Bao Ji (Lia)
"Call the Queen. Tell her I would like to taste the new tea together," I instructed my maid.
"Yes, my lady," she replied, bowing before leaving.
As I waited in my chamber, my thoughts betrayed me. The Emperor's hand around my wrist. The way his eyes had lingered on me.
No.
Stop.
I inhaled sharply. I needed time. Space. Distance.
Keeping myself out of his sight was the best option. If I didn't appear before him, everything would settle down. And this way, I could observe his relationship with Bao Si without interfering.
Yes.
This was smart. Strategic.
The Queen arrived not long after.
"Let's see if the tea is any good," she said as she stepped inside and sat across from me. My maid poured for us, and we both took a sip.
I blinked in surprise.
It wasn't too sweet. Not too bitter. Just right.
"The taste is fine," the Queen said thoughtfully. "But I will still stick to the bitter one."
"Be my guest," I replied lightly. "At least I won't have to share."
She smiled. "What are your plans for today?"
"Staying in. Doing nothing," I answered.
It wasn't a lie. Staying invisible was the plan. Though I didn't mention the part about carefully choosing paths where I wouldn't run into the Emperor.
"A lazy day," she said approvingly. "Clever."
The second day, I couldn't stay inside any longer. Without a phone, a laptop, or even a television, boredom was unbearable.
Suddenly, I craved ramen.
Back in the twenty-first century, I had cooked it once with Elena. The memory made me oddly nostalgic.
Before leaving, I grabbed my maid's sleeve. "Stay alert. If you see the Emperor coming our way, warn me immediately so we can avoid him."
She tilted her head. "Why is my lady avoiding His Majesty?"
That question made everything harder.
"Just do as I say," I replied, more sharply than intended. "Don't ask questions."
I hated speaking to her like that, but I didn't know how to explain myself.
I had her lead me to the kitchen. The Emperor would never come there.
The servants stared at me like I had lost my mind. I wanted to disappear, but I pretended not to notice. After a while, curiosity replaced embarrassment. The kitchen was nothing like modern ones. I had to adjust, and thankfully, the servants helped.
I spent almost the entire day there.
Nothing caught on fire — thank the heavens.
When it was done, I made the servants taste it, then prepared a bowl for the Queen.
As we reached her quarters, I heard voices. When I caught the words "His Majesty," I froze.
I signaled my maid to stop.
I hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but the walls were thin.
"How is concubine Ji doing?" the Emperor asked, his voice calm but distant.
"Why does Your Majesty ask?" the Queen replied.
"I haven't seen her since yesterday."
My breath caught.
"Perhaps she is busy," the Queen answered.
Busy avoiding you.
"Did I upset her somehow?" he asked. "Did she say anything?"
What?
"I don't believe so," the Queen replied.
Silence followed.
I quickly motioned my maid to hide. I didn't want to be caught.
Why was he asking about me?
No. Don't think like that.
Once he left, I stepped inside as if nothing had happened.
"I brought you something," I said brightly, placing the bowl on the table.
"What is this?" the Queen asked.
"Ramen. I mean, Noodle soup. Try it."
She hesitated, then tasted it — and her eyes widened.
"This is delicious," she admitted.
Relief washed over me.
After we finished, she asked, "How did you come up with this?"
"Secret," I said with a grin. "I'm just glad my hard work paid off."
"Hard work?" she teased.
"I made it myself."
"And the kitchen survived?"
"Hey!" I protested. "I can cook. Enough to survive, at least."
She laughed — then suddenly asked, "Why are you avoiding His Majesty?"
My smile vanished.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
"I'm not," I finally said.
A lie.
"Are you sure?" she pressed.
"Yes," I replied too quickly.
"He is concerned," she said quietly. "He thinks he upset you."
"He didn't," I said truthfully.
"Many women would kill for that kind of concern."
"I know," I replied, forcing calm into my voice.
Before she could continue, I excused myself and left.
On the third day, I went for a walk in the garden. The weather was perfect.
Then my maid came running.
"His Majesty is coming this way with Bao Si."
"Turn back. Now," I said.
We fled like our lives depended on it.
Back in my chamber, I felt victorious. Three days, and my plan was still working.
Yet… a quiet sadness crept in.
I missed seeing him.
His gaze. His presence. His hand.
Stop.
Later, my maid returned with news.
"The Emperor spent only thirty minutes with Bao Si before sending her away. The servants say he was agitated."
Agitated?
Why?
It couldn't be because of me.
On the fourth day, while I worked on needle embroidery, my maid burst in again.
"My lady!"
"Breathe first," I told her.
She did, then spoke quickly. "Today was worse. He shouted at officials, nearly punished some. He refused to see Lady Bao Si entirely. When she tried to visit, he became furious. Everyone is terrified."
I sat frozen.
Part of me felt triumphant. Bao Si's hold was weakening.
But another part… worried.
Could this really be because he hadn't seen me?
No. Impossible.
"Perhaps he simply woke up in a bad mood," I said weakly.
"Maybe my lady should visit him," she suggested.
"Me?" I scoffed. "I'm not that important."
Was I lying to her — or to myself?
Later, she returned again.
"I saw His Majesty pass by," she said.
"And?"
"He glanced toward your chamber… then left."
My chest tightened.
Did he really miss seeing me?
I had grown used to his presence, and now its absence felt wrong.
But that didn't mean anything.
I had watched too many dramas.
Yes. That must be it.
And yet…
On the fifth day, something happened.
Something no one expected.
Something that finally broke my stubborn resolve.