Lin Ting was well aware that the fragrance might expose her identity, so she had already switched to a different scent.
However, she was still worried that Duan Ling might pick up on something.
The morning sunlight was gentle, silently nourishing all things.
Yet, Lin Ting felt as though she were being roasted over an open flame, her palms slightly sweaty.
She remained still, her eyes discreetly observing Duan Ling’s every move.
Duan Ling stopped directly in front of her, maintaining a respectable distance that wouldn’t seem inappropriate.
The scent of the most ordinary fragrance powder entered Duan Ling’s nose.
He averted his gaze and looked at the fish in the pond beneath the pavilion.
“My younger sister lacks proper etiquette and often disturbs Seventh Miss Lin. I hope you won’t take offense.”
Was he subtly warning her about getting too close to Duan Xinning?
Did he suspect her of having ulterior motives?
Lin Ting kept her composure, lowering her gaze as she carefully analyzed the meaning behind his seemingly simple statement.
“Lord Duan is overthinking. Xinning and I get along well—there’s no such thing as a disturbance.”
It was no secret that Duan Xinning visited the Lin residence whenever she had the chance.
Many noblewomen in the capital were both envious and resentful, even suspecting that Lin Ting had somehow bewitched Duan Xinning into blindly obeying her.
Of course, Lin Ting had done no such thing.
She had simply benefited from the original story’s setting—the female lead, Duan Xinning, regarded her as a close friend.
But that wasn’t something she could tell Duan Ling.
After a brief moment of deliberation, Lin Ting decided to play it safe.
Duan Ling’s lips curved slightly in a faint smile.
He spoke gently, “Could it be that I misunderstood? I recall seeing Seventh Miss Lin discard the pastries Ling Yun personally made. I assumed you found her presence bothersome.”
Ling Yun was Duan Xinning’s courtesy name.
Lin Ting knew this, and she also remembered the incident—two years ago, when she had thrown away the pastries Duan Xinning had made for her.
That was before she had “awakened,” when her body acted beyond her control.
Lin Ting furrowed her brows slightly, as if recalling the past.
At this moment, her expression appeared completely sincere.
She explained, “Lord Duan, you have misunderstood. I was ill at the time, and my hands were unsteady.
I accidentally dropped the pastries—it wasn’t intentional. I never expected you to witness it and carry that misunderstanding for so long.”
It was unclear whether Duan Ling believed her or not.
“So I have wronged Seventh Miss Lin all this time. My apologies.”
“Lord Duan, you speak too seriously,” Lin Ting replied, not taking his apology to heart.
A short distance away, the servant who had escorted Lin Ting to the Duan residence glanced at her.
He and Tao Zhu stood near the pavilion, unable to hear their conversation.
However, curiosity gnawed at him—why had the Second Young Master stopped her to speak?
Unlike the curious servant, Tao Zhu was anxious and worried for Lin Ting’s safety.
Others might not know about the strained relationship between Lin Ting and Duan Ling, but as her personal maid, Tao Zhu was all too aware.
Lin Ting had once spoken ill of Duan Xinning in front of Tao Zhu, and in her resentment, she had cursed Duan Ling as well.
She had said that no matter how good-looking he was, he wasn’t even worthy of licking her shoes—her words had been utterly unfiltered.
Whenever Tao Zhu heard such reckless remarks, she had been terrified.
The Jinyiwei had informants everywhere—if someone overheard and reported it, what then?
But Lin Ting had been fearless, acting with impunity because she was under Duan Xinning’s protection.
Tao Zhu had spent countless sleepless nights worrying over this, trying to persuade Lin Ting in vain.
It wasn’t until two years ago that she finally stopped speaking that way.
But who knew if those words had already reached Duan Ling’s ears?
Lin Ting, completely unaware of Tao Zhu’s thoughts, was fully focused on handling Duan Ling.
As they conversed, a letter slipped from Duan Ling’s sleeve and landed at Lin Ting’s feet.
The servant was about to speak up and remind him, but Lin Ting beat him to it, picking up the letter first.
“Lord Duan, you dropped your letter.”
Her reaction was perfectly natural, showing no indication that she knew what was inside.
Duan Ling blinked, his gaze darkening as he studied Lin Ting’s face.
Then, he calmly took the letter from her hands.
“Many thanks for the reminder, Seventh Miss Lin.”
“It was nothing. Lord Duan is too polite.”
She maintained a respectful and lighthearted demeanor.
Lin Ting grinned, unwilling to give Duan Ling any reason to suspect her.
She addressed him with the same courtesy as everyone else, never once implying that she sought to leverage her friendship with Duan Xinning to gain his favor.
Duan Ling casually placed the letter back into his sleeve and did not detain her further.
“Ling Yun is waiting for you. I won’t delay you any longer.”
His words were exactly what Lin Ting wanted to hear.
She quickly bowed and scurried away.
She didn’t believe that someone as cautious as Duan Ling would be so careless as to drop a letter without noticing.
Clearly, he had done it on purpose—to test her reaction.
Well, let him test all he wants.
She had played her part well, and without solid evidence, Duan Ling couldn’t prove anything.
Without looking back, Lin Ting quickened her pace, heading straight for Duan Xinning.
Along the way, she encountered no one else, as most of the servants were busy in the front courtyard.
Finally able to relax, she even took a moment to appreciate the scenery of the Duan estate.
Beyond the ornate flower gate, elegant pavilions and terraces came into view, subtle yet majestic.
Vines climbed the courtyard walls, and as she walked further inside, lush trees shaded strange rock formations.
A small bridge arched over a stream, where crystal-clear water flowed over fine, pale sand.
The deeper she ventured, the more it felt like stepping into a traditional ink painting.
The residence of a family favored by the emperor truly was different from the Lin estate.
Lin Ting raised an eyebrow, though she only admired it—she had no other thoughts on the matter.
At last, Duan Xinning’s private chambers came into view.
The servant leading her gestured for her to wait, then knocked on the door.
“Third Miss, Seventh Miss Lin has arrived.”
The door was opened—not by a maid, but by Duan Xinning herself.
Tao Zhu, following behind Lin Ting, took a moment to assess Duan Xinning.
She wore a light pink dress with minimal yet exquisite jewelry—a hairpin of celadon jade carved with flowers and birds, gold earrings inlaid with pearls, and an exceptionally rare white jade bracelet.
Though she had risen late and had only just finished applying her makeup, not yet having chosen her outfit for the day, she still carried an unmistakable air of nobility.
Compared to her, Lin Ting—despite her beauty—was dressed in far humbler attire.
Tao Zhu couldn’t help feeling a bit bitter.
Duan Xinning reached out, warmly taking Lin Ting’s hand.
Though she was usually soft-spoken and reserved, her tone was full of enthusiasm.
“Come inside and have a seat. Would you like some tea?”
“No need, I’m not thirsty.”
Before stepping inside, Lin Ting first presented the carefully prepared birthday gift.
The maid stepped forward to receive the gift, but Duan Xinning was faster, taking it with both hands herself.
Her gesture of personally accepting the gift spoke volumes about how much she valued Lin Ting.
The servants present silently took note of this, and the maid quietly stepped aside.
Duan Xinning opened the box, revealing a small, exquisitely crafted clay figurine.
Every detail, from the expression to the delicate patterns on the dress, was intricately sculpted.
She let out a soft sigh of admiration and gently picked it up.
Lin Ting watched her.
“I made it myself. I hope you don’t mind.”
“How could I? I love it—really, I do. This is the best gift I’ve received. Thank you.”
Duan Xinning knew how much effort it took to create something this detailed.
She was being too generous.
Lin Ting’s clay figurine wasn’t that impressive.
For the first time, even her thick-skinned self felt a little embarrassed.
“As long as you like it,” Lin Ting replied.
She had barely sat down when Duan Xinning leaned in mysteriously, her voice hushed.
“The heir of the Shian Marquis Manor will be attending today.”
Lin Ting turned her head to look at Duan Xinning, impressed by her courage in love.
In the original story, before Duan Xinning and Xia Zimo were even married, they were already making waves with their scandalous relationship.
By the time they officially tied the knot, she was already carrying his child, completely shattering Lin Ting’s perception of her as a prim and proper young lady.
Just thinking about how Duan Xinning would soon be tricked into bed by Xia Zimo—engaging in all sorts of cough indecent activities—made Lin Ting feel as though her precious friend was about to be devoured by a pig.
She and Duan Xinning had known each other since childhood.
After so many years of friendship, there was naturally some attachment.
Even though their relationship was consensual, and even though Xia Zimo was undeniably handsome and from a good family, Lin Ting still felt like he was getting the better end of the deal.
Duan Xinning’s face turned red.
“It wasn’t me. My father invited him. Not just him—several young noblemen from the capital were invited as well.”
Lin Ting immediately understood.
“I see. Your father is using your birthday banquet as an opportunity to invite eligible young men, hoping to find you a suitable husband. The heir of the Marquis of Shian is simply among the candidates.”
Hearing the word husband, Duan Xinning shyly covered her face with her handkerchief.
“Stop teasing me.”
They didn’t stay in the room for long.
Since it was Duan Xinning’s birthday, she had to make an appearance in the courtyard, mingling with the young noble ladies.
The banquet seating was divided—men on the left, women on the right—separated by several large standing screens.
Lin Ting’s seat was arranged right next to Duan Xinning’s, and as soon as she sat down, she could feel the scrutiny from all around.
She ignored it.
Let them look—it wasn’t as if she would lose a layer of skin.
Duan Xinning was called over by her parents, leaving Lin Ting with nothing to do but stare idly at the wine cup in front of her.
A woman approached, carrying a strong scent of perfume and powder.
Lin Ting lifted her gaze, meeting an unfamiliar face.
She had never seen this person before, let alone knew her.
The woman’s delicate brows arched as she pursed her red lips slightly.
“You must be Seventh Miss Lin?”
“That’s me. And you are…?”
She smiled.
“I am the daughter of Chen Sheng, an Assistant Minister in the Ministry of Justice. You can call me A-Jiang. I’ve heard Third Miss Duan mention you often—she says you’re quite the beauty. Seeing you today, I can see she wasn’t exaggerating.”
Lin Ting, a seasoned veteran in the business world, had long since honed her ability to handle social niceties.
She immediately responded, “Oh, not at all. If anyone here is a true beauty, it’s you, Sister Chen.”
Even though A-Jiang knew it was just flattery, she still found it pleasing to hear.
Nearby, a group of women were gossiping about Duan Ling.
Since Lin Ting was seated close by, she couldn’t help but overhear.
“Young Master Duan isn’t married yet, is he?”
“No, not yet.”
Lin Ting chuckled internally.
Duan Ling will never get married.
After all, the author didn’t give him a wife.
His fate was sealed—destined to remain single, untouched by romance, living an even purer life than a monk despite existing in a smut novel.
Leaning back, she relaxed, happily absorbing all the gossip around her.
Until—
Ding!
A robotic voice echoed in her mind:
“Villainous Supporting Character Task Triggered: Please hold Duan Ling’s hand. Time limit: five days.”
…Was this system ever going to leave her alone?
Lin Ting completely forgot she was still at a banquet.
With a sharp whoosh, she shot up from her seat.
At that exact moment, Duan Ling had just entered the banquet hall.
The first thing he saw was Lin Ting standing stiffly at the women’s section, frozen like a startled deer.
From the men’s section, several young noblemen looked over in confusion, wondering if something had happened.
Since this was Duan Xinning’s birthday banquet, Duan Ling couldn’t just ignore the situation.
He got up and approached, intending to ask what was wrong.
As he drew closer, he noticed Lin Ting’s gaze flickering toward him—no, not just at him.
At his hand.
His fingertips twitched unconsciously.
Ahhh… The little dog 🐕 went to look for his mate 🐩