After submitting her request to see Prince Xiao through Leng Feng, Lin Qianshan spent the entire afternoon restless.
She rehearsed her words over and over in her mind, imagining every possible reaction from Xiao Yu.
This was a dangerous gamble, like walking along the edge of a cliff—one wrong step and she could fall to her doom.
Night fell.
The work in the small kitchen was nearly done, and everyone had left except for Lin Qianshan and Chun Tao, who was responsible for the final cleaning.
The flickering glow of the oil lamp cast dancing shadows on the walls, mirroring the unease in her heart.
Just when she thought her request might be ignored, the familiar, steady footsteps sounded outside the courtyard.
It was not a messenger, but Leng Feng himself.
“Miss Lin,” Leng Feng’s voice was calm as ever, without any inflection, “Prince Xiao is in his study. Come with me.”
He agreed! Lin Qianshan’s heart leapt—relief mingled with an even greater tension.
She drew a deep breath, smoothed her slightly wrinkled clothes, gave Chun Tao a reassuring look, and followed Leng Feng out of the small kitchen.
Walking the corridor toward the study again, her mindset was entirely different from last time.
The last time, she had been passive, under scrutiny. This time, she was bringing herself before a man whose mind was as difficult to read as the wind.
The study door was slightly ajar. Leng Feng stopped outside, signaling her to enter alone.
Lin Qianshan pushed the door open. A mixture of ink, books, and a faint calming herbal scent wafted out.
Xiao Yu sat at the rosewood divan by the window, but this time, a large map was spread across the low table in front of him, along with several opened letters.
He did not look at her; his long fingers traced a point on the map, his brows slightly furrowed, as if contemplating some urgent military matter.
Hearing the door, he slowly lifted his head. The candlelight highlighted his slight fatigue, but his deep eyes remained sharp—like stars in the cold night. The invisible weight of his gaze pressed upon her.
“Your servant Lin Qianshan, pays respects to Prince Xiao,” she said, lowering her head and bending her knees in a formal bow. Her voice carried clearly in the silent study.
“Hm,” Xiao Yu responded lightly, without motioning her to rise, his gaze returning to the map. “What is the matter?”
His calm reception caught her slightly off guard. Maintaining her bow, she felt the faint sting of the cold floor against her knees. She bit her lip, knowing that any evasion now would be futile.
“Your Highness,” she began, lifting her head to meet his eyes, her gaze steady, “I have come today to admit a fault, and… to request a favor.”
“Oh?” Xiao Yu’s interest seemed piqued. He finally looked up fully from the map, his attention entirely on her. “What fault? What favor?”
“Today, I privately provided medicinal ingredients to aid a servant and was punished by Madame Zhao with half a month’s wages. I fully accept this penalty, for I have broken the household rules. Yet I fear…” She paused, her voice carrying a subtle tremor, not entirely feigned, “I fear that such trivial matters might make Your Highness doubt my character, viewing me as disobedient and rash.”
She placed her “admission of fault” first, lowering herself as much as possible.
Xiao Yu watched her, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the map, saying nothing, waiting for her to continue.
Lin Qianshan knew the critical moment had arrived.
She drew a deep breath and continued: “Although my time in the household has been brief, I am grateful for Your Highness’ trust, allowing me to manage the kitchen’s meals. I understand the responsibility is great, affecting Your Highness’ well-being, and I dare not slack in any detail. From selecting ingredients to preparing the dishes, I proceed with utmost care, as if treading on thin ice.”
She studied Xiao Yu’s expression and saw no sign of impatience.
Encouraged, she pressed on with her true purpose: “However, recent incidents—broken clay pots, returned pastries, even today’s medicinal ingredients—though I have been fortunate to avoid disaster, have made me keenly aware of the whirlpool I am in. I am lowly and have little influence; I only wish to serve Your Highness with my skills in peace, and I have no desire to be caught up in disputes, especially ones that might compromise Your Highness’ meals because of my own position.”
By now, her meaning was clear.
She was not excusing herself but presenting a fact—someone did not want her to serve him in peace.
Xiao Yu’s tapping ceased.
The study fell into silence, broken only by the occasional pop of the candle flame.
His eyes were deep and inscrutable, like a well of still water concealing hidden currents.
After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying an ineffable undertone: “So… what is this favor you request?”
Lin Qianshan felt her heart leap to her throat.
She knew the outcome would hinge on this single moment. She bowed again, forehead almost touching the floor, her voice resolute and desperate: “I humbly request that Your Highness allow me to prepare meals exclusively for you from now on. I am willing to pledge my life: if any mistake occurs in Your Highness’ meals, I will accept death in atonement. I only seek… a space where I can serve Your Highness without fear.”
This request, though appearing to seize authority, was in fact drawing a boundary.
She offered her life as collateral in exchange for a relatively safe space where she answered only to Xiao Yu.
She was clearly telling him: she could no longer handle the hidden daggers from others.
Her value lay in her skills and loyalty, and that value required his protection to remain intact.
After speaking, she remained pressed to the ground, motionless.
She could hear her own heart pounding in her chest, almost deafening. The air in the study felt frozen; each second stretched like an eternity.
She did not know how Xiao Yu would respond.
Would he see her as audacious, overstepping her bounds? Or would he understand the desperation and earnest plea beneath her words?
After what felt like an eternity, his voice came from above, still calm, yet carrying a subtle, indescribable undertone:
“Raise your head.”