The prince’s decree was like a rock, momentarily calming the undercurrents surging through the household.
Lin Qianshan, entrusted with the sole responsibility of preparing meals for Prince Xiao, seemed to have found a semblance of peace.
Every day, she devoted herself to studying medicinal cuisine, blending modern nutritional knowledge with the ancient principles of Chinese dietary therapy.
Xiao Yu’s appetite visibly improved, and even when Imperial Physician Shen came to check his pulse, he stroked his beard and praised, “Well-regulated and properly managed.”
Yet Lin Qianshan did not let her guard down. The words from Fubo about “idle gossip” were like a thorn embedded in her heart. She knew that someone like Liu Rusi would never remain silent for long.
That afternoon, Lin Qianshan was guiding Aunt Zhou through the precise preparation of a pigeon-egg and mushroom soup when Chun Tao returned from outside, her face unusually tense, hesitating as if she wanted to speak.
“What is it?” Lin Qianshan asked, signaling Zhou to reduce the stove’s flame while glancing at Chun Tao.
Chun Tao leaned closer, lowering her voice, tinged with indignation: “Qianshan… outside… there are some unpleasant words being said.”
Lin Qianshan thought, here it comes, but her face remained calm. “What words?”
“They say… that the reason you were promoted to manage the kitchen is not because of your skill, but because… because of your seductive methods, secretly meeting the prince at night to gain favor…” Chun Tao’s voice dropped further, her cheeks flushed with anger. “And they say that the prince’s late-night visits to the kitchen… were private trysts with you! Utter nonsense!”
Even though she had been mentally prepared, hearing such a malicious and precise attack on her character caused Lin Qianshan’s heart to sink. A surge of anger, mixed with humiliation, rose to her head. She clenched the hand at her side, her nails digging into her palm, the sharp sting helping her maintain her composure.
The rumor was vicious to the extreme.
It not only sullied her reputation but challenged Xiao Yu’s authority and honor. If left unchecked, whether true or false, it would plant a seed of doubt between her and the prince, and destroy her standing in the household.
“And what else?” she asked, her voice tight.
“They also say… that your help to little Lingdang was only to curry favor with lowly servants, to build your own influence, that you are scheming…” Chun Tao’s voice trembled with anger. “Who spreads such nonsense? It was clearly done out of kindness!”
Lin Qianshan closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again, her expression now calm, almost serene. She patted Chun Tao’s hand and spoke with a voice so composed it bordered on coldness: “The innocent remain innocent; the vile remain vile. Hear these words and forget them. Do not argue, and do not let them disturb your mind.”
“But…” Chun Tao protested, feeling wronged on her behalf.
“No buts,” Lin Qianshan interrupted, her gaze sweeping across the other kitchen staff, who appeared busy but were secretly listening. Raising her voice slightly, she said clearly, “We servants’ duty is to serve our master. If the prince trusts us, we devote ourselves wholeheartedly; if the prince is displeased, we act with decorum. As for baseless rumors and idle gossip, the household rules will handle them. It is not for us to speculate. Focus on your own duties—that is your proper conduct.”
Her words were directed not just at Chun Tao but at everyone in the kitchen.
She would not waste breath defending herself, which only plays into the gossipers’ hands.
She would not investigate the source, which would also serve their schemes.
Instead, she would demonstrate through her actions and demeanor that her loyalty was to the prince alone, indifferent to slander.
The others lowered their heads in acknowledgment, though their eyes flickered with varying thoughts.
In the following days, Lin Qianshan maintained her usual routine, preparing meals meticulously and showing professional respect toward Xiao Yu, without any overstepping. The curious, sympathetic, or malicious glances from others she ignored completely, as if the poisonous rumors had never reached her ears.
Yet she keenly sensed subtle changes in the atmosphere around Xiao Yu. When Leng Feng came for meals, his gaze lingered a moment longer than usual. Even when Fubo conducted his rounds, there was an imperceptible scrutiny in his words.
She knew the rumors had inevitably reached Xiao Yu. He was waiting—waiting for her reaction, or perhaps waiting for verification.
That evening, fine winter rain fell, sharp and chilling. Lin Qianshan prepared a warming, cold-dispelling mutton soup with angelica and ginger. The broth was rich, aromatic, and comforting. She handed the meal box to Leng Feng as usual.
He accepted it but did not immediately turn to leave. Instead, he studied her for a moment and then asked, still flat in tone but carrying a faint probing quality: “Miss Lin, have you heard anything recently?”
Lin Qianshan’s heart skipped a beat, but her expression remained calm, a faint hint of puzzled curiosity on her face: “Sir Leng, I’ve been busy refining a few new soups and haven’t paid attention to anything else.”
Leng Feng studied her deeply, as if trying to peer into her thoughts. Seeing her expression candid and unguarded, he subtly nodded and said, “Good, then no matter.” He took the meal box and stepped into the rain.
Watching his retreating figure, Lin Qianshan slowly relaxed her clenched fist, feeling her palm cold and sticky. She knew this was only the first probe.
Sure enough, shortly after dinner, a young maid ran through the rain, voice timid: “Manager Lin… Prince Xiao… requests your presence in the study.”
Back to the study again—Lin Qianshan’s heart tightened. The inevitable had arrived. This time, it was no longer about the soup or medicinal herbs; it concerned her very person—her honor and her place in the household.
She adjusted her damp hair, inhaled the cold, wet air, straightened her back, and stepped toward the flickering candlelight that seemed even more daunting than the storm outside.