Chapter 19 : A Test of Voices

Tao Zhu remained silent for a moment before saying, “Seventh Miss, you should think twice before acting. Don’t be so rash—it’s not good for your reputation. You used to cherish your reputation the most…”

She had once again started her admonition.

Lin Ting didn’t buy into her words at all. 

While lowering her head to pick out silk ribbons, she replied, “That was in the past. Now is now. When I was born, I was just a little over three pounds. Look how many times that has multiplied now?”

After finishing breakfast, Lin Ting warned Tao Zhu that if she kept nagging, she wouldn’t take her out.

This threat was more effective than anything else. 

Tao Zhu immediately shut her mouth, afraid that Lin Ting would leave her behind at the Lin residence and go out alone.

By the end of the hour of Chen (around 8-9 AM), Lin Ting set off for the Duan residence to visit Duan Xinning. 

She wasn’t sure if Duan Ling would be home—perhaps he was still at the Beizhen Fusi handling official matters.

When she arrived at the Duan residence, Lin Ting was once again led to Duan Xinning’s boudoir.

However, this time, it wasn’t just an ordinary gatekeeper who escorted her in, but Duan Xinning’s personal maid, Zhi Lan. 

Zhi Lan had come to the entrance to greet Lin Ting because she had something to say.

Ever since returning from the racetrack that day, Duan Xinning had been feeling downcast, eating poorly, and staying locked in her room without going anywhere. 

Zhi Lan was worried that if this continued, it would take a toll on her health.

Lin Ting’s visit today was not by chance—Zhi Lan had secretly sent someone to invite her.

Zhi Lan explained everything in detail to Lin Ting and pleaded, “Seventh Miss Lin, please try to comfort Third Miss. If she continues like this, her health won’t hold up.”

What else could have caused Duan Xinning to lose her appetite? 

Lin Ting knew perfectly well. 

Her eyes darted around as she thought of a way to console her.

The one who tied the bell must untie it.

Lin Ting leaned in and whispered a few words into Zhi Lan’s ear. 

Zhi Lan hesitated, half-believing, half-doubting. 

“Will Third Miss be even more upset?”

Lin Ting was confident. 

“She won’t. Trust me. Your young lady will turn her sorrow into joy. You go ahead and take care of things—I’ll go in and talk to her.”

Zhi Lan agreed and stepped forward to push open the door. 

“Third Miss, look who’s here.”

Duan Xinning’s voice came from the inner room. 

“I don’t want to see anyone. Just tell Father and Mother to leave. I’ll go pay my respects another day.”

“Not even me?” 

A voice, tinged with a bit of disappointment, interrupted.

Hearing this voice, Duan Xinning’s gloom instantly lifted. 

She was overjoyed and quickly lifted her skirt as she hurried out. 

“Why are you here?”

Lin Ting countered with a question of her own. 

“Am I not allowed to come?”

Duan Xinning affectionately hooked her arm around Lin Ting’s and led her inside, whispering, “Of course you are. You’re welcome anytime.”

The maids serving Duan Xinning were quick-witted. 

Seeing that Lin Ting had arrived, they promptly brought out tea.

Lin Ting took a seat and glanced around the dimly lit inner room. 

The windows were shut, the curtains drawn, and the only source of light was candle flames. 

Not far away on the Luohan couch, there was a half-finished scented sachet.

On the sachet, a single black character was embroidered with golden thread. 

Lin Ting glanced at it and guessed that the missing stroke on the right side would form the character mo, meaning “silence”—the mo from Xia Zimo’s name.

Duan Xinning noticed her gaze and hastily grabbed a cloth to cover it.

A futile attempt to hide it.

Lin Ting teased, “Oh? I didn’t know you could make scented sachets. It looks quite nice—it’s almost finished, isn’t it? Who is it for?”

Duan Xinning fidgeted, her voice as soft as a mosquito’s buzz. 

“I… I just made it for myself.”

Lin Ting decided to stop teasing her. 

She uncovered the cloth, picked up the sachet, and got straight to the point. 

“Are you still mad at Xia Zimo?”

Duan Xinning snatched the sachet back and threw it onto the ground. 

Her eyes turned red as she vented all the frustration she had bottled up over the past few days. 

“He mocked you—that is not the behavior of a gentleman. I will never have anything to do with him again!”

Tao Zhu picked up the sachet and tried to return it to her, but Duan Xinning refused to take it. 

So Tao Zhu handed it to Lin Ting instead.

Lin Ting stuffed it back into Duan Xinning’s hands. 

“You’ve really misunderstood Xia Zimo. He had no intention of mocking me that day. He even apologized and explained everything to me afterward. I never took it to heart.”

Duan Xinning sat there in a daze, letting her maid wipe away her tears. 

But this time, she didn’t throw the sachet away. 

Instead, she absent mindedly traced the embroidered character with her fingers, looking a little incredulous. 

“He… apologized to you?”

“Yes.” 

Lin Ting took advantage of her moment of surprise and popped a sweet date into her slightly open mouth.

“Mm…” 

Duan Xinning bit down.

Lin Ting asked, “Is it sweet?”

The sweetness of the date reached her heart. 

Duan Xinning lowered her eyes, chewed a few times, and slowly swallowed. 

Then, she fed Lin Ting a date as well, visibly happier. 

“It’s sweet. You should have one too.”

Not long after, Zhi Lan returned, bringing with her a letter. 

“Third Miss, this is a letter that Xia Zimo asked me to pass on to you.”

Duan Xinning immediately stood up but quickly realized her reaction was too obvious. 

She glanced at Lin Ting.

Lin Ting didn’t want to interfere with the little couple’s heartfelt exchange, so she made a swift escape. 

“I just remembered I have something to do. I’ll be going now.”

Duan Xinning clenched the letter in her hand, reluctant to part. 

“Stay a little longer?”

“I really do have something to attend to,” Lin Ting replied, knowing that Duan Xinning was eager to read the letter but was too embarrassed to do so in front of her.

“Alright then. The Lotus Viewing Festival is the day after tomorrow—can you come with me to see it?”

She agreed without hesitation. 

“Of course.”

As Duan Xinning walked her out, Lin Ting casually brought up Duan Ling, hoping to fish for some information about him, scheming in her own way.

Beyond the hanging flower gate at the end of the long corridor, crossing a small water bridge, was the main entrance of the Duan residence.

Lin Ting vaguely saw a figure standing at the gate.

The young man’s dark hair was neatly tied, and he had striking features with a calm expression. 

His robes were wide-sleeved, secured with an elegant belt, and embroidered with simple yet refined patterns. 

He carried himself with a composed and tall stature.

It was Duan Ling.

Duan Xinning noticed him too and walked up the steps. 

“Second Brother, why aren’t you going inside?”

“Lord Duan.” 

Lin Ting greeted him formally.

“Seventh Miss Lin.” 

Duan Ling returned the greeting and then turned to Duan Xinning with a gentle expression. 

“I’m here to see Seventh Miss Lin.”

Duan Xinning was completely unaware of what had transpired between them or that Lin Ting had mentioned the assassin incident to him. 

She was puzzled. 

“Second Brother, you have business with Leyun? What is it about?”

Duan Ling replied, “It’s nothing urgent. I’ll explain it to you another time.”

Since he had put it that way, Duan Xinning couldn’t press him for an explanation. 

Even though Lin Ting and her second brother had their differences, she knew he wouldn’t harm Lin Ting, so she turned and went back inside.

Duan Xinning was simple-minded and didn’t overthink things. 

Tao Zhu, however, was the complete opposite—she was deeply suspicious of how they had suddenly become so close.

What had happened between them? 

She was uneasy.

Once Duan Xinning had walked away, Duan Ling looked directly at Lin Ting and spoke gently. 

“Would Seventh Miss Lin be willing to accompany me to the Beizhen Fusi?”

Tao Zhu was shocked. 

Why would he want her Seventh Miss to go to the Beizhen Fusi? 

In her mind, that place was infamous for people entering but never leaving, and the terrifying imperial prison that swallowed people whole.

Fearful, she tugged at Lin Ting’s sleeve. 

“Seventh Miss?”

Lin Ting reassuringly squeezed Tao Zhu’s hand. 

“It’s fine. Go home first. Tell the kitchen to prepare the roast chicken I like for dinner.”

Having the kitchen prepare her favorite roast chicken meant that she planned to return home for dinner, implying that she wouldn’t be detained at the magistrate’s office. 

Tao Zhu understood Lin Ting’s meaning but was still worried.

Summoning her courage, Tao Zhu asked, “Lord Duan, why does Seventh Miss need to go to the magistrate’s office?”

Duan Ling’s expression remained unchanged. 

“I simply need Seventh Miss Lin’s help with something. If she is unwilling, she is free to refuse.”

Lin Ting raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m willing. As the saying goes, helping others brings happiness. Tao Zhu, don’t overthink it. I’m not a criminal, so don’t be so nervous. Just wait for me at home.”

At this point, Tao Zhu had no choice but to comply. 

Besides, Lin Ting didn’t look like she was being coerced.

Tao Zhu boarded the Lin family’s carriage. 

Lin Ting watched her leave, then turned and asked Duan Ling, “Lord Duan, what exactly do you need me at the Beizhen Fusi for?”

Lin Ting had no idea why Duan Ling had summoned her there. 

It was the first time he had actively sought her out, and her curiosity made her agree immediately. 

But just because she hadn’t asked earlier didn’t mean she wouldn’t ask now.

Duan Ling gave a faint smile. 

“Didn’t you say you remembered the voice of the person who conspired to assassinate me?”

“That’s right.” 

Lin Ting’s eyes flickered.

The truth was, she had completely fabricated the story about overhearing an assassination plot in the alleyway. 

She didn’t remember any voice—she was lucky she even remembered his voice.

Half an hour later, Lin Ting finally understood why Duan Ling had brought her to the Beizhen Fusi.

He wanted her to listen to voices—one by one.

Now, she was seated behind a standing screen in the main hall with him. 

Outside the screen stood several Jinyiwei guards.

This all stemmed from her claim that one of the conspirators was a Jinyiwei officer. 

That part, at least, was true—after all, the author had written it into the story, so how could it not be? 

But the problem was, Lin Ting had no idea which one it was.

The book had only stated that there was a traitor among the Jinyiwei, who was eventually exposed and executed by Duan Ling. 

Now, watching the shadows of the men moving outside the screen, Lin Ting felt as if she were sitting on needles. 

What if she slipped up?

She hadn’t expected Duan Ling to act so swiftly and decisively—gathering the Jinyiwei together and making her listen to their voices. 

Was he not afraid of alerting the traitor?

She discreetly pinched herself, forcing herself to calm down. 

This was the ultimate test of her acting skills.

To ease her nerves, Lin Ting observed the room around her. 

This hall was likely a resting area for the Jinyiwei on duty. 

It was well-equipped with tables, chairs, and writing materials—brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones.

Most notably, the place was spotless, carrying a faint trace of sandalwood incense. 

The scent was cool and refreshing, subtly pleasant… 

It reminded her of Duan Ling’s scent—clean and crisp.

Lin Ting rubbed her nose and shifted her gaze away from him.

On the southern wall hung a strange, abstract painting. 

From a distance, it looked like an ordinary ink painting, but up close, it resembled a deep black eye staring right at her.

Creepy, she thought.

On the northern side, behind a bamboo curtain, was a chaise lounge for resting. 

A thin blanket and pillows were neatly stacked, and beside them were several books. 

It was clear that the owner of this hall had a meticulous personality.

After scanning the room, Lin Ting couldn’t help but glance at the eerie painting again.

Just then, Duan Ling’s voice sounded softly in her ear, pulling her back to reality.

“Seventh Miss Lin.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough for her to hear. 

“We’re about to begin.”

“Alright.” 

Lin Ting turned her face slightly, her gaze pausing briefly on Duan Ling’s thin, faintly red lips.

He seemed to sense it and glanced at her, at which point she, just like the previous two times, casually looked away as if nothing had happened.

Damn it, she cursed inwardly. 

I just can’t break my habit of staring at my ‘mission target’.