The palace gates loomed before Hua Lian, their towering silhouettes framed against the bleeding hues of dawn. Her breathing was ragged, every step a silent war between will and intense pain.Beneath the wide sleeve of her robe, her fingers pressed against the hastily wrapped bandage around her wrist — a shallow cut, but it burned with the bite of fire, each throb echoing the memory of the night's near-death encounter.Her mind kept replaying those cold, glacial blue eyes… the way the moonlight slid across his blade as if it too feared him. His movements had been inhuman — precise, merciless, each strike calculating not just to kill, but to corner prey.
And prey… that was exactly how she had felt.
She had fought not to win, but to survive. Every dodge had been a desperate heartbeat. The cut on her wrist was a scar not of failure, but of the terrifying truth — he had allowed her to escape.
Hei Lang's blade had grazed her flesh by a cruel whisper of fate. She had escaped only because the shadows favored her that night, slipping away before his inhumane killing strike could land. But the wound, though not deep, pulsed like a drumbeat in her bones.
She had no time to tend to it properly. She had returned to the palace through the servants' passage blending in the darkness before the guards began their rounds, her blood soaking into the linen wrappings. The copper scent clung to her, no matter how she washed her hands. By morning, the pain had sharpened into something that made every movement a hidden trial.
Today of all days, she was to serve Crown Prince Li Yuyan his tea. It was inevitable, if she didn't go it would raise suspicion.
Hua Lian forced her features into calm neutrality, hiding the torrent of agony. The porcelain teapot felt heavier than usual in her hands as she stepped into the Crown Prince's study. His bronze mask caught the morning light, his expression unreadable.
She knelt gracefully, pouring the tea with practiced precision. But in that moment, Li Yuyan's sharp gaze caught the faint bulge of cloth beneath her sleeve. The snow-white bandage peeked from her wrist when she tilted the teapot.
"What happened to your hand?" His voice was cool, detached, but his eyes lingered for a bit longer than usual.
Hua Lian's lips curved faintly, the picture of a loyal maid unconcerned. "It was a kitchen mishap, Your Highness. It's nothing."
Her excuse was flimsy, yet she delivered it with the kind of quiet conviction that discouraged further questioning.
Li Yuyan leaned back in his chair. He waved a hand dismissively. " I don't want wounded hands soiling my tea.Take the day off." His tone was indifferent, his eyes cold, as if her presence — or her pain — meant little.
She bowed and withdrew, grateful for the dismissal, though her heart still raced.
Neither of them voiced the thoughts clawing at their minds.
Li Yuyan's mind replayed the chaos of the previous night, the shadowy figure of Yue Ying slipping through his grasp. His blood simmered with the determination to catch her — to unmask her once and for all.He was boiling with rage but sipped his tea quietly to calm himself.
Hua Lian, behind her serene mask, burned with her own resolve. She would never again cross Hei Lang's path. She would stay low, invisible, until she uncovered the truth she needed.
And here, in the palace's gilded silence, predator and prey pondered on how to achieve their aim— unaware they were in the same place. Not distant from each other.