Chapter 13: Whispers in the Moonlight

The moon hung low over the palace rooftops, casting a silver glow through Li Xiao’s window. She lay awake on her cotton bedding, the memory of Counselor Jin Tao’s hand on her shoulder still warm against her cheek. Outside, the soft murmur of night insects drifted through the corridors, but sleep eluded her.

She rose and dressed quietly, smoothing her tunic and checking the jade hairpin in her braid. The silk handkerchief rested in her sash, its lotus embroidery catching the moonlight. Taking a deep breath, she slipped from her quarters and made her way toward the private courtyard—a hidden garden where she and the counselor had once shared tea.

The courtyard gate was unlatched, as if awaiting her arrival. Lanterns hung from willow branches, their soft glow illuminating moss-covered stones and a koi pond reflecting the starry sky. Li Xiao knelt on the wooden bench by the water’s edge, the air fragrant with night‑blooming jasmine.

A soft footstep alerted her to another presence. She looked up to see Jin Tao standing beneath a lantern, his white hair pale in the moonlight. His crimson eyes regarded her with quiet intensity.

“Li Xiao,” he said, voice low. “What brings you here at this hour?”

She rose and offered a respectful bow. “I could not sleep. I thought… perhaps you were here.”

He studied her for a moment, then gestured to the bench. “Sit.”

Li Xiao seated herself beside him, the koi pond between them. A gentle breeze stirred the willow leaves, and petals drifted across the water. They sat in silence, the world hushed around them.

Finally, Li Xiao broke the quiet. “Counselor, I—” She hesitated, searching for words. “I want to thank you for trusting me with your burdens.”

He turned his gaze to the pond. “Trust is earned,” he said quietly. “You have earned mine.”

Her heart fluttered. She glanced at him, his profile serene under the lantern’s glow. She reached into her sash and retrieved the silk handkerchief. “For your burdens,” she said softly, holding it out to him. “So you may find comfort when the mask grows heavy.”

He accepted the handkerchief with a gentle nod, folding it carefully and tucking it into an inner pocket of his robe. The gesture felt intimate, and Li Xiao’s cheeks warmed.

“Thank you,” he said. “Your compassion is… rare.”

She bowed her head. “I only wish to stand by your side.”

He turned to her then, his crimson eyes reflecting the lantern light. “Li Xiao, you are more than an aide. You are my confidante.”

Her breath caught. She lifted her gaze to meet his, her heart pounding in her chest.

“I…” she began, then closed her mouth, uncertain. The weight of his words settled over her.

He reached out, his gloved hand brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. The touch sent a warmth through her that no lantern could match.

“You need not speak,” he whispered. “Your presence is enough.”

Li Xiao’s pulse thundered as she looked into his eyes—eyes that had once seemed impenetrable, now softened by trust and something deeper. She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

Before she could respond, a sudden rustle of silk and the distant footsteps of a guard shattered the moment. Jin Tao withdrew his hand and stood.

“We should return,” he said, voice steady. “The palace walls are not meant for secrets.”

Li Xiao nodded, her heart still racing. They walked side by side through the courtyard gate and back toward the eastern wing. The lanterns flickered overhead, guiding their path in silent witness to their unspoken bond.

The next morning, Li Xiao arrived at the archives to find Sister Wu waiting outside. The older maid’s expression was grave.

“Counselor Jin Tao seeks you in his study,” Sister Wu said quietly. “He looks troubled.”

Li Xiao’s stomach tightened. She followed Sister Wu through the corridors to the study’s carved doors. Taking a deep breath, she entered.

Inside, Jin Tao stood by his desk, his robes draped loosely, his posture uncharacteristically tense. On the desk lay a sealed letter bearing the imperial seal.

“Counselor?” Li Xiao asked, kneeling to set down her tools.

He did not turn immediately. Finally, he lifted his head, and she saw the shadow in his crimson eyes.

“This letter arrived at dawn,” he said, breaking the seal. He withdrew a folded parchment and handed it to her.

Li Xiao opened the letter with trembling fingers. The writing was sharp and urgent: a summons from the emperor, ordering Jin Tao to appear at the front gates immediately. The emperor’s seal was bold, leaving no room for refusal.

She glanced at Jin Tao. “What does it say, Counselor?”

He folded the letter and placed it on the desk. “A rebellion has broken out in the southern provinces. The emperor calls for all loyal advisors to aid in quelling the unrest.” His voice was calm, but Li Xiao detected an undercurrent of tension.

She rose, concern etched on her face. “You must go.”

He nodded. “I will. And I wish for you to accompany me as my aide.”

Her heart pounded at the thought of leaving the palace for the provinces. “Counselor, it is dangerous—”

He stepped forward, his gaze firm. “Your skills are invaluable. I trust you to stand by me.”

Li Xiao swallowed. The rebellion threatened to engulf countless lives. The chance to serve at his side in such a crisis was both an honor and a peril.

“I will go,” she said, voice steady.

Jin Tao inclined his head. “Prepare at once. We depart at first light tomorrow.”

That night, Li Xiao packed her few belongings: spare tunics, her writing tools, the silk handkerchief, and the jade hairpin. Sister Wu entered her quarters, concern in her eyes.

“You journey to war,” Sister Wu said softly. “Be careful, child.”

Li Xiao offered a determined smile. “I will return safely, Sister Wu. For Counselor Jin Tao and for my father.”

Sister Wu placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “May the Goddess of Mercy protect you.”

Before dawn, Li Xiao and Jin Tao stood at the palace gates, the sky a pale wash of pre‑sunrise light. A contingent of guards and a small carriage awaited them. Jin Tao secured the silk handkerchief in his robe and offered his arm to Li Xiao.

She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, feeling the strength in his arm. Together, they climbed into the carriage. The doors closed, and the carriage rolled forward, carrying them beyond the palace walls and into the unknown.

As the city faded behind them, Li Xiao gazed at Jin Tao’s profile, resolved to stand by him through the trials ahead. The rebellion in the south would test their courage, their loyalty, and the bond they had forged in whispered moments beneath the moonlight.

And Li Xiao, the humble maid with a heart of unwavering resolve, would face whatever shadows lay ahead—side by side with the man whose crimson gaze had become her guiding light.