistake. He knew she was the most dangerous little fox of all. Yet she was so sweet, so soft, so warm. Holding her in his arms, he tasted a pleasure he could not forget. After that, his thoughts were a muddle of Zhaohe.

The least honorable thing Pei Ye had done in his twenty six years was to cling to her shamelessly, coaxing and tricking her into staying beside him. He could see little affection for him in her eyes. She loved her silver and herself. Only when he pleased her in bed would she smile at him and say anything he wanted to hear.

He still could not give up. He thought that, one day, his warmth would reach her. She wasn’t made of stone. She would turn back and hold him again.

When he went to see her through the night rain and found her wearing herself out on his behalf, he had been overjoyed. He almost asked her: *Zhaohe, will you come back to the palace with me? Will you stay at my side for the rest of our lives?*

But however many times he opened his mouth, he couldn’t say it. He feared she’d refuse. He feared letting himself hope for nothing. Weiyang Palace was so cold. He feared losing the last of his hope.

As it turned out, he’d been right not to ask. The next time he visited, he overheard her conversation with that handsome scholar. She had never loved him. From beginning to end, he had imagined it all. The pain was almost unbearable. That was why he had taken her one last time with such fierce desperation. It was cruel of him. He wanted her to regret it; wanted her, whoever she might be with in the future, to remember what had happened between them that last time.

He had loved her once. If she hated him in return, perhaps that made them even.

Pei Zhaohe. We’re even.