Chapter 1: A New Beginning

The first light of dawn had not yet touched the palace rooftops when Li Xiao stepped through the grand gates of Liángzhōu’s eastern wing. She paused, drawing in a steady breath of cool morning air. The marble pillars rose on either side like silent sentinels, and beyond them stretched a labyrinth of corridors she would soon learn by heart.

She clutched her cleaning cloth and wooden bucket—her only companions in this vast, unfamiliar world. At eighteen, she had never imagined leaving her mountain village, but her adoptive father’s failing health left her no choice. The imperial palace, with its whispered secrets and rigid hierarchy, was her new home.

A soft voice called from behind. “Li Xiao, over here.” Sister Wu, a veteran maid with silver-streaked hair, beckoned her forward.

Li Xiao bowed. “Good morning, Sister Wu.”

“Today you join the staff assigned to Counselor Jin Tao’s quarters,” Sister Wu explained, handing her a small list of tasks. “You’ll sweep the outer hallways first, then polish the carved screens. Understood?”

Li Xiao nodded. “Yes, Sister Wu.”

Sister Wu studied her for a moment, then placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Remember, he does not suffer mistakes lightly. Keep your focus.” With that, the older maid moved on, leaving Li Xiao’s heart fluttering with equal parts excitement and apprehension.

By mid-morning, Li Xiao’s arms ached from sweeping, and her fingers pricked from polishing the ornate wooden screens. She knelt to wipe the last smear of dust from the carved dragon’s eye when a sudden gust of wind sent a loose scroll fluttering toward her.

Instinctively, she reached out—and collided with a figure stepping through the corridor’s archway.

“I—” she began, but her words died as she looked up.

The man before her wore the deep blue robes of a court counselor. His hair, pale as frost, framed a face so still it seemed carved from jade. He paused, regarding her with red‑rimmed eyes that glowed softly in the filtered light.

“Mind where you’re going,” he said, voice low and even.

Li Xiao’s cheeks warmed. “I’m so sorry, Counselor. I didn’t see you there.” She bowed deeply, clutching the scroll to her chest.

He said nothing further, merely lifted one gloved hand to steady a loose lock of his hair, then turned on his heel and walked away. The hush of the corridor swallowed his retreating footsteps.

That afternoon, word spread through the servant quarters that Li Xiao would permanently serve in the counselor’s wing. Some of the higher‑ranking maids, particularly those assigned to the imperial consorts, glanced at her with thinly veiled disdain.

“Lucky you,” whispered one, her voice oily. “He never allows anyone near him for long.”

Li Xiao offered a polite nod, her resolve hardening. She did not seek favor—only the chance to earn her keep and care for her ailing father from afar.

Days passed in a rhythm of work and quiet observation. Li Xiao learned the corridors’ twists and turns, the hush that fell when the counselor’s footsteps neared, and the ritual of clearing each room with precision. She noticed how he never raised his voice, how his gaze remained distant, as though he measured the world from behind an invisible barrier.

One evening, as she polished the final screen of the day, a soft rustle came from the adjacent training hall. Curious, Li Xiao peeked through a narrow lattice window.

Inside, the counselor stood alone on a wooden platform, practicing sword forms with fluid, precise movements. His robes were cast aside, revealing a dark tunic and trousers that clung to a frame both lean and strong—muscles honed by discipline, neither bulky nor gaunt, but poised like coiled silk.

Li Xiao’s breath caught. She blinked and stepped back, the sight stirring an unfamiliar warmth in her chest. She shook her head, chastising herself. “Focus, Li Xiao,” she whispered, and returned to her polishing.

That night, as lanterns glowed like fireflies along the palace walls, Li Xiao lay on her straw mat, replaying the day’s moments in her mind. The collision in the corridor, the hush of his departure, the silent grace of his swordplay—each memory felt like a stone dropped in still water, sending ripples through her thoughts.

She closed her eyes and made a silent vow: she would master her duties, honor her family’s name, and face whatever challenges the palace held.

And though she did not know it yet, her world—and her heart—were poised to change in ways she could never have imagined.