Chapter 9: Lanterns and Longing

The palace lanterns glowed like embers in the evening breeze, casting a warm glow across the marble courtyard. Music drifted from the festival grounds: zithers, flutes, and the soft thrum of drums. Li Xiao carried a small tray of tea to Counselor Jin Tao’s balcony, where he had requested her presence after the day’s ceremonies.

She paused at the threshold, taking in the sight before her: Jin Tao stood beneath a canopy of red silk lanterns, their light dancing across his white hair and crimson eyes. The jade rooftops stretched behind him, and beyond them, the night sky was spangled with stars. He turned as she entered, inclining his head in greeting.

“Thank you for the tea,” he said quietly, stepping aside to allow her to set down the tray.

Li Xiao curtsied and placed the porcelain cups on the low table. The scent of jasmine and mint rose from the steaming tea, mingling with the faint fragrance of cherry blossoms.

He poured two cups and handed one to her. She accepted it with both hands, bowing her head in thanks. The warmth of the cup seeped into her palms, grounding her in the moment.

They sipped in companionable silence, listening to the distant music and the soft rustle of silk as courtiers wandered below. Li Xiao’s heart fluttered. The counselor’s balcony—once a place of duty—now felt intimate, charged with the unspoken.

At last, Jin Tao set his cup down and turned to her. “You performed admirably today. The emperor’s robe was the highlight of the ceremony.”

Li Xiao’s cheeks warmed. “I am honored to have been entrusted with it.”

He nodded. “Your skill and dedication are… rare.” His gaze held hers, the lantern light flickering in his crimson eyes.

She hesitated, then met his gaze. “I only wish to serve well.”

Jin Tao studied her for a long moment, as though searching her face for something. Then he sighed softly and stepped closer, the lantern light casting his shadow over her.

“Li Xiao,” he began, voice low, “what do you seek in your service here?”

The question startled her. She blinked, unsure how to answer. She had never considered her deeper motives—only her duty and her father’s well‑being. Now, under his steady gaze, she felt vulnerable.

She set her cup on the table and bowed her head. “I seek to honor my father’s sacrifice and repay the kindness shown to me. I wish to be of use—to you and to the palace.”

He regarded her thoughtfully, then reached out and gently lifted her chin, tilting her face toward his. The lantern glow revealed the soft curve of her cheek, the dark sheen of her eyes.

“And what of your own heart?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “What do you wish for yourself?”

Her breath caught. She met his gaze, feeling the pulse of his words in her chest. She thought of the days spent polishing screens, cataloging scrolls, embroidering silks—each task had drawn her closer to him, had taught her more about her own strengths and desires.

“I…” she began, then hesitated. The words felt heavy, vulnerable. “I wish for purpose beyond duty. I wish for a place where I belong.”

Jin Tao’s expression softened, and he released her chin. She felt a tingle where his glove had brushed her skin.

“Then you have found that place,” he said quietly. “Here, with me.”

Her heart pounded. She opened her mouth to speak, but the music from below swelled, drowning out her words. A troupe of dancers in silk robes performed beneath the lanterns, their movements fluid as water. Li Xiao watched them, then looked back at Jin Tao.

He offered a small, encouraging smile. “Shall we watch together?”

She nodded, and they stepped to the railing side by side. The dancers swayed in time with the drums, and the audience below clapped in rhythm. Li Xiao sipped her tea, the warmth settling in her chest.

As the performance ended, Jin Tao turned to her. “You have earned your rest for the night. Tomorrow, we resume the archives project.”

Li Xiao bowed. “Yes, Counselor.” She lingered, unwilling to leave the shared silence.

He watched her for a moment, then nodded. “Good night, Li Xiao.”

“Good night, Counselor,” she replied softly, curtsying before retreating into the corridors.

That night, Li Xiao lay on her cotton bedding, the memory of Jin Tao’s touch lingering on her skin. She traced the pattern of the jade hairpin, her thoughts a tangle of duty and longing. She closed her eyes, allowing herself a rare moment of vulnerability.

The following morning, Li Xiao arrived at the eastern archives to find Jin Tao waiting, a stack of scrolls in hand. He looked at her with the same intensity she had come to know, and she felt her resolve solidify.

“Today, we begin the translation of the emperor’s personal diary,” he said, handing her a delicate scroll bound in crimson silk. “The entries are written in archaic script. We will work together to ensure accuracy.”

Li Xiao accepted the scroll, her fingers brushing his as she took it. The moment sparked a warmth that spread through her. “I will study the script,” she said, bowing her head.

He nodded. “We start at the first entry.”

They settled at a low table, the scroll unrolled between them. The diary’s pages were yellowed with age, the ink faded but legible. Jin Tao read the first line aloud in a soft voice, and Li Xiao transcribed the translation in neat characters.

As they worked, the world beyond the archives fell away. Their heads bent close over the scroll, and she felt the quiet intimacy of shared purpose. Hours passed in a blend of ancient words and modern understanding, and Li Xiao’s admiration for the counselor deepened as she witnessed his care for every nuance.

Late afternoon brought a soft knock on the archives door. Sister Wu entered, her expression concerned. “Li Xiao, a message from the emperor. He requests your presence in the imperial gardens at dusk.”

Li Xiao’s heart fluttered. She looked at Jin Tao, who gave a slight nod.

“Go,” he said. “I will join you there.”

She bowed and hurried from the archives, her mind racing. The imperial gardens at dusk were a place of rare beauty: lanterns hung from willow branches, koi glided in the moonlit pond, and the air was sweet with night‑blooming jasmine.

When Li Xiao arrived, the emperor stood beside a marble fountain, flanked by high‑ranking officials. He wore the blue robe she had helped prepare, the silver phoenix gleaming on his chest. The officials murmured respectfully as Li Xiao approached, kneeling to present the translated diary.

“The emperor thanks you,” one official intoned, accepting the scroll. “Your service to the court is commendable.”

Li Xiao bowed deeply. “I am honored, Your Majesty.”

The emperor’s gaze swept over her, then lingered on Jin Tao, who stood silently behind her. The emperor nodded, and the officials dispersed, leaving Li Xiao alone with the ruler and his advisor.

The emperor turned to Jin Tao. “Your translation is swift and accurate. You may continue.”

Jin Tao inclined his head. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

He looked at Li Xiao and offered a small, approving smile. She bowed again, her heart swelling with pride.

As dusk deepened, Li Xiao and Jin Tao walked back to the eastern wing together. Lanterns lined the path, their glow soft and inviting. The night air was cool, carrying the scent of blossoms and distant incense.

Li Xiao glanced at Jin Tao. “Thank you for your guidance,” she said quietly. “Without you, I could not have served so well.”

He regarded her thoughtfully. “You possess talent and determination. I merely provided opportunity.”

She smiled, touched by his modesty. “You gave me a chance. I will not forget it.”

They walked in comfortable silence until they reached the eastern wing’s carved doors. Li Xiao paused, reluctant to end the evening.

Jin Tao turned to her, his crimson eyes soft in the lantern light. “Rest now,” he said. “Tomorrow, the work continues.”

She bowed. “Good night, Counselor.”

He inclined his head. “Good night, Li Xiao.”

As she stepped inside, Li Xiao’s heart fluttered with the promise of dawn—and the knowledge that, under the counselor’s wing, her own story of duty and longing would continue to unfold.