Fu Yunхi's rерlу wаs still etchеd in his mеmоrу tо this day. Hе rеmemberеd how that usuаllу аlооf аnd cold-fаced royal unclе hаd smiled slightlу, with a wаrmth аkin tо mеlting icе, аnd uttеrеd оnly thrеe words: "She is finе."
Fu Yunхi rarеly praisеd anyоne. Thоugh thеsе thrее wоrds, "Shе is fine," said nоthing sрeсifiс, thеy сarriеd а profоund sеnse оf indulgence. Аt the time, the Сrоwn Рrincе naturally thоught his immоrtаl-like rоуаl unсlе hаd beеn bеwitchеd. Yet аfter todаy's оrdеаl, he sееmеd tо understand a littlе.
If nothing else, from beginning tо end, Han Yаn had not shеd a singlе tеar. Еven her entire expression remained steady and composed. Having spent so many years in the palace, the Little Crown Prince had seen women's tears more than any other expression—seductive tears, aggrieved tears, resentful tears, pitiful tears. But tears had never appeared on Han Yan's face. In a situation like today, any other woman would likely have panicked. Yet she did nothing of the sort, calmly finding a place to hide instead. Being with her seemed to make even him feel more steady and composed.
He couldn't help but glance at Han Yan. Her hair was tousled from the crowd's jostling, looking disheveled and comical. Her fair complexion still bore a childish innocence, clearly that of a girl not yet grown. Why, then, did she have such deep, gem-like eyes that sparkled yet seemed unfathomable? Even while hiding in the cave, her clothes stained with dirt and her posture awkward and uncomfortable, her demeanor exuded an innate nobility. Like a born princess or noblewoman—calm, decisive, self-assured, and striking.
The Little Crown Prince was at a loss for words, momentarily stunned. This Xuan Qing Prince Consort, whom he had never paid much attention to, now seemed remarkably similar to his royal uncle. Equally dignified and unapproachable, equally looking down upon everyone, equally composed in the face of life and death, amidst countless dangers.
Suddenly, Han Yan turned her head and made a "shh" gesture at him, pressing her ear against the cave entrance to listen carefully to the sounds outside.
It was... the sound of hoofbeats and people talking. The content of their conversation sent a chill down Han Yan's spine.
"The head of the Great Dynasty's Crown Prince—finding it this time will earn us a great reward," came a middle-aged man's voice.
"Who knows where he's run off to? The carriage is right here," another replied impatiently.
Han Yan had no idea how many people were outside, only that the footsteps were chaotic yet seemed to follow a peculiar rhythm, suggesting they were well-trained. Her heart tightened with anxiety. The Crown Prince also held his breath, not daring to make a sound. The footsteps drew closer and closer, almost reaching the cave entrance. In his nervousness, the Crown Prince accidentally bumped into Zhuang Hanming, who, touched on his wound, couldn't suppress a soft groan.
In the silence, the groan sounded piercingly loud. Han Yan's heart clenched. The Crown Prince turned his head, his eyes filled with panic. The narrow cave entrance suddenly felt crowded. And after a brief pause, the footsteps headed straight toward them.Discovered. That was the only thought in Han Yan's mind. If they fell into the hands of those men, none of the three of them would survive. Their target was the Crown Prince. Han Yan had no desire to become a sacrificial offering for the Crown Prince, but at this moment, it was not up to her. If they were discovered... if they were discovered... She gritted her teeth, suddenly turned around, and with a swift motion, tore off the Crown Prince's outer robe, draping it over herself. The Crown Prince was stunned, not yet comprehending what was happening, when he saw Han Yan turn back and give him a deep look. In her gaze was a plea—was she begging him to take good care of Zhuang Hanming? There was helplessness, but more than that, a resolute determination. Immediately after, Han Yan rushed out. Clad in the golden robe, her hair disheveled and her face obscured, her stature was nearly identical to the Crown Prince's. The moment the pursuers saw her, they mistook her for the Crown Prince and immediately gave chase.
Inside the cave, the Crown Prince remained frozen in place, huddled where he was. Zhuang Hanming lay unconscious beside him. He bit his lip, forcing himself not to cry out. For some reason, his heart ached unbearably.
On the eastern hills of the city, Han Yan had once loved to play here. She was intimately familiar with every blade of grass and every tree, giving her a natural advantage in the terrain. Whether it was because the pursuers were unfamiliar with the area or because they were foreigners, they were led by Han Yan on a wild chase. She deliberately chose winding paths and rocky, treacherous areas, managing to buy some time.
Now, she was passing through a grassy plain. The terrain was flat, and the men with blades charged forward, on the verge of capturing her. But Han Yan deftly dodged them. At the same time, she felt her body sink. Realizing something was wrong, she instinctively tried to struggle free, only to find herself sinking deeper.
It was a swamp.
Han Yan turned her head. The burly men, in their panic, stared at her in horror. In the face of such swamps, human strength was pitifully insignificant. They had never experienced such a situation before. Han Yan's long hair covered her face, and the men could only see her fair chin slightly raised, a cold, mocking smile curling at the corner of her lips. This Little Crown Prince of the Great Dynasty seemed far more troublesome than they had imagined.
Another group of pursuers quickly caught up from behind. Han Yan immediately sprinted forward, though she knew this was merely a delaying tactic. When a cliff appeared ahead, she stopped.
Behind her was a bottomless abyss—there was no retreat. Slowly, she turned around, tightening her grip on the last Plum Blossom Thorn she carried.
Only then did she see clearly that the people before her were indeed not from the Central Plains. They must be the Western Rong. The Western Rong did not recognize the Little Crown Prince. Seeing Han Yan dressed in the glittering golden robes of the Crown Prince and unable to make out her face, they mistook her for the Crown Prince.
Han Yan stood quietly in place, motionless. She did not panic and flee, nor did she cry out and beg for mercy. Instead, she slowly allowed a faint smile to grace her lips. Like a lone beast cornered in a hopeless situation, she was preparing for one final strike.
This gave the men before her pause. This Little Crown Prince was far too cunning. Earlier, at the swamp, she had already dealt them a heavy blow. Now, the Little Crown Prince of the Great Dynasty stood before them with a smile on her face. Who knew what devious plan she might be hatching? Though they were eager to act, not a single one dared to step forward.One against seven, Han Yan calculated silently in her heart. No matter what, there was no chance of winning on her side. Yet these men would certainly not let her go.
Just then, one of the burly men finally couldn't hold back any longer. With a loud roar, he lunged at Han Yan. She couldn't dodge in time and was caught squarely by him. The man clamped his hand around her throat and seized her arm with the other. Han Yan had nowhere to escape, and for a moment, she was held in his grip like a helpless chick.
"The Crown Prince of the Great Dynasty is nothing more than this!" The man laughed triumphantly, never expecting to subdue his opponent so easily. Han Yan hung her head, her slender arms dangling weakly.
"Haha, look at this—the royal Crown Prince has such delicate skin and tender flesh. These little arms are even fairer than the women of our Western Rong." After saying this, he reached out to brush aside the disheveled hair from Han Yan's forehead. When he saw her face clearly, he froze. Then he swallowed hard. "This Little Crown Prince looks just like a young girl. It'd be a shame to let him die just like that. Why not let me have some fun..." With that, he threw Han Yan to the ground and began to undo his own belt.
OpenNovel