Moonlit Reunion

Since her injuries hadn't fully healed, Wu Zhen spent more time in her cat form each day, as this allowed her to recover faster. Strangely enough, Wu Zhen used to be someone who couldn't stay idle—she had to find some amusing pastime daily, or else she'd grow bored. But ever since growing closer to Mei Zhuyu, she seemed to have been influenced by him and could now endure tranquility quite well.

No more galloping in the outskirts, no more sparring at the training grounds, no more cuju or polo matches—she even visited music halls and brothels far less frequently. During this period of recuperation, Wu Zhen spent most of her days in cat form, accompanying her husband at the Ministry of Justice, napping in his arms at noon. At night, she resumed her human form, resting her head on his lap to cool off before sleep, feeling utterly languid.

However, she didn’t always stay with Mei Zhuyu during the day. Occasionally, after sleeping enough, she would wander around various government offices.

Ever since petting cats became a trend, the number of felines within these red walls and green tiles had surged. Unlike stray wildcats, the sleek and well-fed ones were usually brought in by officials, many of whom had recently been secretly competing over whose cat was superior.

Wu Zhen even went to observe a group of idle officials holding a "cat beauty contest," which turned into a complete disaster—the cats nearly started fighting, and their owners almost came to blows as well.

Another place Wu Zhen frequented was the Censorate. The two cats belonging to Censor Liu were raised by his daughter, Liu Taizhen, and looked identical to Wu Zhen’s cat form. Since Censor Liu couldn’t tell the difference, Wu Zhen often pretended to be one of them.

Censor Liu would glare at her in human form, but as a cat, she could leap onto his head and strut around triumphantly. Wu Zhen took secret delight in this and visited often, seizing every chance to settle old scores—like suddenly jumping up and kicking him. Yet Censor Liu would only chuckle affectionately, looking so amiable it was as if he were a counterfeit version of himself.

At such times, Wu Zhen felt she had made an excellent choice years ago when she picked those two cats for her little snake friend—otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to take advantage of their identical appearances today.

Still, considering he was her good friend’s father, Wu Zhen didn’t dare go too far, afraid that if Liu Taizhen found out, she might beat her into a dead cat. So she only dropped by occasionally, perching on his shoulders or head before delivering a light, playful kick. Far from being annoyed, Censor Liu would proudly boast to others about how affectionate his cat was.

After Wu Zhen started visiting the Censorate frequently, Mei Zhuyu would wait at its entrance if she hadn’t returned by the time he finished work. The first time Censor Liu noticed something amiss was when he saw three identical cats appear simultaneously. Watching Mei Zhuyu scrutinize them carefully before solemnly picking up one of them, Censor Liu felt deeply unsettled.

Censor Liu: "Is this your cat?"

Mei Zhuyu was still examining the cat in his arms, certain he had the right one, and nodded. "Yes."

Censor Liu cast a suspicious glance at the innocent, well-behaved tabby cat in Mei Zhuyu’s embrace and suddenly felt a strong suspicion that he had been taken advantage of all this time—though the thought seemed to come out of nowhere.On the way back with the cat in his arms, Mei Zhuyu kept talking, but the cat in his embrace remained silent, as if it couldn't understand him. Mei Zhuyu's discernment had greatly improved these days—far better than before. Out of ten attempts, he could accurately identify his wife nine times. Yet even when he was right, Wu Zhen would deliberately tease him, pretending to be an ordinary cat. Once, Mei Zhuyu brought her home, and by midnight, she still hadn't transformed back. Thinking he had indeed made a mistake, he nearly carried her out in the middle of the night to break into the Liu family's residence, which made Wu Zhen laugh for hours.

Having been fooled by his wife several times, Mei Zhuyu didn’t dare jump to conclusions now. He lifted the cat and stared into her round eyes for a long, long time. Finally, Wu Zhen couldn’t hold back any longer. She pressed a paw against his forehead and said with a grin, "You got it right again today!"

Only then did Mei Zhuyu let out a sigh of relief.

Taoist Priest Shuangjiang had left Chang’an a few days prior. Thanks to Wu Zhen’s intervention, the young priest hadn’t been skinned alive by his still-vigorous junior uncle. Before leaving, Wu Zhen overheard him muttering to himself about informing his senior brothers, junior brothers, master, and uncles about the junior uncle’s marriage. His tone carried a hint of anticipation—as if he were thinking, "If I must die, let my fellow disciples share my fate."

Wu Zhen mused to herself, Could it be that in a few days, the priests of Changxi Temple will gather in Chang’an City?

Summer was now in full swing. In previous years, Wu Zhen would have been searching for cool retreats to escape the heat, but this year, she endured it without complaint, staying peacefully in Mei Zhuyu’s residence. Unconsciously, she had begun spending nearly every day there, rarely returning to Duke Yu’s estate.

When Mei Si, Cui Jiu, and the others came looking for her to go out and have fun, they often couldn’t find her at Duke Yu’s place. Gradually, they grew accustomed to seeking her out at Mei Zhuyu’s instead. However, Wu Zhen was still recovering from her injuries and spent most of her days accompanying Mei Zhuyu to his duties, so Cui Jiu and the others seldom managed to catch her. As a result, whenever they did finally run into her, the young men and women would whine with such resentment that Wu Zhen felt like a heartless scoundrel.

On this particular day, Wu Zhen finally went out with Cui Jiu and the others instead of accompanying Mei Zhuyu to work. Mei Zhuyu felt an unusual emptiness in his arms and found it hard to adjust. Throughout the morning, he set down his brush dozens of times and glanced repeatedly at the paulownia tree outside the window, but Wu Zhen’s feline figure never appeared. By noon, two yokai arrived carrying a food box—a pair of trembling mouse spirits who, upon catching a whiff of Wu Zhen’s lingering aura, hastily delivered the meal and scurried away.

Though the food was as sumptuous as ever, Mei Zhuyu found it flavorless. He held his bowl for a moment before sighing softly and setting it down.

Wu Zhen didn’t show up all day, nor did she return that night. Mei Zhuyu waited for her to eat, lingering until the evening drum signaled the closing of the city gates and darkness fully descended. Only then did he reluctantly eat a simple meal by himself. In truth, Wu Zhen had already told him she wouldn’t be back today, but he had waited anyway.

The lamp flame burned quietly, emitting soft crackles. A cool breeze drifted into the room through the open window, causing the mosquito-repelling sachet hanging from the frame to sway gently.

The absence of just one person made the room feel unbearably empty and silent.

When Wu Zhen was around, even if they weren’t being affectionate, they still stayed up late because she was a night owl, and Mei Zhuyu’s rest schedule had adjusted accordingly.

Compared to usual, it was still early, but with Wu Zhen gone, Mei Zhuyu sat alone for a while, enjoying the breeze and reading a scroll before washing up and going to bed.In the middle of the night, Mei Zhuyu suddenly woke with a start. His sharp ears caught the faint sound from the window, and he silently sat up. The next moment, a figure leaped in through the window. Of course, it wasn’t some petty thief—it was Wu Zhen, climbing in as usual.

Holding a small jar in her hand, she landed lightly in the room without making a sound. Seeing Mei Zhuyu sitting up in bed, she chuckled softly and stopped trying to be quiet. Rubbing her nose, she said, “Did I wake you?”

Mei Zhuyu got up and lit the lamp, his voice calm but tinged with concern. “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t be back tonight? Why the sudden return?”

Wu Zhen gave an offhand “Oh” and replied casually, “Originally, I wasn’t planning to come back. I spent the day with Cui Jiu and the others, and we were going to stay at Huzhu’s place for the night. But I couldn’t sleep, and I caught something interesting, so I thought I’d bring it back to show you. That’s why I’m here.”

Mei Zhuyu watched as she bent her head to untie the string around the jar, his gaze unconsciously softening with warmth and delight.

Wu Zhen absentmindedly put the untied string between her teeth as she peeled back the red paper covering the jar. When she looked up and met Mei Zhuyu’s quiet, tender gaze, she froze for a moment. Suddenly, she spat out the string with a “Pah!” and, still holding the jar, strode over to Mei Zhuyu in two steps. Grabbing his collar, she pulled him down and planted a kiss on his cheek.

For some reason, moved by impulse, she made a promise: “From now on, if nothing’s going on, I’ll always come home to sleep at night.”

Mei Zhuyu had never expected her to say such a thing. Seeing the brightness in her eyes under the lamplight, the shimmering glow dancing within them, he couldn’t help but pull her into an embrace. After a long moment, he finally managed to murmur, “Are you tired? Let’s rest.”

“Wait, I want to show you something first.” Wu Zhen tugged him along to the study, separated from the bedroom by only a folding screen.

The study had a white wall where, when the doors and windows were open, the shadows of trees from the courtyard outside would be cast. On sunny days, the ripples from the small pond outside would also shimmer across the wall. Now, Wu Zhen led Mei Zhuyu to face the white wall, kicked the bamboo mat on the daybed to the floor, and pressed him down to sit on it.

Mei Zhuyu obediently sat on the mat and watched her. Wu Zhen, with an air of mystery, peeled back the paper covering the jar and pinched out a slippery, translucent “slice” from inside.

“Look.” She flicked the quivering “slice” onto the white wall, where it stuck with a soft “plop” before slowly melting into the surface. Moments later, not a trace remained. At the same time, a small shadow suddenly appeared on the wall—a butterfly, fluttering gracefully back and forth, its movements light and beautiful. It looked as though a real butterfly outside the window was being illuminated by moonlight, its shadow cast onto the wall.

Wu Zhen pinched out another similar “slice” from the jar and tossed it onto the wall. This time, the shadow of a sparrow appeared—lively and vivid. Though just a shadow, it seemed as if one could almost hear its cheerful chirping.At this point, Mei Zhuyu had already guessed what it was. Wu Zhen continued pulling out those translucent flakes from the jar while explaining to him, "This is a type of Monster harmless to ordinary people, called Shadow Bugs. They come in all sorts of forms, transforming into various shadows—human shadows, animal shadows, even the shadows of flowers, plants, and trees. These things hide well and are incredibly hard to catch."

Since they only appear at night, morph into different shadows, blend into their surroundings, and emit no unusual aura, they are extremely difficult to detect.

Wu Zhen was quite pleased with herself for catching this jarful. She casually tossed out two more flakes—one transformed into a cluster of bamboo, casting a bamboo shadow in the corner of the white wall, while the other turned into a peony shadow, landing on the opposite side. The earlier bird perched on the bamboo shadow, and the butterfly alighted on the flower.

As Mei Zhuyu watched Wu Zhen enthusiastically pulling more flakes from the jar and flicking them onto the wall, the once-blank surface gradually filled with various shadows, growing livelier by the moment. He suddenly thought that his wife resembled a little girl catching fireflies in the middle of the night.

Just then, Wu Zhen clapped her hands in triumph, twirling the now-empty jar with pride. "See? How about that, isn't it fun~" Her tone was as if she were coaxing a child, oblivious to the fact that her own behavior was far more childlike.