Moonlight Startles the Magpies - Chapter 1

The day Pei Huaichuan returned to the capital with his victorious army happened to mark a full year of widowhood for me.

In other words, it was the first anniversary of his father’s death.

He rode a tall horse, dressed in purple robes and a gold belt.

When those bright eyes beneath his straight brows turned toward me, his gaze felt like a cold wind sweeping through late autumn.

There was no trace of the forlorn boy he had once been.

Carefully pitching my voice, I wiped away a few tears and offered some words of comfort.

He merely nodded. Without even removing his armor, he casually lit a stick of incense for the late prince.

You would have thought it was my father who had died, rather than his.

Still, he treated me with a fair amount of respect, never missing a morning or evening visit to pay his respects.

He even simmered the tonics and medicinal herbs the emperor had bestowed on him and brought them to my room himself.

But ever since his return, I had been feeling increasingly strange.

First, I began sleeping more heavily. The body clock I had developed over the years seemed to have stopped working. These days, Xiaotao could call several times without waking me.

Then mysterious red marks began appearing on my skin.

As she combed my hair, Xiaotao complained,

“It’s already autumn. How can the mosquitoes still be so vicious?

“Poor mistress. Such a lovely body, and even the mosquitoes won’t leave it alone.”

I gave a drowsy murmur, barely able to lift my eyelids.

It wasn’t just the mosquitoes.

Perhaps the cold weather was making me lazy, but lately my arms had felt heavy and sore, and my whole body weak and limp.

Come to think of it, this had been going on for more than half a month.

…Half a month?

Wasn’t that exactly how long Pei Huaichuan had been home?

My eyes slowly widened.

The timing fit. These symptoms really did seem to have begun after his return.

That evening, Pei Huaichuan brought a bowl of bird’s nest soup to Qinghe Pavilion, as deferential as ever.

But once you begin to suspect someone, you see them quite differently.

Look at him bowing to offer me that little blue-and-white bowl, all twining floral patterns. So obsequious!

Even his eternally impassive face seemed to be suppressing something.

I pretended I had no appetite and poured the soup away after he left.

Honestly. All I wanted was to be a rich, pampered widow. I had no desire to end up beside his father in the ancestral shrine.

I went to bed early that night, ready to catch him in the act.

By nearly midnight, I was sleeping soundly. Traps, suspects—I’d forgotten the lot.

Then a chill touched my calf as someone gently lifted the quilt.

I woke at once, keeping my eyes shut and forcing myself to remain calm.

At a rustling sound, I opened my eyes a sliver. In the darkness, I saw him slowly unfasten his belt and toss his outer robe to the floor.

The mattress dipped. He sat on the edge of the bed, lifted a corner of my quilt, and lay down beneath it.

I was so nervous my hands almost shook. My body went rigid, and I dared not move.

Could someone—anyone—tell me what was wrong with the world?

My darling son was lusting after his father’s lawful wife?

Pei Huaichuan rolled onto his side, propped himself up, and leaned closer.

When he was a handspan away, I could bear it no longer. I scrambled upright.

Even now, I clung to one last hope. “Huai—Huaichuan… Have you come to see your mother so late because you’re sleepwalking?”

“You’re awake?”

The air seemed to freeze. He paused, then drew back a little.

“Well, my apologies. If I’ve come here in the dead of night, you can hardly call my intentions innocent.”

I clutched the quilt, my face bloodless, and scolded him in a fierce whisper.

“Pei Huaichuan! What are you doing? I’m your mother!”

“Mother? Don’t you know what I want?”

He tilted his head and gave a low, unreadable chuckle.

Every hair on my body stood on end. The child I had raised had somehow grown so tall and powerful that one of his broad arms could encircle my entire body.

Our positions had completely reversed. He knelt before me, yet he was like a young wolf on an iron chain. I knew he would not hurt me, but I couldn’t help being afraid.

“This is a monstrous breach of every moral law! Do you realize you could lose your head for it?”

He had fought desperately for seven years, without even coming home when his father died. With such a promising career ahead of him, was he really going to throw it all away?

I softened my voice. “You’re still young. There are so many things you haven’t thought through. Don’t do anything foolish…”

Pei Huaichuan smiled, unconcerned.

“Mother, if I hadn’t been afraid of frightening you, I would have done this long ago. It isn’t that I haven’t thought it through. I’ve thought it through all too clearly.”

“Your Highness—is something wrong?”

Xiaotao asked softly from outside. I hastily covered Pei Huaichuan’s mouth and made some excuse.

The wretch licked my palm.

As soon as I heard Xiaotao leave, I slapped him.

The sharp crack stopped him short.

I snatched my hand back, my expression stiffening.

His eyes darkened by degrees. Like a wolf, like a tiger, he stared at me with a dangerous gleam.

Fear shot through me. I edged sideways, and he pushed me flat against the bed.

“Mother…”

His nose brushed my cheek, nuzzling lightly. His breath was as soft and light as the padded coat I had made him that year, yet it fell burning hot against my ear.

“Father’s gone. Won’t you look at me?”

I was trembling from head to foot.

In the dark, his gaze was as thick as fog that refused to clear.

There was desire, love, madness, restraint—everything except respect for his stepmother.

I froze.

After seven years apart, he had almost become someone I no longer recognized.

When I first married into the prince’s household, he had been a boy shorter than me.

The servants, quick to see which way the wind was blowing, had dragged him into the hall to kowtow to me.

He had refused, his eyes as fierce as a wolf’s.

I knew that expression all too well.

I had worn it myself, standing in front of my mother’s body, refusing to let anyone take her away.