Duan Ling raised his hand, slowly taking Lin Ting’s fingers in his.
“How do you feel? When you like someone, you’ll feel something when you kiss them. I feel it when I kiss you. I really like it.”
Lin Ting seriously suspected Duan Ling was doing this on purpose, but without proof, she tried to pull her hand away, yet found his grip strangely comforting and finally didn’t let go.
“I don’t feel anything.”
“Why not?”
Lin Ting cleared her throat a few times, “No reason, I just don’t feel anything.”
“I was just trying to give you an idea. If you don’t like it, then don’t bother.” Duan Ling smiled and then stood up, casually taking off his Black Official Hat and placing it aside.
She watched his tall, slender back, her nose twitching as she caught the scent of agarwood mixed with a faint trace of soap pods so she asked, “Did you just bathe?”
Duan Ling calmly loosened his Wrist Guard, letting his sleeve fall.
The scarred wrist remained hidden beneath the fabric, not revealing a single detail.
“I always bathe after coming out of Zhaoyu.”
Lin Ting said “Oh.”
He set aside the Wrist Guard and pulled out a Hua Ben and said, “I had the Imperial Guard buy this just now.”
She took it, her eyes lighting up, “This is the newest Hua Ben in Jingcheng—very popular. I read the first volume but couldn’t find the second. You’re impressive, managing to get it.”
While Duan Ling went to Zhaoyu to interrogate criminals, Lin Ting read books about astronomy and geography in the Ancestral Hall, not Hua Ben, or she wouldn’t have been so restless she ran out to play cards with the Imperial Guard.
Flipping through a few pages, Lin Ting said cheerfully, “I owe you one.”
Duan Ling just smiled without replying.
Though Lin Ting wanted to finish the Hua Ben immediately, she felt tired and decided to sleep first.
“I’m a bit weary, I’ll rest for a while.”
Yawning, she walked to the Beauty Couch set aside for short rests, sat down, and glanced at the desk piled with dossiers in front of her, wondering when Duan Ling would finish reading them all.
“You keep working.”
Duan Ling sat at the desk, picked up a dossier, and said, “Alright.”
Lin Ting didn’t take long to fall asleep.
Her breathing was light, but her movements were restless—she kicked the pillow and thin quilt off the Beauty Couch, one leg dangling off the side, her skirt falling just below her calves.
Behind the Beauty Couch was a small window facing an empty backyard.
A cool breeze blew in now and then, chasing away the heat and making her sleep more comfortably.
Duan Ling approached, bent down, and picked up the pillow and quilt, placing them aside.
Lin Ting was unaware.
He held her ankle, pulled down her skirt to cover the large patch of exposed pale skin, and placed her dangling leg back onto the couch to prevent her from rolling off and waking herself up.
“Duan Ling?”
Lin Ting felt someone hold her ankle, tickling slightly.
Groggy, she blinked open her eyes and spoke with the nasal tone unique to sleep. Â
After arranging her leg, Duan Ling released her ankle and sat on the edge of the couch.
“I’m a bit tired too.”
Her mind fuzzy, she vaguely felt like she had gone back to childhood when they would lie down beside each other on the Beauty Couch to rest after studying or playing, except Duan Xinning insisted on returning to her own room instead of resting in the study.
Still drowsy, Lin Ting closed her heavy eyelids, scooted closer, and patted the empty space beside her, inviting Duan Ling to lie down there.
After looking at her for a while, Duan Ling finally took out the Jade Hairpin from her hair and lay down on the Beauty Couch.
He drifted into an afternoon nap, breathing in her scent.
Half an hour later, Lin Ting woke up, and as soon as she opened her eyes, she saw Duan Ling beside her and froze for a moment before nudging him awake, “You…”
She had meant to ask why he was lying on the couch, but suddenly remembered she was the one who had called him to lie down.
People often do silly things and say silly words when half-asleep.
Duan Ling was roused, “What’s wrong?”
Since Lin Ting recalled she had invited him up, what else could she say?
“Nothing, you keep sleeping. I’ll get up and read.”
He looked out the window at the sky and replied, “It’s getting late. I should get up and look over the dossiers.”
She sat up and glanced at the desk, noticing that half of the dossiers were gone.
She thought, The Imperial Guard really aren’t ordinary people—they need brains and stamina to get all this done.
Lin Ting stopped thinking and opened the Hua Ben Duan Ling had bought for her, reading with great interest.
Seven days passed in the blink of an eye.
At first, Lin Ting wasn’t used to staying at the Imperial Guard’s Northern Command Office, but eventually, she adapted.
Today, she sat on the Beauty Couch reading the Hua Ben as usual.
Duan Ling wasn’t in the Ancestral Hall nor at Zhaoyu interrogating criminals.
Half an hour ago, he had taken the Imperial Guard to investigate a case and hadn’t returned yet.
Lin Ting didn’t ask where exactly he had gone.
The Imperial Guard had endless affairs to handle; she wasn’t going to interfere.
For some reason, Lin Ting’s right eyelid twitched uncontrollably, making it hard to focus on the Hua Ben.
Left eye twitches mean wealth; right eye twitches mean disaster.
Could there be trouble?
Closing the Hua Ben, she loosened her collar slightly, took out the Jin Caishen Pendant she always wore, and bowed a few times, “God of Wealth, please protect me and eliminate all disasters related to me.”
Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside the Ancestral Hall.
She put away the Jin Caishen Pendant, jumped off the Beauty Couch, and walked to the door, curiously peeking out and asked, “What’s going on?”
An Imperial Guard said, “Gas pipe burst on San Fang Jie. Lord Duan is still inside, whereabouts unknown.”
No sooner had he spoken than she dashed out.
Lin Ting’s martial arts were taught by Duan Ling and were far better than the average Imperial Guard at the Northern Command Office, so for a moment, none of them could keep up with her.
At this moment, a great fire raged through San Fang Jie, thick smoke billowing, and townsfolk fleeing in panic, chaos everywhere.
Lin Ting’s heart tightened, and she shouted loudly, “Duan Ling! Duan Ziyu!”
The Imperial Guard finally caught up.
Armed with bows and Spring Embroidery Daggers, ready for rescue, one said, “Seventh Miss Lin, this place is dangerous. You should leave first. We will definitely find Lord Duan.”
Lin Ting ignored them and strode deeper into the alleyways.
Whenever she heard movement inside a burning building, she ran over and kicked the door open.
Several doors fell with a bang.
The Imperial Guard stared, stunned.
Seventh Miss Lin can fight?
Judging by her moves, she’s about seven or eight parts similar to Lord Duan.
But they were trained Imperial Guards and quickly snapped out of their shock, rushing forward to assist Lin Ting.
Within just a quarter of an hour, Lin Ting searched over a dozen houses without finding Duan Ling, but she rescued many women and children trapped in the fire.
She told two Imperial Guards to escort them out.
She turned to the remaining Guards, “Are you sure Lord Duan disappeared near here?”
They nodded.
They had searched the vicinity thoroughly but hadn’t seen Duan Ling.
Lin Ting wiped sweat from her chin and tried to stay calm, looking around.
“Before the pipe burst on San Fang Jie, did anything happen?”
The fire burned fiercer, temperatures rising all around, and they were sweating profusely searching.
“We don’t know. We only know Lord Duan chased a man into San Fang Jie.”
Her anxiety grew.
She walked and stopped, observing the houses and asked, “How skilled is this man?”
When Duan Ling was young, he experienced a great fire.
In such conditions, dizziness set in, making self-defense impossible and leaving him vulnerable.
Lin Ting needed to find him quickly.
“He’s quite skilled.” The Imperial Guards followed closely.
Since Lin Ting was betrothed to Duan Ling, any harm coming to him could implicate them.
Lin Ting fell into thought.
Normally, she wouldn’t worry about Duan Ling losing a fight.
In her ten-plus years of life, she’d never seen anyone able to match him.
But why did it have to happen during a fire?
Suddenly, an Imperial Guard pointed ahead, “Seventh Miss Lin, look! Lord Duan!”
Lin Ting looked up to see Duan Ling being held by a fierce-looking man as they emerged from a fire-damaged house.
A short dagger was pressed against Duan Ling’s neck.
Her hand clenched into a fist.
The man stopped cautiously about a hundred paces away and shouted, “Let me go if you want him alive. Otherwise, we all die together.”
Smoke drifted, clouding their vision.
Lin Ting gauged the distance between the man and them, took a bow from one of the Imperial Guards, and silently slipped behind them.
Using the cover of smoke, she nimbly slipped into a nearby house that the fire had not yet touched.
She climbed onto the roof, standing on glazed tiles, bow drawn, arrow nocked.
Duan Ling had taught her archery before.
Lin Ting took a deep breath and aimed the iron arrow at the man, but just before releasing it, hesitation struck—what if she missed?
The man was right beside Duan Ling.
Shoot or don’t shoot?
After a moment of inner struggle, she chose to trust herself and released the arrow.
The arrow struck the man’s dagger hand dead-on, causing the dagger to drop.
As he bent to pick it up, Lin Ting fired another arrow without hesitation.
“Whoosh!” It hit his other hand.
She didn’t dare kill but wasn’t afraid to wound.
The man scrambled to find cover, and the Imperial Guards chased after him.
Duan Ling stood motionless, hiding a palm-striking poison in his hand, lifting his head to look up at Lin Ting on the roof.
This was Lin Ting’s second time rushing into a fire to find him—the first was in childhood.
Back then, it was winter, dry and flammable.
Duan Ling fell ill suddenly at midnight and was too weak to leave the burning room or slip into the secret passage inside his room.
Lin Ting, who was staying at the Duan residence, was the first to notice the fire.
After alerting others, she climbed in through a window alone to find him.
Once she found him, the fire had blocked the door and window, trapping them inside.
She dragged him into the secret passage with all her strength.
Having spent years playing with Duan Ling, she knew about the secret passage and exactly where it was.
The passage had a vent, and they stayed inside for a long time, waiting for the fire to die out before leaving.
Thinking of this, Duan Ling was momentarily lost in thought.
On the roof, Lin Ting dropped her bow and arrow and swiftly left, running onto the street to pull him out of San Fang Jie and asked, “Are you alright?”
He came back to himself and replied, “I’m fine.”
She took a cloth to wipe the blood on his neck—the man’s dagger had cut him, leaving a bloody mark.
“Your neck’s injured.”
Duan Ling bent down, making it easier for Lin Ting to wipe the wound.
“Just a small cut.”
“It doesn’t hurt?”
He had meant to say it didn’t feel like much, but seeing her worry, he changed his tone.
“A little.”
“Let’s go back to the Northern Command Office.”
Without waiting to see if the Imperial Guards caught the man, Lin Ting led Duan Ling back to tend to his wound.
Once inside the Ancestral Hall, she went straight for the medicine.
After finding it, she brought a basin of water and pointed at the Beauty Couch with an order, “Sit down. I’ll clean and dress your wound.”
He sat down and asked, “You’re really worried about me?”
Lin Ting, looking at the cut on Duan Ling’s neck, grew irritable and rough, grabbing him roughly.
“Nonsense. You’re my friend. If I didn’t worry about you, who else?”
Duan Ling gently brushed away the sweat-dampened stray hairs stuck to her cheek that partially covered her skin.
“Is it really just because I’m your friend?”
She put medicine on the wound and wrapped it with cloth.
“What else?”
Duan Ling stared into Lin Ting’s eyes, seeing his reflection there.
“It’s because you like me that you’re so worried.”
His words were almost hypnotic.
Lin Ting snapped, “Shut up.”
He repeated softly, “It’s because you like me that you’re so worried.”
Trying to silence him, Lin Ting unexpectedly leaned forward and bit his pale red lips hard enough to draw blood.
It wasn’t a kiss meant for closeness but more like retaliation for his refusal to listen and be quiet.
When Lin Ting realized what she’d done and tried to pull away, Duan Ling cupped the back of her neck, kissed her, gently prying open her lips to suck on her tongue.
Her hands froze, but she didn’t push him away.
After a while, as the kiss lingered, Duan Ling let out a low moan, making Lin Ting’s ears tingle.
She instinctively kissed him back.
Fifteen minutes later, Lin Ting was certain—she felt something when kissing Duan Ling.
She was wet.