Chapter 4: Threads of Affection

The first rays of dawn filtered through the paper windows of the servants’ quarters, illuminating the simple cotton bedding that replaced Li Xiao’s old straw mat. The soft folds of the quilt felt like a small luxury compared to the hard surface she had slept on when she first arrived. Yet sleep had been elusive: her mind replayed yesterday’s journey, the clash of steel, and the silent praise of Counselor Jin Tao.

Li Xiao rose quietly, smoothing the quilt before slipping out of the room. Sister Wu awaited her in the hallway, carrying a small bundle of linens.

“Good morning,” Li Xiao greeted, voice hushed.

“Morning, child,” Sister Wu replied. “I hear you returned late last night. The counselor allowed you extra rest.”

Li Xiao’s cheeks warmed. “I am grateful.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, unaware of a tiny white fiber clinging to the dark locks.

Sister Wu smiled. “Today you will accompany the counselor to the imperial archives. He requires assistance in cataloging rare scrolls.”

Li Xiao nodded. “At once.”

The corridor to the archives was cool and silent, lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves laden with leather-bound volumes and bamboo scrolls. Faint incense smoke curled in the air, lending the room a reverent hush. Jin Tao stood before a low table piled high with aged manuscripts, his expression as calm and unreadable as ever.

Li Xiao entered with a tray of fresh brushes, ink, and parchment. She knelt to set them down, careful not to disturb the neat piles. As she did, she felt a light touch at the back of her head.

“Li Xiao,” came Jin Tao’s soft voice.

She froze, hand hovering over a brush. “Counselor?”

He reached out and gently removed the small cotton fiber from her hair. His gloved finger brushed against her scalp for the briefest moment. Li Xiao’s breath caught, her dark eyes widening as she met his crimson gaze.

“There,” he said, placing the fiber on the table. “Better.”

Her cheeks burned. “Thank you, Counselor.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He inclined his head and returned to the scrolls. The moment passed, but Li Xiao’s heart fluttered long after.

They worked side by side for hours. Jin Tao unrolled each scroll, his gloved hands handling them with care. Li Xiao recorded titles, dates, and annotations in meticulous script. The archives smelled of aged paper, sandalwood, and ink. Outside, the midday sun shone brightly, but inside the air remained cool and still.

Around noon, Jin Tao paused over a particularly ancient scroll sealed with crimson wax. He glanced at Li Xiao. “This one requires special handling. It contains the emperor’s personal correspondence.”

Li Xiao’s eyes widened. “I will be extra careful.” She fetched a soft brush and worked slowly, gently clearing dust from the seal without disturbing the wax.

When she finished, Jin Tao studied her work and nodded approvingly. “Well done.”

A small thrill of pride warmed her chest. “Thank you.”

He offered her a rare, faint smile—so fleeting that Li Xiao wondered if she had imagined it.

Later that afternoon, Li Xiao was summoned to the counselor’s chambers. She found him standing by the balcony, gazing out at the palace gardens where cherry blossoms drifted in the breeze.

“Walk with me,” he said, and she followed.

They strolled in silence along the marble railing, the petals falling like soft rain around them. Li Xiao’s mind raced—what could he wish to discuss?

At last, Jin Tao spoke. “You have served me well these past weeks. I wish to reward your diligence.”

Li Xiao’s heart pounded. “Counselor, I—”

He raised a hand to forestall her. “Not with titles or gold. Tomorrow, you may take the day to visit the temple district. A respite for your efforts.”

She blinked, astonished. “You would grant me leave?”

He met her gaze steadily. “You earned it.”

Li Xiao bowed deeply. “Thank you, Counselor. I will not disappoint.”

He inclined his head and turned back toward the balcony. “Go now and rest.”

That evening, Li Xiao lay upon her cotton bedding, the weight of the counselor’s offer settling like a warm glow in her chest. A single candle flickered beside her, casting dancing shadows on the walls. She traced the jade hairpin he had allowed her to keep, remembering the governor’s gift.

Her thoughts drifted to the moment he had removed the fiber from her hair—so gentle, so personal. She pressed her fingers to the spot, recalling the warmth of his touch. She did not understand the sudden flutter in her heart, but she knew it was something new and fragile.

The next morning, Li Xiao slipped away from the eastern wing, following the cobbled streets toward the temple district. Merchants’ stalls lined the path: vendors sold lotus-shaped pastries, fragrant oils, and silk scarves. The scent of incense drifted from open temple doors, mingling with the chatter of worshippers.

She paused before a small shrine dedicated to the Goddess of Mercy. Hundreds of tiny paper lanterns swayed above, each inscribed with prayers for health, fortune, or love. Li Xiao knelt and lit a single candle, closing her eyes.

“Please watch over my father,” she whispered. “And guide me to serve honorably.”

A gentle breeze stirred the lanterns, and Li Xiao felt a quiet peace settle in her heart.

As she wandered deeper into the district, she encountered a group of children chasing a stray puppy. She smiled and knelt to pet the puppy’s soft fur. Its tail wagged furiously, and it licked her palm. Li Xiao laughed, her spirit light.

Suddenly, a shout rose from behind her. “Stop, thief!” A young temple attendant pointed at a man slipping away with a satchel.

Li Xiao’s instincts surged. She dashed after him, her sandals slapping the stone. The man darted through a narrow alley, but Li Xiao was determined. She lunged and caught the hem of his robe. The man stumbled, dropping the satchel. Inside lay offerings—jars of oil and rice—taken from the temple storeroom.

Temple attendants rushed forward. Li Xiao handed the satchel to them. The chief attendant bowed gratefully. “Thank you, miss. You saved the temple’s offerings.”

She shook her head. “I only did what was right.”

When she returned to the palace late that afternoon, her feet ached and her dress was smudged with dust. She entered the counselor’s wing, unsure of what to expect. The corridor was silent, the lanterns casting a warm glow.

At the study door, she paused. Inside, she heard the soft scrape of brush on paper. Gathering her courage, she entered.

Jin Tao looked up from his desk, inkstone at hand. He rose and stepped toward her, his expression calm.

“You returned,” he said.

Li Xiao bowed. “Yes, Counselor. I apologize for my lateness.”

He shook his head. “No apology needed. I hope you found the temple district refreshing.”

She managed a small smile. “It was… enlightening. I even helped recover offerings for the temple.”

His crimson eyes softened. “Your sense of justice serves you well.”

She felt a flush of pride. “Thank you.”

He nodded and turned back to his scrolls. “Rest now. Tomorrow, we resume our cataloging.”

Li Xiao inclined her head. “As you wish.”

That night, as Li Xiao lay beneath the cotton quilt, she thought of the counselor’s praise and the gentle breeze in the temple district. She drifted to sleep with a light heart, unaware that threads of affection were weaving themselves into her life—silent, delicate, and beautiful.

Outside, the palace walls stood bathed in moonlight, guardians of countless untold stories. Within those walls, Li Xiao’s own story continued to unfold—one quiet act at a time, one stolen moment of kindness, and one gentle touch that would forever bind her heart to the man with the crimson gaze.