Chapter 16: Between Duty and Desire

The corridors of the Imperial Secretariat were a new world for Li Xiao. Silk banners bearing the imperial dragon draped from the balconies, and rows of archivists in pale robes moved with hushed purpose. She paused at the entrance to her new office—a small chamber lined with shelves of scrolls and ledgers. A polished desk stood before a lattice window overlooking the palace gardens.

Li Xiao inhaled deeply, her heart fluttering with equal parts pride and trepidation. Today marked her first day as Junior Archivist, a title she had scarcely dared to imagine. She smoothed her indigo tunic and adjusted the jade hairpin in her braid. The silver lotus handkerchief, now tucked into her sash, offered a silent reminder of Counselor Jin Tao’s faith in her.

As she stepped inside, the head archivist, Master Shen, looked up from a stack of scrolls. His lined face broke into a welcoming smile. “Welcome, Archivist Li Xiao. Your reputation precedes you. The emperor himself praised your diligence.”

Li Xiao bowed. “Thank you, Master Shen. I will serve to the best of my ability.”

He gestured to a shelf of newly arrived documents. “We have received the northern border reports. Please catalog them and prepare summaries for the Grand Council meeting tomorrow.”

Li Xiao nodded and set to work. Her brush moved across the parchment with practiced precision, her mind focused on the task. The sunlight through the lattice cast intricate patterns on the desk, and she felt at home among the scrolls.

Meanwhile, in the counselor’s wing, Jin Tao oversaw preparations for the upcoming diplomatic delegation from the Western Isles. He moved with the same calm efficiency that had guided him through rebellion and treaty. Yet beneath his composed exterior, he carried a concern that few perceived.

That evening, after the archivists had departed, Li Xiao made her way to Jin Tao’s chambers. She carried a bundle of catalog summaries in her arms, eager to share her progress and seek his counsel on certain ambiguous terms in the reports.

She paused outside his study, smoothing her tunic. Inside, she heard the soft scrape of brush on paper and the faint hum of his low whistle. She entered quietly.

“Counselor,” she greeted, kneeling to present her summaries.

He looked up, his crimson eyes warm with welcome. “Li Xiao. How fares your first day?”

She set the summaries on his desk. “Master Shen commends the work. I have questions about three passages in the northern reports—references to border skirmishes and local chieftains’ allegiances.”

Jin Tao rose and moved to the table. He studied the passages, his brow furrowing. “These chieftains shift loyalties like the wind. We must present the context accurately to the Grand Council.”

He pointed to a specific line: “Here, ‘the Wolf Clan withdrew support after the winter raid.’ Clarify whether ‘withdrew support’ means they remained neutral or joined the raiders.”

Li Xiao nodded, jotting notes. “I will cross‑reference with the military dispatches.”

He inclined his head. “Good. I will request the dispatches tonight.” He paused, then added softly, “Your insight is invaluable.”

Li Xiao’s heart warmed at the praise. “Thank you, Counselor.”

He regarded her thoughtfully, then returned to his work. Li Xiao bowed and withdrew, her mind already racing through the archives.

Late that night, Li Xiao sat at her desk in the Secretariat, poring over military dispatches. The moon cast a silver glow through the window as she translated and annotated each report. She worked by the light of a single lantern, her dedication unwavering.

Suddenly, a soft knock at the door startled her. She looked up to see Sister Wu standing in the doorway, concern in her eyes.

“Child, it is late,” Sister Wu said gently. “Rest now. You can finish in the morning.”

Li Xiao shook her head. “I must complete this before tomorrow’s council. The accuracy of these reports could influence imperial strategy.”

Sister Wu sighed, then approached and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Your dedication is admirable, but you cannot pour from an empty cup. Please, rest.”

Li Xiao hesitated, torn between duty and exhaustion. She glanced at the scrolls spread before her and then at the silver lotus handkerchief tucked into her sash—a gift and a promise. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“You are right,” she said softly. “Thank you, Sister Wu.”

Sister Wu smiled and retrieved the dispatches. “Come. I will walk you back to your quarters.”

Li Xiao stood, gathering the papers. “I will continue at first light.”

“Good,” Sister Wu replied. “Now rest.”

The next morning, Li Xiao arrived early at the Grand Council chamber, her indigo tunic crisp and her hair neatly pinned. She carried her final summaries and annotations, feeling a surge of nervous anticipation. The chamber’s high ceilings and ornate pillars bore witness to centuries of imperial decisions.

Counselors, generals, and high ministers assembled on plush cushions around a low table. At the head sat the emperor, his presence commanding and serene. Jin Tao stood beside him, offering quiet counsel. Li Xiao knelt at the table’s side, placing her documents before Jin Tao.

As the council began, Jin Tao presented the northern border reports. When he reached the disputed line about the Wolf Clan, he glanced at Li Xiao. She met his gaze and offered a subtle nod. He continued:

“The Wolf Clan’s position is clarified by military dispatch 47. They withdrew support from the raiders but maintained neutrality thereafter. This distinction is crucial in negotiating border treaties.”

The emperor leaned forward, studying the council. “So, they pose no further threat?”

Jin Tao replied, “Correct, Your Majesty. Their neutrality may be secured through diplomatic gifts and recognition.”

The ministers murmured their agreement, and the emperor nodded. “Very well. Prepare the envoys.”

As the council moved to the next agenda item, Li Xiao exhaled quietly. She met Jin Tao’s eyes, and he offered a rare, approving smile. Her heart soared—her work had influenced imperial policy.

That afternoon, as Li Xiao walked through the palace gardens, she reflected on the morning’s success. Cherry blossoms drifted around her like soft snow. She paused by a stone bench and sat, her thoughts drifting to the counselor whose trust had brought her this far.

A sudden rustle of silk made her look up. Jin Tao approached, a folded letter in hand.

“Li Xiao,” he greeted, his voice warm.

She rose and curtsied. “Counselor.”

He handed her the letter. “A message from your father.”

Her heart fluttered as she recognized her father’s neat handwriting on the envelope. She opened it with trembling fingers and read:

My dearest daughter,

I am well and recovering. The emperor’s physician sends his regards and praise for your service. I could not be prouder of you. Continue to serve with honor and compassion. Your father’s heart is always with you.

—Father

Li Xiao’s eyes filled with tears of gratitude and love. She folded the letter and pressed it to her chest.

Jin Tao watched her quietly. “He writes with great pride.”

She nodded, wiping her tears. “He does. His health improves daily.”

He offered a small, genuine smile. “Then your journey has brought blessings to many.”

Li Xiao met his crimson gaze. “I could not have done it without you.”

He inclined his head. “And I could not have accomplished this without your steadfast support.”

A warmth bloomed in her chest. She took a hesitant step closer. “Counselor, may I—”

Before she could finish, a distant gong echoed through the gardens, signaling the arrival of the Western Isles delegation. Jin Tao glanced at his watch. “Duty calls.”

Li Xiao nodded, regaining her composure. “Yes, Counselor.”

They walked together toward the reception hall, the palace corridors alive with the bustle of diplomats and servants. Each step carried them closer to new challenges—and to the unspoken bond that had grown between them, tempered by duty and blossoming with the promise of something more.

Under the palace’s silent watch, Li Xiao and Jin Tao moved forward—Archivist and Counselor, allies in service and in heart—ready to face whatever trials the imperial court would set before them.