"Dad... Dad."

"What is it, dummy?"

"Smells... like booze."

"Tch."

After leaving Beast Rat Street, Baiyi took Xiao Ling’s hand. Qiu Qiu sat clumsily atop his head, dazed and slow. They needed breakfast—it was still too early to return to the Imperial Palace. So Baiyi led them to a quiet spot to eat slowly.

"Young Master, I don’t think ‘Qiu Qiu’ is a good name for her," Xiao Ling said soon after they sat down. She’d held this thought for a while. Though just a maid, the name felt awkward to keep silent about.

"Name!" Qiu Qiu heard her. She waved her pale, tender little hands excitedly, patting Baiyi’s head. She hated how casually he’d named her something so plain. She wanted to show her displeasure.

"Stop squirming, brat. I know." Baiyi sighed, trying to think of a better name. But his mind drew blank—he’d joined the army at ten, spending five years surrounded by burly men and cold steel. Culture? He’d never had the chance. Now, he was stuck, frustrated.

"Young Master, I have an idea. How about ‘Lian Ye’?" Xiao Ling offered gently, though she felt unworthy to suggest anything.

"Lian... Ye?" Qiu Qiu—no, Lian Ye now—loved it. She clapped Baiyi’s head happily.

"Tch, brat. Think my name’s trash? Showing off now?"

"Milk... milk!" Lian Ye ignored him. She crawled down, plopped onto his lap, and tapped a wooden bowl of milk with her spoon. *Feed me. Don’t bother me.*

Baiyi shifted slightly under her. Kids were always this willful, right? Just let her be. But her tiny hips wiggled as she drank, making him uneasy. *Is she doing this on purpose?* He hoped it was just his imagination. She was only a child.

"Tch, this kid... Wait, uh—you..." Baiyi finally remembered he didn’t know his maid’s name. He’d asked her to rename Lian Ye without even knowing hers. That felt rude.

"I’m Xiao Ling, Young Master." She answered quickly to spare him embarrassment.

"Right. Xiao Ling." The name felt familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

"Hmm." Xiao Ling’s heart ached seeing his confused frown. She was used to being forgotten by others. But when someone she cared about—her master, of course—forgot her, it stung. *Just because he’s my master. Nothing else.*

"Why does ‘Lian Ye’ sound like it’s from Heavenly Lotus?"

"Well, your name feels like it’s from there too. I thought they’d match." Heavenly Lotus was an ancient nation on this continent, unlike the war-forged Great Empire. It valued peace, culture, and tradition. Baiyi, just a general, didn’t care much for that. "Whatever. I don’t get it. But... Xiao Ling, right?"

"Yes, Young Master." She nodded, eyes flickering with hope he might recall her. Even a small memory would do.

"Dad... Dad!"

"What now, brat?" Lian Ye’s shout cut him off. He had to focus on her.

"Done!" She thrust the empty bowl up, pouting with her round cheeks.

"So demanding, you little pest."