Chapter 6: Under the Counselor’s Wing

The morning air in the eastern wing carried the scent of jasmine and polished wood. Li Xiao paused at her door, the jade hairpin glinting where she had secured her dark hair. Its cool weight reminded her of the counselor’s trust—an honor she would not betray.

She stepped into the corridor, bucket and cloths in hand, and made her way to the counselor’s chambers. As she approached, she heard hushed laughter echoing from the alcove outside his study. Her heart sank; she recognized the voices of Xiao Lan and Mei Feng, the consorts’ maids who had taunted her before.

Li Xiao hesitated, then squared her shoulders. She would not cower.

She entered the alcove, where Xiao Lan leaned against the carved railing, fan in hand. Mei Feng smirked as Li Xiao knelt to retrieve her cleaning cloth.

“Good morning,” Li Xiao said quietly, focusing on her task.

Xiao Lan stepped forward, her voice silk laced with venom. “Counselor Jin Tao has a new favorite, it seems. A village girl who thinks herself fit for palace intrigue.”

Mei Feng chuckled. “Tell me, Li Xiao, does the jade hairpin match your simple tunic? Or did he give it so you’d remember your place?”

Li Xiao’s fingers stilled on the cloth. A wave of anger washed through her, but she drew in a steady breath. She would not rise to their bait.

“Your words are unkind,” she said softly, her dark eyes meeting Xiao Lan’s. “I serve the counselor as he commands. I wish no ill will upon anyone.”

Xiao Lan’s lips curled. “Such sweetness. But remember: in this palace, a smile can mask a dagger.”

Before Li Xiao could respond, the carved doors to the counselor’s study opened. Jin Tao stepped into the alcove, his expression unreadable. The two maids curtsied swiftly, their laughter dying on their lips.

“Li Xiao,” he said, his voice calm but carrying authority. “We leave for the eastern archives shortly. Be prepared.”

Li Xiao bowed deeply. “Yes, Counselor.”

Xiao Lan and Mei Feng exchanged a final glare before gliding away. As they disappeared, Li Xiao exhaled in relief. Jin Tao watched her for a moment, then turned and walked back into his study.

Li Xiao followed, her heart pounding. He had defended her again—silently, but effectively. She would serve him well in return.

The eastern archives lay beyond a series of winding corridors. Li Xiao carried a stack of catalog cards as Jin Tao led the way. The halls were lined with ancient tapestries depicting imperial conquests and celestial dragons. The air smelled faintly of camphor and old paper.

Inside the archives, Li Xiao set the cards on a low table and knelt to unroll a scroll. Today’s task was to index the imperial medical compendium—an invaluable text that recorded rare herbal remedies and surgical techniques.

Jin Tao moved among the shelves, selecting volumes with precision. Li Xiao recorded each title and author, her brush gliding smoothly across the parchment. The silence between them was comfortable, punctuated only by the soft rustle of scrolls and the occasional turning of a page.

Midmorning light filtered through high windows, illuminating dust motes that danced like tiny spirits in the air. Li Xiao paused, raising her hand to shield her eyes from a stray sunbeam. She heard Jin Tao’s soft voice behind her.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concern flickering in his crimson eyes.

She blinked and turned to face him. “Yes, Counselor. The light—” She hesitated. “It is brighter than usual.”

He reached out and adjusted the curtain, tempering the sunlight. “Better?”

Li Xiao nodded, touched by the gesture. “Much better. Thank you.”

He inclined his head and resumed his work. Li Xiao’s chest warmed with gratitude.

As the afternoon sun waned, Sister Wu arrived with a message. She knelt beside Li Xiao and whispered, “Your father’s condition has worsened. They send word that you may return home if you wish.”

Li Xiao’s heart clenched. She pressed a hand to her chest, struggling to steady her breath. The emperor’s medical compendium lay open before her, the pages filled with treatments she could never afford back home.

Jin Tao looked up from his cataloging and noticed the tension in her shoulders. “Li Xiao?” he asked softly.

She rose, her eyes glistening. “My father… he is gravely ill. They say I may go home to care for him.” Her voice trembled.

He stood and closed the compendium with a soft thud. “When does your leave begin?”

Li Xiao swallowed. “Immediately, if permitted.”

He considered her, his gaze steady. “Your father needs you. Go.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Thank you, Counselor.”

He hesitated, then reached out, placing a gloved hand on her shoulder. The touch was gentle, grounding. “Return to me when you can,” he said quietly. “This palace will not be the same without you.”

She bowed, overwhelmed by his kindness. “I will return as soon as I can.”

The journey back to her village was swift, thanks to imperial favor. Li Xiao’s heart ached with worry as she rode through familiar countryside: terraced fields, bamboo groves, and winding streams. Each landmark brought memories of her adoptive father’s gentle laughter and the herbal remedies he taught her to prepare.

When she arrived at the small cottage, she found him pale and frail, lying on a simple bed. His eyes lit up weakly when he saw her.

“My daughter,” he whispered, his voice raspy. “You came.”

She knelt beside him, taking his hand. “I’m here, Father. I will care for you.”

He smiled faintly. “You have grown so much. I am proud.” His hand tightened on hers, then relaxed.

Li Xiao’s tears fell freely. She pressed her forehead to his, silently promising to do everything she could to restore his health.

Weeks passed in a blur of herbal poultices, midnight vigils, and whispered prayers at the village shrine. Li Xiao tended her father with unwavering devotion, using the knowledge she had gleaned from the imperial archives. His condition slowly improved, his color returning to his cheeks.

One morning, as the first blossoms of spring unfurled, her father sat up in bed. He grasped her hand. “Return to the palace, my child. Your place is there.”

Li Xiao’s eyes filled with tears. “But I must stay until you are well.”

He smiled, frail but resolute. “I am stronger now. You must not delay your destiny.”

She nodded, heart heavy. “Very well. I will go back.”

The journey home was bittersweet. Li Xiao carried a small satchel of medicinal herbs and her father’s blessing. She rode swiftly, the palace gates welcoming her return like an old friend.

In the eastern wing, she paused at the carved doors of the counselor’s chambers, her heart pounding. She drew a steady breath and knocked softly.

“Enter,” came Jin Tao’s voice.

Li Xiao opened the door to find him standing by the window, his crimson eyes fixed on the rising sun. He turned as she entered, and for a moment, neither spoke.

Finally, he stepped forward. “You returned,” he said, his voice calm but warm.

She bowed deeply. “My father’s health has improved. He urged me to return.”

He inclined his head. “I am glad.”

She rose, meeting his gaze. “Thank you for your kindness, Counselor. I… I did not expect you to release me so freely.”

He regarded her thoughtfully. “You earned your leave. You earned your place.”

Li Xiao’s heart swelled. “I will continue to serve you with all my strength.”

Jin Tao nodded. “Then let us resume where we left off.”

As she knelt to place her cleaning cloth on the table, Li Xiao felt the threads of her life weaving together—village and palace, duty and affection—under the watchful gaze of the man who had become her anchor in a world of shifting shadows.