Chapter 161: The Old Xuan
Lian began with her hands inside a folded sheet. She smoothed the cloth once, found a crease that offended her, and folded it again with more care than the bedding probably deserved. Su Qingyue waited from her seat near the low table, hands tucked inside her sleeves, cold aura quiet around her.
"He was young," Lian said at last. "That sounds obvious, but it is the first thing I remember. Young Master Xuan is a few years older than me, and he had already been in the sect before I was assigned here. I grew up around Silent Peak more than I grew up anywhere else."
Qingyue listened without interrupting.
"As Lady Qingyue knows, Young Master Xuan was adopted by the patriarch," Lian continued. "But most people did not treat him as adopted in any lesser way. Patriarch Lin never did. To him, Young Master Xuan was his son. That was enough for the sect to follow on the surface."
"On the surface," Qingyue repeated.
Lian lowered her gaze to the bedding. "There were people who accepted him. There were also people who always looked at him as someone brought in from outside. A stranger wearing the family name."
"I noticed," Qingyue said. "His brother, for example. In Yuncheng, I also saw how the first wife treated him." Her voice remained even, though she paused after that. "Forgive me. I should not speak too freely of someone who is no longer among us."
Lian’s hands stopped.
For a breath, she looked very much like a maid deciding whether the truth was worth the risk. When she looked up, a small smile touched her mouth.
"Do not worry, Lady Qingyue. I will not say anything if you do not."
Qingyue’s eyes shifted to her.
Lian’s smile became a little braver. "To be honest, I did not like her either. Madam Mei was... difficult."
"Difficult."
"That is the respectful word."
Qingyue’s lips curved by a fraction.
Lian returned to the sheet with a steadier air. "Lin Kai has changed since Yuncheng. It is hard for him, and I do not think it will become easy soon, but he has changed. Madam Mei, however..." She shook her head once. "She was unbearable."
The honesty escaped so plainly that Qingyue let out a soft laugh.
It did not last long, but it warmed the room more than the sun had managed.
"Then tell me," Qingyue said. "What was little Xuan like?"
Lian seemed to think about that carefully.
"He was proud," she said. "Not cruel. Never that. But proud, yes. He had talent for the sword very early, and people noticed. I think that was one of the reasons the patriarch adopted him in the first place. Young Master Xuan trained a great deal. More than people knew. More than was probably necessary."
"Only you saw?"
"I was here." Lian moved toward the shelf and began placing folded cloths inside by size. "Silent Peak was quieter then, but not dead. He trained in the courtyard until his hands split sometimes. When others saw him, he already had the result. They did not see the hours spent to archive that result."
Qingyue turned her face slightly toward the open doorway.
Outside, steel hummed through the morning. Xuan was training even now, repeating whatever invisible path he had chosen for himself.
"So he was always like this."
"In some ways." Lian pushed one stubborn fold flat with her palm. "In others, no."
The room thinned around that answer.
Qingyue looked back at her. "The accident."
"Yes." Lian’s voice softened. "Two years and a few months ago. One day, he was the young master everyone argued about. The next, he could not walk by himself. Using techniques was impossible. Qi would not obey him. His meridians..." She stopped, searched for a safer word, and failed to find one. "Everything collapsed."
Qingyue’s hands tightened inside her sleeves.
"The sect fell into chaos," Lian continued. "Patriarch Lin went to the capital looking for a cure, and he did not come back. Not for two years. They kept him there. Nobody said it that plainly, but everyone knew enough to be afraid."
"And Xuan?"
Lian’s fingers curled around the edge of the shelf.
"He had a bad time."
It was a small sentence for something that had clearly filled whole seasons.
"He was angry. Bitter. Sometimes he treated me without respect. He threw away food. Refused to eat. Locked himself in his room and would not even let light through the window. I would bring meals and leave with untouched bowls. I would open the shutters, and he would curse until I closed them again."
Qingyue did not speak.
"Many people stopped visiting," Lian said. "At first, they came because they wanted to show concern. Later, fewer came. Later than that, they spoke badly of him where servants could hear. Hard times show the second face of people."
The words carried no poetry. That made them heavier.
Qingyue watched Lian for a long moment.
"But you stayed."
Lian lowered her head. "I was assigned to him."
"You already told me that. It was not the whole answer then, and it is not the whole answer now." Qingyue’s voice remained calm. "Everyone gave him their back. You did not. That speaks well of you, Lian. May I call you Lian? It is your name, after all."
The maid blinked, clearly caught between proper etiquette and the strange firmness of being praised by the Frostmoon heir.
"Yes, Lady Qingyue."
"It shows loyalty. Real loyalty, not the kind people declare during banquets while their cups are full." Qingyue’s gaze moved over the room, the bedding, the repaired order Lian had begun carving from dust and old neglect. "You should be proud of yourself."
Lian looked down quickly.
Qingyue let the mercy of that pass before continuing. "I also heard you recently began making pills."
"Young Master Xuan discovered I had talent." Lian’s voice carried the same careful wonder as someone touching something precious for fear it might vanish. "I do not know how he saw it, or what he saw in me, but because of him, I was allowed to begin."
"Then why do you continue as a maid?" Qingyue asked. "An alchemist, even a beginning one, has advantages. It is not an easy path, and it is not a small thing."
Lian placed the last cloth in the shelf before answering.
"I stayed because I was assigned to Young Master Xuan," she said. "At first. But that was more than ten years ago. It is no longer obligation that keeps me here."
Qingyue waited.
"Young Master never truly treated me badly. Even during his worst days, when he was cruel from pain rather than from heart, I knew the difference. Before that, he treated me well. Since he recovered, he treats me better than before. Too well, perhaps."
"Too well?"
Lian gave a small, helpless smile. "He forgets I am supposed to be the one serving him. He gives me chances, resources, protection. If I left now, who would take care of him?"
Qingyue looked toward the courtyard again.
Lian added, more carefully, "I understand Lady Qingyue is here now. But you are his future madam, and someone of your rank should not need to do the things I am doing right now."
Qingyue rose from her seat.
Lian straightened at once. "Lady Qingyue?"
"I do not mind helping," Qingyue said. She crossed the room and took one side of the folded bedding before Lian could protest. "And if we finish sooner, we can continue speaking. I am enjoying this conversation."
Lian stared at her hands on the bedding as if the world had shifted without asking permission.
"Lady Qingyue, this is not necessary."
"I know."
Qingyue’s faint smile returned, pale and cool.
"But it is true," she said, smoothing the cloth with careful fingers. "This Lin Xuan is an unusual man."
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