The temple's courtyard had grown quiet after Miss Ruyin's departure. Only the steady hum of cicadas and the distant chime of a temple bell broke the stillness. Little Water sat cross-legged beside one of the weathered stone pillars, its surface cracked and lined from centuries of wind and rain. The scent of incense lingered faintly, drifting from the prayer hall, mixing with the earthy aroma of the fields beyond.
He leaned back lazily, eyes half-lidded but ears alert, waiting for someone to come fetch him for the promised work. His fingers traced absent patterns in the dust beside him, each swirl spiraling into another.
Time passed. Shadows lengthened. Still, no one came.
Then—
A sudden whistle in the air. Instinct took over. Little Water tilted his head just enough for the dagger to streak past, so close the cold metal brushed the fine strands of his hair. It struck the pillar behind him with a thunk, embedding deep into the old stone.
He didn't move for a heartbeat, only let out a slow breath. Then his voice rang through the courtyard.
"Come out. I know you're there."
Silence answered him.
He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing toward the tiled roofs surrounding the temple grounds. "Ohh… not one," he murmured, "but three people." A faint smirk crossed his lips. "Everyone, now you're caught. Will you come out, or shall I list your hiding spots?"
A moment later, the soft sound of boots on stone echoed, and from behind one of the temple's columns emerged a woman dressed entirely in black. A fine black veil covered her lower face, leaving only her eyes visible — eyes the color of deep amethyst, shimmering faintly in the waning light.
She walked with the silent confidence of someone accustomed to danger.
"I knew you weren't an ordinary man," she said, her voice cool but not hostile. "But I didn't expect you to dodge my dagger… and discover all of us."
"Judging by your clothes," Little Water replied with lazy precision, "you're either a guard or an assassin. From your voice, you're in your twenties. From your stance, you're the senior of the other two. And from your tone… you're not here to kill me. This was a test." He tilted his head. "Am I right?"
Her eyes curved slightly above the veil, as if she were smiling. "You're sharper than most. Yes — you passed." She gave a shallow bow. "I am Qianya, guard and maid to Lady Ruyin. We were sent to fetch you to her estate. But first, you'll need to be cleaned and dressed properly. Come with me."
Little Water cast a glance upward toward the temple's roofline. "And the other two? Won't they come down?"
"They work in the shadows," Qianya said simply. "You need not concern yourself with them."
They left the temple and stepped into the street, where the late afternoon crowd still bustled — merchants calling prices, children weaving between carts, the faint scent of fried dumplings drifting from a corner stall.
After several minutes, they stopped in front of a clothing shop. Inside, bolts of silk and cotton hung from the walls, arranged by color like a painter's palette. The air smelled faintly of dye and fresh linen.
"Choose something suitable," Qianya instructed.
Little Water wandered through the racks, his fingers brushing over the textures — rough hemp, smooth silk, thick wool. His eyes settled on a white scholar's robe, elegant yet understated. Without hesitation, he took it.
They walked a short distance further to an inn that offered private baths. Steam drifted lazily from behind a screen as Little Water entered the bathing chamber.
The water was warm, scented faintly with herbs. He stripped off his dirtied clothes, letting them fall in a heap. As he washed, the blood and dust of the past days swirled away in red-brown clouds, vanishing into the drain.
When he emerged, he wore the scholar's robe, but he had altered it — loosening the front, removing an inner layer so that a hint of his collarbone and chest showed through. His damp hair clung in dark strands to his face and neck, droplets trailing down his skin.
When he stepped into the hallway, the inn's serving girls froze mid-step. One dropped a tray.
"Who… who is he?" one whispered.
"Is he a royal?" another murmured behind her sleeve.
Qianya arrived just in time to catch the wave of gossip. She followed the direction of the girls' stares — and saw him. For a brief moment, her eyes lingered too long on the water glistening along the lines of his chest.
Her jaw tightened. She strode forward, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him away.
In the common room, the whispers followed them.
"Isn't that Miss Ruyin's guard?"
"Has she taken a lover?"
Qianya ignored them all, her boots clicking sharply on the cobblestones outside.
They walked for ten minutes before stopping in front of a large complex lit by lanterns — their warm glow reflecting off lacquered wood and painted eaves. The sign above read: Beauty Pavilion.
Little Water noticed Qianya sneaking another sidelong glance at him and said lightly, "You can look at me openly, you know. No need for secret glances."
She stiffened, the faintest blush touching the tops of her cheeks. "Who is looking at you?" she snapped.
He chuckled softly. "Then where are we now?"
"This," she said with a touch of pride, "is where you will work. Lady Ruyin owns the Beauty Pavilion. It is not only a house for beauties, but also a dance hall and an inn. The building on the right is Lady Ruyin's personal chamber. On the left, you'll find the storage facility and the living quarters for guards and workers. Behind us is the backyard garden with a tea chamber. And at the far back, there's an old, broken house no one uses."
As they spoke, the door opened and a small boy of about five ran out, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Qianya.
"Big Sister Qianya! You're finally here!"
Qianya's expression softened, and she knelt briefly to hug him. "Little guy, I'm on duty now. Will you behave yourself?"
The boy pouted but nodded reluctantly, his gaze shifting curiously to Little Water.
----To be Continued---