Winter rain pelted the window panes of the study, its fine, urgent rhythm emphasizing the dead silence inside.
Lin Qianqian stood with her head lowered in the center of the room, clearly aware of her heart thudding heavily in her chest.
The air smelled of familiar ink and herbs, mixed with a faint, almost imperceptible chill that belonged to Xiao Yu, pressing down on her shoulders like an invisible mountain.
Xiao Yu was not seated on the couch. Instead, he stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, gazing out at the pitch-black courtyard shrouded in rain. His deep black brocade robe accentuated his tall, commanding figure, and simply by standing there, he made the air in the room feel suffocating.
He did not turn, and his voice, carried over the sound of the rain, was even colder than the chill outside: “Have you heard the rumors circulating in the manor?”
Here it comes. Lin Qianqian’s fingertips trembled slightly, forcing herself to steady her breathing. She knew that even the slightest sign of panic would be laid bare in front of this man.
“Your Highness,” she replied, keeping her voice as calm as possible, though a faint dryness betrayed her, “your servant… has heard a little.”
“Oh?” Xiao Yu slowly turned. The candlelight cast flickering shadows across his sharply defined face, and his deep eyes were like a cold pool, locking onto hers. “Do you know what I despise most?”
Lin Qianqian’s heart clenched sharply. She lifted her head, meeting his piercing gaze. Her calves weakened slightly, but her back remained straight. “Your servant does not know what your Highness despises, but she knows that Your Highness detests betrayal, deceit, and… incompetence.”
She avoided the specifics of the rumors, responding instead from a higher, principled perspective.
A faint flash of surprise crossed Xiao Yu’s eyes; he hadn’t expected her answer. He stepped closer, stopping just three paces away, his gaze like a torch, burning through her skin, as if seeking her very soul.
“Betrayal? Deceit?” he repeated, his tone playful, “Then tell me—those rumors about you sneaking around at night, using your charm to seduce me… are they betrayal? Deceit? Or… are they true?” The final word was low, almost inaudible, yet it struck Lin Qianqian like a weighty hammer.
Blood rushed to her head, her cheeks flushing with the sting of humiliation. She bit her lip until a metallic, iron-like taste filled her mouth, forcing herself to calm down. She knew that crying or arguing passionately now would be useless, even making her seem guilty.
Slowly, she knelt—not in a plea for mercy, but with solemn dignity. She lifted her head, her gaze clear and unwavering, meeting Xiao Yu’s bottomless eyes:
“Your Highness, may you see clearly. I entered the manor because my family had fallen on hard times, and I was forced into servitude. All I sought was a meal to fill my stomach and a place to live in peace. Your Highness did not abandon me, appreciated my modest skills, and entrusted me to manage the soups. To me, Your Highness is my lord and benefactor. Though I am lowly, I understand the meaning of loyalty and righteousness, and I know how to uphold my duties with integrity.”
Her voice was quiet but each word rang clearly, striking through the sound of the rain.
“When Your Highness came to the small kitchen at night, it was because of your stomach ailment, seeking a bowl of hot soup for comfort. I served the soup faithfully, without neglect. Beyond that, there is nothing between Your Highness and me but purity and propriety. If I had the slightest intent to seduce or deceive, or committed any improper act, may heaven strike me down and deny me rebirth for eternity!”
She raised her right hand, pointing to the sky in oath, her eyes resolute, unshaken.
The candlelight flickered in them, revealing a fragile yet unyielding strength.
Xiao Yu watched silently, observing her shoulders trembling slightly with emotion, her bright eyes filled with undeniable honesty, and the faint trace of grievance and stubbornness buried deep within.
Having read countless people, he could tell truth from lies in a single glance or subtle gesture.
The woman before him may have her thoughts and calculations, but in the matter of “innocence,” her reaction could not be faked.
The study fell silent once more, the echoes of her oath mingling with the patter of rain.
After a long moment, Xiao Yu finally spoke, his voice flat, no trace of emotion, yet no longer icy: “Rise.”
Lin Qianqian obeyed. Her knees tingled from kneeling so long, and she staggered slightly before regaining her stance.
“Rumors end with the wise,” Xiao Yu said, turning back to the window, his voice even. “I employ you, and so I trust you. But if I discover that even a single word of what you said today is false…” He left the threat unfinished, but the unspoken weight was colder and more terrifying than any raised voice.
“Your servant would never! I will fulfill my duties to the utmost, serving wholeheartedly, and never betray your trust!” Lin Qianqian bowed deeply. The great stone pressing on her chest finally lifted, leaving her almost dizzy with relief.
“Leave now,” Xiao Yu waved.
“Yes, your servant takes her leave.” Lin Qianqian bowed again, stepping out of the study.
The moment the door closed, she nearly collapsed, clutching the cold wall to support herself. Her back was soaked with cold sweat, pressing against her skin and sending shivers down her spine.
She had won. At least, for now, she had won this crisis of trust.
Xiao Yu remained by the window, raindrops winding down the glass, blurring the world outside. In his mind, he replayed Lin Qianqian pointing to the sky in oath, the clarity and resoluteness in her eyes—no disguise in them.
“Uncle Fu,” he spoke into the empty study.
As if from a shadow, Uncle Fu appeared silently at the doorway. “I am here, old servant.”
“Find out where the rumors originated,” Xiao Yu’s voice carried a trace of coldness. “Keep a close eye on Lanyue Pavilion. And…” he paused, “find an excuse to transfer that little girl called Xiao Lingdang and her grandmother to the laundry, far from the small kitchen.”
“Old servant understands.” Uncle Fu bowed, knowing full well: the prince trusted Lin Qianqian and was now taking steps to eliminate potential trouble. Moving the grandmother and granddaughter was both protection and a preventative measure.
Xiao Yu gazed out at the endless rain, his eyes deep and unreadable.
Lin Qianqian… you’d better remember the oath you swore today, forever.