The business at Nanshan Pavilion was as bustling as ever.
The waiters were so busy that their feet barely touched the ground, and the restaurant was filled with a continuous stream of diners.
The air buzzed with voices, and laughter echoed everywhere.
Lin Ting sat in a private room facing the opera stage, occasionally glancing across.
On the stage, the opera performer wore heavy makeup, singing in a melodious and captivating tone.
The lyrics were deeply moving.
Duan Ling sat to her left, his hand resting casually on the table, fingers barely brushing the wooden surface.
His eyes were fixed on the performer, his expression focused, as if nothing could disturb him.
This was the second time Lin Ting had voluntarily approached him to talk.
Duan Ling patiently waited.
She didn’t keep him waiting long.
As the performer on stage sang the third line of lyrics, Lin Ting turned slightly, picked up the freshly brewed tea the waiter had prepared, poured him a cup, and pushed it toward him.
“Lord Duan, please have some tea.”
Duan Ling looked at the cup of tea on the table and suddenly recalled the delicate, fragrant pastry Lin Ting had given him when they were children.
He was allergic to walnuts—eating them would cause rashes, vomiting, and in severe cases, even breathing difficulties or death.
And the pastry she had given him just happened to contain walnut powder.
The coincidence was too much.
The aroma of the tea was gentle and elegant, yet Duan Ling merely looked at it without taking it.
“I’m not thirsty.”
Lin Ting didn’t mind.
She took a sip of tea herself to moisten her throat, then leaned in mysteriously and whispered, “The important thing I wanted to tell you is—someone wants to kill you, Lord Duan.”
Her breath brushed against his ear, carrying a faint feminine fragrance.
Unconsciously, he turned his face slightly away and calmly asked, “Someone wants to kill me? Who? And how did you find out, Miss Lin?”
From a book.
Lin Ting paused for a moment before saying, “I found out by accident.”
The original novel did mention that Duan Ling was attacked, but he would survive, so she hadn’t planned to interfere at first.
However, since she had no other excuse to get close to him and complete her mission, she had to use this as a stepping stone.
Duan Ling, dressed in a light robe with a relaxed demeanor, showed no trace of panic or concern.
“By accident?”
Lin Ting racked her brain.
“I don’t like staying cooped up at home and often go out wandering. This morning, I passed by a small alley and overheard a conversation. They mentioned you.”
The table between them wasn’t large, and when she leaned forward, a few strands of silk ribbon from her hair fell onto Duan Ling’s hand.
The slight tickling sensation made him discreetly pull back.
“And then?”
Lin Ting didn’t notice his subtle movement.
“So I stopped to listen. They were discussing the plan to assassinate you,” she continued with enthusiasm, making it sound completely real.
Unknowingly, she had leaned in even closer, speaking almost into his ear.
“But they didn’t say exactly how they would do it, so I don’t know their full plan.”
Duan Ling stood up, walked to the window, and lightly tapped the windowsill with his fingers.
He gazed at the opera performer singing in the distance, though his eyes seemed unfocused.
“Did you see their faces?”
“No. I was afraid of being noticed, so I didn’t dare get closer.”
After saying this, Lin Ting’s eyes drifted toward his waist.
Seeing that Duan Ling had turned his back to her again, she couldn’t help but practice some imaginary hugging gestures in his direction, testing different ways to embrace him to see which would be the most suitable and effective.
Duan Ling was a man, with a different body structure from her maid Tao Zhu, and his waist was at a different height.
The most critical issue was that Tao Zhu wouldn’t resist—but Duan Ling would.
She couldn’t use Tao Zhu to practice.
She had never hugged a man before, and the thought of embracing Duan Ling felt strangely awkward.
What Lin Ting didn’t realize was that there was a silver bell hanging near the window.
It was there for the private room guests to ring when they wanted a different performance, and the waiter cleaned it every day until it gleamed like a mirror.
Duan Ling’s gaze shifted from the opera performer to the silver bell.
In the reflection of the small bell, he saw Lin Ting behind him, making strange gestures in his direction.
Her hands were moving in the air as if testing different positions, changing her stance every now and then.
But it didn’t look like she was trying to kill him.
A moment later, through the bell’s reflection, he saw Lin Ting tiptoe forward stealthily by two steps.
Without a sound, he lifted his hand and gripped the embroidered spring-blade knife at his waist, though his gaze remained fixed on the bell.
Then he saw Lin Ting’s expression turn conflicted.
She hesitated for a moment, then tiptoed backward again.
Duan Ling loosened his grip on the embroidered spring-blade knife.
Lin Ting, who had returned to her seat, still had the appetite to eat a small pastry.
She remained oblivious to the fact that if she had taken just one more step forward, the ever-suspicious Duan Ling would have attacked her—narrowly avoiding disaster.
She felt that her secretive, seemingly indecent gestures toward Duan Ling made her look like some kind of pervert coveting his beauty.
It was too bizarre.
Clearing her throat, she asked, “Lord Duan, do you believe what I just told you?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“There is no reason for Miss Lin Qi to lie to me. I believe you,” Duan Ling said, no longer looking at the silver bell.
He turned his gaze back to her, smiling.
“Thank you for telling me. I will send people to investigate.”
Lin Ting quickly avoided eye contact and volunteered, “I can help you.”
“You? Help me?”
As the performance on stage concluded, their private room was left with only their voices.
Lin Ting said, “I may not have seen their faces, but I remember their voices. I can help you find them.”
Worried that Duan Ling might misunderstand and think she was questioning his abilities as a Jinyiwei officer, she quickly added, “I don’t mean to say that you can’t handle them, just that open attacks are easier to guard against, while hidden threats are harder to prevent.”
After saying so much in one breath, Lin Ting felt thirsty again and kept eyeing the teapot.
Duan Ling stepped away from the window and returned to the table.
His slender fingers gracefully lifted the teapot—every movement as refined as a painting, pleasing to the eye.
He poured her a cup of tea and placed it beside her hand.
Lin Ting, feeling “flattered,” accepted the cup but, after staring at it for a few moments, did not drink it.
She didn’t quite trust drinking something he had poured for her…
At that moment, she suddenly realized why Duan Ling hadn’t drunk the tea she had poured for him earlier.
Duan Ling gazed at her leisurely and said in a soft voice, “Miss Lin Qi, your actions today have truly made me see you in a new light. By doing this, you are also putting yourself in danger. Aren’t you afraid they might harm you?”
Lin Ting lied without hesitation, “As long as I can help Lord Duan, it’s worth it.”
He looked at her for a long moment.
“How do you plan to help me find them? If they remain hidden in the dark, you won’t hear their voices. Even if you remember them, what good will it do?”
“You can take me with you whenever you leave the Beizhen Fusi or the Duan residence. They won’t stay in hiding forever. One of them is a Jinyiwei officer—he will have to act soon. Seven days, just seven days. Once they show themselves, we’ll know.”
Duan Ling was puzzled.
“Why seven days? Did they say they would act within seven days?”
Feeling guilty, Lin Ting let out a soft “Mm.”
She knew from the original novel that Duan Ling would be attacked soon, but she didn’t know the exact date.
The seven-day limit came from her mission deadline—she just wanted to leave herself some extra time.
After a moment of silence, Duan Ling finally agreed.
“Alright, then for the next seven days, I will trouble Miss Lin Qi for her assistance.”
His voice at that moment was light and gentle, without any aggression.
It was even pleasant to the ear—under normal circumstances, it might have evoked a sense of tenderness.
But to Lin Ting, it felt like she was being stared at by a cold, venomous snake, one that might slither closer at any moment, licking her skin before sinking its fangs into her and ending her life.