The knock came soft but clear. Two taps on the wood. It broke the quiet of Yelan's small room like a stone in still water. She froze for a second. Her hand hung in the air, the half-wrapped cloth strip slipping from her fingers. It fell to the floor mat with a light pat. This smell... is it really him? No, wait. Why would he come at this hour? It can't be. Her mind raced. The air held that warm mix—ink and wood, with a touch of spice. Clean and strong. Not like any servant's. Not Maomao's sharp herb scent. But then...Maybe Obasama? No, I told her I needed rest tonight. And she doesn't smell like this. Not even close.
Yelan stood up slow. Her gray robe brushed the tatami mat. She walked to the door screen. Each step felt heavy. Her shoulder ached from the new bruise, those tiny silver spots like cold needles under her skin. But the smell pulled her forward. It grew stronger. Real. Him. Her heart started to beat fast. Like a drum in a festival, too loud for the quiet night. She reached out with her good hand. Fingers on the edge of the screen. She slid it open. A soft shh sound filled the space.
Moonlight from the hall poured in. It made a silver line on the floor. There he stood. Lord Jinshi. Tall and straight. His wide shoulders filled the doorway like a shadow come alive. He wore a simple dark cloak over his blue robe. No guards behind him. Just him, alone in the maids' wing. His purple eyes met hers. They looked soft in the low light. But sharp too, like he saw everything.
Yelan's eyes said nothing. Calm on the outside. But inside? Her heart drummed harder. She bowed her head a little. Just enough to show respect. "My lord," she said. Her voice stayed steady. "At this hour... has something happened?"
Lord Jinshi did not move at first. He just looked at her. At the loose bandage on her hand. The small red spot where blood had soaked through. Then his mouth turned up in a small smile. Warm, not like his usual lord's face. "No, nothing bad. I came to check on you."
Yelan blinked. Me?Her mind spun. "Me, my lord? I... I am sorry. I do not understand."
He stepped a tiny bit closer. The smile stayed. Soft. "Nothing to understand. I just wanted to see if our new palace healer is all right." His voice was low. Kind. Like talking to a friend, not a maid.
Her eyes went wide. New healer? Heat rushed to her face. She shook her head quick. "No, no, my lord. I am nothing like that. Just... I help when I can. That's all."
Lord Jinshi opened his mouth to say more. But Yelan took one step forward. Close enough to feel the warmth from him. Close enough that his scent wrapped around her like a soft blanket. She kept her voice low. Urgent. "My lord, please. Come inside. If someone sees you here... the wind will carry whispers. All over the palace by morning."
He froze. Just for a beat. Her step closer hit him like a wave. His heart started to race inside his chest. Fast. Like a horse in full run. He held his breath. Kept his face calm. Like always. A lord does not show surprise. But inside? It felt like the air had left the room.
Yelan felt it too. Her own step was too close. Too sudden. She backed up quick. One step. Two. Her cheeks felt warm. "I... I mean, so nothing looks strange. My lord, do not worry. No one comes to my room this late. Your face—your place here—it's safer inside. The hall is empty."
Jinshi nodded. Slow. He took one step in. Then another. The door screen slid shut behind him. Shh. The sound sealed them in. The room felt smaller now. Warmer. He stood there for a second. Tall in the low light. Yelan turned to face him. She moved forward a bit. "I am sorry, my lord. There is not much... I mean, no good chair or—"
Before she could finish, he moved. He folded his legs and sat right on the floor mat. Simple. No wait. No look around for something better. Just down, easy as if it was his own room.
Yelan stood still. Her mind went quiet with surprise. How? He is the lord of the rear palace. Men like him sit on silk cushions. With servants. But here... on the plain mat. No questions. No proud face. It made her chest feel full. Warm. This man—high and far—chose the floor. Like it meant nothing. Like being here with her meant more.
Jinshi looked up at her. His eyes soft. "I am sorry. I think I woke you. Or... disturbed your night."
Yelan shook her head. But then her eyes caught the room. The mess. The water bowl on the floor. Still half-full. The wet cloth next to it. Stained pink with old blood from her bandage. The jar of aloe gel open on the low table. Green cream smudged on the edge. Her half-done wrap lay crumpled where it fell. Herbs in small bags scattered like forgotten toys. The futon bed half-made, blanket bunched from her sitting. Oh no. It's all over the place. Like a storm hit.
She jumped a little. Moved fast to the bed. Picked up the blanket. Tried to smooth it. A laugh came out. Small. Silly. Like a child's. High and quick. "Ha... haha. Sorry, my lord. I was just... fixing this. It's not usually like—"
His voice cut in. Gentle but clear. "Does it still hurt? The hand. How bad is it?"
The words stopped her. Like a hand on her heart. They went deep. Cut right through. Her laugh faded. Her voice changed. Softer now. Smaller. Her eyes too—they got wet at the edges. Not tears. Just... feeling. He sees it. Not just the blood. The real hurt. Why? Why care like this?
Jinshi did not move. Just sat there. Watching her, waiting for the answers he asked for The room's smells mixed now. Her and His ink and wood. Like they fit. Quiet in the night.