The palace awoke slowly, the first soft sounds of servants stirring echoing through the corridors. Lingxi rose with the measured precision she had learned over years of ceaseless training, washing quickly, tying back her red hair, and moving toward the dormitory doors. She could already feel the eyes of the three girls in her room—Yuerong, Jinglan, and Mingzhu—watching her. Their gazes were sharp, calculating, brimming with disdain.
Yuerong leaned against the cot, arms crossed, her dark eyes narrowing. "Lingxi, do you ever sleep? Or is every step you take some act of superiority?"
Jinglan tilted her head, a mocking smile on her lips. "I swear, even as a kitchen runner she carries herself like a noble. Doesn't she know her place?"
Mingzhu, silent until now, gave a glance that sent a shiver down Lingxi's spine. "She pretends to be so precise, too careful… one day, luck will run against her and then she will see how stupid she really is for herself."
Lingxi said nothing. Silence had long been her shield, and she moved past them with calm, practiced steps, keeping her gaze lowered. The three girls muttered among themselves, the venom in their words failing to reach her. She had survived much worse than scowls and whispers.
Her first task was the kitchen. She moved through the corridors with quiet efficiency, the scent of polished stone and incense drifting faintly through the air. Entering the kitchen, she greeted Senior Chef Nian with a slight nod. His expression was neutral, but the subtle lift of his eyebrows indicated recognition of her competence.
"Morning, Lingxi," he said briskly. "Assist with the breakfast trays for Consort Yan Zhen. Everything must be precise."
"Yes, Senior Chef," she replied, her voice steady.
Her hands moved swiftly, delivering trays of steaming rice, fragrant congee, and small sweet buns. She organized utensils, checked the temperature of teas, and relayed each dish to the waiting runners. The clatter of pots and pans, the hiss of boiling water, and the aroma of cooked grains and fresh herbs enveloped her, yet she remained composed, each action deliberate, each movement efficient.
After completing the kitchen duties, she moved to the garden. The stone paths glimmered faintly in the morning sun, lanterns casting subtle shadows that danced across the meticulously trimmed flowerbeds. She knelt to loosen the soil around young shoots, pruned dead leaves, and carried water to distant beds, ensuring each plant received attention. Every motion was measured, each step deliberate. Her muscles ached faintly, but the work steadied her, grounding her in the rhythm of the palace that had become her life.
Xiao Lan's voice rang out sharply. "Lingxi, there! The soil near the jasmine—neglected." Sometimes you can be so dumb.
Lingxi paused, scanning the area. Everything appeared in order, but she inclined her head. "I will attend to it," she said softly, her voice carrying neither frustration nor apology, just acknowledgment.
Nearby, Yuerong whispered to Jinglan and Mingzhu, loud enough for Lingxi to hear. "Look at her. Acting as if she commands the garden. Does she not know humility?"
"She moves like she owns the place," Jinglan replied with a snort. "I cannot abide it. Sometimes she acts as if is favored, and better than us and we are beneath her entirely."
Mingzhu's voice cut in softly but sharply. "Watch her. Every step is acting deliberately as if she is so graceful . Every glance measured. One day, she will turn and spit on us with the way she behaves .
Lingxi ignored them, she wonders how they have time to always pester her, is there work not tasking enough, or they finish so early so they have enough time for this, lingxi laughs in her mind. She had learned that endurance, precision, and observation were her weapons. Their hostility, however loud, could not touch her focus. She swept the corridors after tending the garden, polished the carved railings, and adjusted the lanterns along the stone paths. Each motion was deliberate, exact, practiced—a ritual that strengthened her resolve and quiet confidence. She did not know where this growing confidence came from, but it coursed through her steadily, like a hidden river beneath the surface of her mind.
The day dragged on, the hours measured by the duties she completed with unyielding diligence. Meals were brief and silent, her body moving automatically through every step, every task. By evening, the palace had grown quiet, the corridors softer, the lanterns casting a gentle, golden glow on the stone floors. Lingxi's thoughts began to wander, tugged by a restlessness she could not name.
She found herself, almost without thinking, drawn back to the garden—a rare visit. The moonlight spilled across the stone paths and reflected in the still pool at its center. The air was cool, scented faintly with jasmine and the faint smoke from the palace lamps. Each step she took was careful, measured, her heartbeat steady despite the anticipation she could not explain.
She had reached the central path when she sensed another presence. Instinctively, she dropped to her knees, bowing deeply, forehead almost touching the stone.
He was there.
Moonlight traced the edges of his dark robes, highlighting the quiet authority he carried naturally. Lingxi lowered her gaze further, hands folded neatly in her lap, her body tense but obedient.
"Rise," he said, calm, commanding, yet without harshness.
She obeyed, standing slowly, her posture precise, head bowed slightly. The night seemed to hold its breath.
"You again, you come here at this hour," he said.
"I do not often," she answered softly. "Only when I cannot sleep."
He stepped closer. His gaze swept over her slowly, deliberately, lingering on the shape of her face, her beautiful yearning watery brown almond eyes , her small beautiful pink lips , curves of her shoulders, the soft curve of her hips, the soft sweep of her red hair.he thought " how does she still retain her fair beautiful skin even with all the arduous works she does, this maiden truly is beautiful , he smirks" Then his hand rose, brushing lightly against her cheek, tilting her chin toward the lantern light. The touch was gentle, controlled, intimate yet detached.
Her eyes… intelligent, yet cautious. The red of her hair frames her face perfectly. Her lips, soft and subtle. The curve of her jaw, delicate and precise. She is fair and poised, yet every line hints at strength. She does not seek attention, yet commands it effortlessly. Fascinating…
Lingxi did not flinch. Courage rose in her unbidden, a quiet strength she could not explain.
"You do not leave me to silence tonight," he said softly. "Sit with me."
Her heartbeat jumped, but she obeyed, settling beside him on the stone path. Her hands remained folded neatly. She did not understand her own courage, yet it allowed her to speak.
"Do you truly enjoy quiet moments like this, Your Majesty?" She immediately covers her mouth and bows. I am sorry your majesty I spoke out of terms.
He laughs and tells her rise, you can speak freely besides I asked for the company,
He considered her question, eyes scanning the garden in silence before he answered. "Quiet is rare. Precious. I came because the palace is loud, and tonight… it is not. And you… you are here."
Lingxi's throat tightened. She summoned another question, soft but firm. "Why have you come tonight?"
He exhaled softly. "I wished to see the garden without disturbance. To observe… more than rules or appearances. And you… you were here. That is enough reason."
They remained in silence for several minutes, listening to the faint trickle of the fountain, the rustle of leaves, the soft hum of the night. Meaning passed between them effortlessly, in shared breaths and quiet glances.
Before she could rise, he leaned close, whispering behind her ear with a soft intimacy that made her shiver. "Two days from now, at this hour, come to this spot. Someone will meet you. You must come."
Her pulse quickened. She inclined her head respectfully. "I understand, Your Majesty. Thank you."
Lingxi left the garden quietly after taking permission, steps measured, mind racing with memory—the gentle brush of his fingers, the precise whisper, and the promise of the next meeting.
He watches her retreating figure with a smile,he thought " what really draws me to this beauty, she isn't even of noble birth but a servant, I must figure it ,what better way to find out t than spending better time with her"
He smirks darkly and departs.
Back in her room, she allowed herself a small smile. Courage had risen where she did not expect it. The memory of his voice, of the touch, of the calm yet electric tension in the garden, filled her with anticipation. The thought of returning in two days kept her mind alive with both nervousness and delight.
For the first time, the palace seemed both vast and intimate. Every corridor, every lantern, every shadow seemed to hold potential, opportunity, and the promise of quiet yet extraordinary encounters. Lingxi lay down, letting the night wrap around her, her heart steady but filled with the sweet tension of what was to come.