Chapter 47: In the Depths of Sorrow, Joy Is Heard

At night, the Creek Garden was steeped in a profound, slightly mournful silence. The westward moon hung in the sky like a disk of ice, its cold, silvery light pouring soundlessly over the rooftops, rendering the pavilions and towers beneath its glow even more desolate.

Inside the Watching Clouds Pavilion, the lamps blazed brightly. Though the hour had long passed midnight, Shen Yanxi remained awake. Draped in a thin cloak, she sat atop the couch, her brush poised over the paper spread on the desk, writing and sketching. Her slender figure, illuminated by the flickering candlelight, appeared lonelier than ever.

“Miss, these are freshly picked bayberries, so sweet and juicy—won’t you at least try one?” Across the desk, nursemaid Yuan Hui chattered on, hoping to coax her.

Shen Yanxi, absorbed in her writing, seemed not to hear. Yuan Hui’s heart ached as she watched her young mistress, whom she had raised since childhood, now so frail and distressed. The maids attending nearby wiped their eyes repeatedly.

Since yesterday, their mistress had barely spoken. She had lain in bed for a while, but by evening, she rose and came to the couch, grinding ink and writing ceaselessly. She wrote much, discarded much—never satisfied, always persisting. No one could persuade her otherwise.

At that moment, Lu Jin—now trapped within a bandit’s lair—could never have guessed Shen Yanxi’s current state.

To his mind, their bond was not so deep; he would not suspect that his departure could cause Shen Yanxi such unbearable grief. But he forgot—this was a different time. One marriage contract meant a lifetime.

Though their daily life was not that of a typical couple, the marriage deed and Lu Jin’s emerging brilliance had left Shen Yanxi unable to let go. If not for their mutual reticence, whether willing or not, they were, in truth, husband and wife.

The paper before Shen Yanxi was filled with words—lines from Lu Jin’s recent poems, or things he had said. It was not only longing, but also a wound she could not let go of.

Memories flickered ceaselessly through her mind: her husband had left, departing without hesitation after leaving a letter of farewell. He abandoned her.

As she wrote and remembered, tears spilled from her eyes like pearls, falling onto the pristine paper and the black inked words. What was once beautiful became blurred and bleak in an instant, just like her life.

She was the proud daughter of the Shen family, raised amid the praises of elders since childhood, dazzling the world. She had believed her future would be grander, but fate played trick after trick.

Sometimes, she resented the heavens—why treat her so harshly? Barely past her coming-of-age, she caught the emperor’s eye. After much effort to bring Lu Jin to her side, the emperor died just after their marriage.

She had just begun to feel some affection for Lu Jin, when he fled, and now his fate was unknown.

Where had she erred to deserve this?

So Shen Yanxi wrote and reread, again and again, searching for her faults, trying to understand why he felt no attachment to her.

Lu Jin’s transformation before and after the wedding perplexed her. At first, he seemed eager for power, entranced by beauty, his gaze too ardent. Now that his talents shone, he chose to distance himself. How much better if he were still that passionate.

Was it because she neglected him at the beginning? Or because he knelt in the rain, suffering humiliation? Shen Yanxi knew both were true—he had reason to resent the Shen family, and her. But was there more?

Did she fail to understand him? “On a high mountain, a solitary melody; by flowing water, one who hears and knows my heart. Where is a kindred spirit to be found? Few in the world truly listen.” Shen Yanxi stared quietly at these words, lost in thought.

“Yanxi, there’s news of Lu Jin!”

Just as Shen Yanxi’s mind wandered, Pei Yunrui burst in, breathless and ignoring the maids’ attempts to stop him.

“Cousin, you—” Siqi began to scold Pei Yunrui, but upon hearing his words, she froze, then rejoiced.

Light sprang to Shen Yanxi’s eyes. She set aside her brush and turned to Pei Yunrui.

“Yanxi, Lu Jin is alive, and he’s safe.” Pei Yunrui took a seat.

“Miss, stay calm. Just listen to what the young master has to say,” Yuan Hui hurried to comfort Shen Yanxi.

“We were searching Yunmeng Marsh today, and unexpectedly encountered a water bandit bringing a message with Bai. We brought him straight back,” Pei Yunrui explained, barely pausing for breath.

“He… is he… well?” Shen Yanxi managed to open her lips, voice trembling.

Yuan Hui wept with joy to hear her mistress speak at last. Finally, she was recovering.

“He’s all right, just suffered a bit. Don’t worry.”

Hearing that Lu Jin had endured hardship, tears streamed down Shen Yanxi’s cheeks. If not for the grievances he suffered at home, how could he have fallen into such misfortune?

A scholar, how could he bear such trials? Was he hungry, injured?

Yuan Hui cast a reproachful glance at Pei Yunrui—why tell her such things?

Pei Yunrui smiled awkwardly and continued, “Now, thanks to the bandit, we know where their lair is. Second Uncle is gathering men; we’ll set out soon. Rest assured, we’ll rescue him.”

“Help me up,” Shen Yanxi said softly, wiping her tears.

“Yanxi, you stay put. With Second Uncle and us, I only came to tell you so you could rest easy,” Pei Yunrui pleaded, rising from his chair in alarm.

“Miss, listen to Young Master. Now that there’s news of the groom, you must take care and wait for him to return,” Yuan Hui urged.

“I’ll see you out, Young Master,” said Siqi.

“Huh?” Pei Yunrui hesitated, but seeing Siqi’s resolute gaze, he could only walk sheepishly toward the door.

“Yanxi, don’t worry. Just wait for us to bring him home,” Pei Yunrui called as he left.

“Young Master was quite forward today,” Siqi said when seeing Pei Yunrui out of the Watching Clouds Pavilion.

“I know. I just wanted Yanxi to recover,” Pei Yunrui replied awkwardly. He shouldn’t have barged into the ladies’ quarters, but his only thought was to deliver the news quickly.

“We all know you meant well, Young Master. No need to blame yourself,” Siqi said gently, bowing slightly.

When Siqi returned upstairs, she saw the mistress already standing with Yuan Hui’s support.

“Miss, you—” Siqi rushed forward.

“She insisted on getting up. Nothing can stop her,” Sikqin said, troubled.

“Help me wash and dress. I am going to rescue him,” Shen Yanxi said, struggling but resolute.

No matter how the servants pleaded, Shen Yanxi would not listen. Helpless, they could only busy themselves.

She forced herself to eat a little, and with the maids' assistance, dressed neatly.

Shen Yanxi was not truly frail; her illness these days was of the heart. Now that hope had returned, she found strength to act.

“Yanxi, what are you doing?” Zhou Manyun, arriving in haste, asked anxiously upon seeing Shen Yanxi fully dressed.

“Miss is determined to rescue the groom herself,” a maid explained.

Zhou Manyun naturally objected, but could not sway Shen Yanxi.

With news of Lu Jin, people from every corner of the Shen estate came to see Shen Yanxi. Ordinarily, even if they wished to stay, the old lady would not permit it.

“Mother, Yanxi insists on going to fetch that boy herself. What should we do?” Zhou Manyun cried as the old lady arrived.

“That boy, that boy—he’s your son-in-law,” the old lady snapped.

“But Yanxi is so weak now, a gust of wind could knock her over—how can she go to Yunmeng Marsh in the dead of night?”

The old lady sat by the couch, watching as Shen Yanxi, with the maids’ help, applied rouge to her lips, covering her pallor.

“Let her go,” the old lady sighed.

“But—” Zhou Manyun was flustered, expecting her mother-in-law to stop Yanxi, only to find her agreeing.

“There are so many servants to look after her, and Yun’er will accompany her,” the old lady said, turning to Shen Yunyun.

“Yes, Grandmother,” Shen Yunyun promptly replied.

“Then I’ll go too,” Zhou Manyun said urgently.

“You’ll only be a hindrance,” the old lady declared, settling the matter at once.

Zhou Manyun’s face froze—how was she a hindrance?

“The winds at Yunmeng Marsh are strong and the nights cold. Pack plenty of warm clothes. Take good care of Yanxi—if anything happens, you’ll answer to me.”

The servants hastened to promise.

As for safety, the old lady had no worries—apart from Shen family’s thousands of soldiers, there were also the troops of Jiangzhou. How could they fail to protect a single young woman?

With the power of the army, the petty water bandits would be crushed like dust.