Threads 113-Intermission 3

Ling Qi held the stencil perfectly still and tried not to think about how close Xuan Shi was standing as he carefully marked down the outlines of characters in ink.

It helped that she still didn’t see it. He hardly looked at her, keeping his gaze fixed on his work, but that was probably just professionalism. But even before they had started with her paying much closer attention, she hadn’t seen any sign that she was being looked at in that way. Were his social arts simply that much superior to hers?

<Ling Qi, your first realm mother noticed,> Sixiang chided. <What do you think?>

Ling Qi kept her thoughts from her face, but she was frustrated. Bao Qian was one thing. She didn’t expect him to be rude, she had a handle on him, and he was here first and foremost for business, even if he was trying to build a personal rapport with her. Senior brothers like Ruan Shen and Liao Zhu were just playfully teasing. There was no actual interest there. In fact, she suspected in Liao Zhu’s case that he was simply helping her build composure in a subtle way.

For the life of her, she could not figure out a similar motivation for Xuan Shi. Relations with Zhengui perhaps, but that didn’t explain being interested in her.

She trusted her mother’s words, and Sixiang’s confirmation made her doubt that her mother was being fooled. She just couldn’t see it.

“This section is complete,” Xuan Shi said calmly, withdrawing in a rustle of cloth. He stepped away quickly, giving her space.

Ling Qi removed the stencil and laid it on the table with the others. Today, they were just marking out the necessary characters to allow for examination and adjustment before the etching and carving began. “Which one is next?” Ling Qi asked.

Xuan Shi carefully examined the wall and the already inked characters. “Plates nine and seventeen.” It seemed that even his flowery speech gave way to simplicity when describing business.

Ling Qi nodded to herself, quickly selecting the stencils he had described. They were made of thin and flexible metal, a qi-inert alloy that she had not heard of before. Moving back to the wall, she glanced down at the items. “Where should I place them?”

“Nine, first. Here,” Xuan Shi replied, tapping his finger on the wall. She placed the stencil, and he eyed it critically. “Left three, down two.”

Ling Qi nodded, shifting the stencil left three centimeters and down two. She was silent as he began to carefully ink in the characters. She tried to pay close attention to the way the blocks of characters aligned with the previously done sections, but it was hard to concentrate.

She needed to figure out a way to talk to him.

The trailing hem of his sleeve brushed her arm. Ling Qi kept herself from flinching. His eyes were still focused on the wall. Ling Qi did the same.

Behind them, the door slid open, and almost in unison, they both twitched violently. The stencil shifted, and Xuan Shi’s brush went off course.

Ling Qi hurriedly turned and found herself staring at the pale and wide-eyed face of one of Mother’s girls. She held a tea tray in her hands, trembling.

It was only then that Ling Qi noticed the mist curling around the floorboards and the distorted shadows dancing in the corners. The light was dim, the air heavy, and a faint ghostly tune mingled with the sound of surf on a stony shore.

They were both on edge. Somehow, that helped her somewhat calm her nerves. With an effort of will, she dispersed her own domain manifestation and put on a smile. “Ah, the tea is ready? Thank you. Just set it on the table. We will serve ourselves.”

“Yes, Lady Ling,” the girl squeaked. To her credit, she managed to look like she wasn’t hurrying as she set things out.

Xuan Shi stood stiffly, still facing the wall.

“Why don’t we take a break for a moment, Sir Xuan?” Ling Qi asked.

“A good suggestion, Miss Ling,” he replied. “Better to avoid fatigue of the mind now than correct errors later.”

Was her discomfort the source of his? She thought she had been hiding it well, but she probably shouldn’t doubt the senses of a ducal scion.

She still didn’t know how to approach this.

In the back of her mind, Sixiang stirred, and memories of a temple stirred, along with the whisper of pages flipping. Ling Qi frowned. Certainly, if he had invited her out then, there had to be some intention at the time, but he had been as surprised and horrified as her at the ending. She was certain that his reaction had been genuine. What would…?

It struck her.

As she poured their tea, the servant having scurried out already, she asked, “What were you expecting to find at the end of our last expedition together?”

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She could practically feel him grimacing behind his collar. “Miss Ling, this one can only apologise again for the appearance of…”

“I’m not asking for that,” Ling Qi said, keeping her eyes down as she prepared the tea. “I mean, you did know it was supposed to be something from your books, right? You said something about the events, but you were evasive.”