After the crown prince left he made sure I fainted again by some medicine that I don't have any idea of. I woke up hungry.
Not the gentle kind—the sharp, hollow ache that reminded me I was not a guest here.
A tray was placed by the window: warm porridge, steamed buns, fruit arranged too neatly. Imperial food. The kind meant to show *care*.
I didn't touch it.
The Crown Prince entered shortly after, his expression controlled, almost patient—as if I were a child throwing a tantrum rather than a woman he had kidnapped.
"You should eat," he said.
I didn't look at him. "I'm not hungry."
"That's a lie."
"So is this concern," I replied calmly.
He sighed and moved closer. "You won't survive long if you don't eat."
I finally looked up at him.
"I won't die if I don't eat for one day," I said flatly.
He paused. Then, slowly, he said,
"You think Jin Wei will find you in just one day?"
I nodded. Without hesitation. Without doubt.
"Yes."
Something dark flickered across his face.
"I won't let that happen," he said quietly.
"I will make sure he never has you."
The words weren't anger—they were a cold, quiet declaration.
By noon, the Yang residence reported me missing. No ransom. No witnesses. No forced gates.
Too clean.
Jin Wei received the notice like it was a small inconvenience. But the absence of struggle, of chaos, told him everything.
"Show me the movement logs for the city since dawn," he said quietly. "All guards, all carriages."
Hours passed. Patterns emerged.
A carriage passed unchecked.
A guard shift altered.
A palace seal reused too precisely.
Imperial.
Jin Wei's lips pressed into a thin line. The Crown Prince had taken his time, but not his chances.
By evening, the capital buzzed with rumors:
*"The Yang lady ran away with a lover. She abandoned her wedding to Jin Wei."*
*"Such shame on the family!"*
Inside the estate, I refused every tray of food, my chest tight with anger and helplessness. The Crown Prince only watched, unflinching.
"You're destroying yourself," he said.
"I can survive." I replied.
He smiled, dangerous. "You are doing this because you have confidence that he will come to find you. Then I will make sure he never does."
And he did.
He spread the first seeds of lies: that I had run. That my loyalty had already shifted. That I was gone, and Jin Wei could not have me.
Jin Wei did not care for rumors.
But he cared for *me*.
By nightfall, he had traced the movements of the Crown Prince's men. Every carriage, every shift, every gate left unchecked.
The trail led him to one likely location: the Crown Prince's private estate just outside the city—a place designed for secrecy, heavily secured, where the abducted could be held without anyone noticing.
Jin Wei's jaw tightened. He didn't hesitate.
"Prepare my horse," he said.
"Tonight, we move."
Because the Crown Prince thought he could hide her, thought he could play his games.
He was wrong.
And Jin Wei never let anything escape his reach.