"Whether I live or die is none of your business," the man said arrogantly, turning his head away.
The woman pouted, "It's not like anyone cares about you. Anyway, I've already saved your life. From now on, it's up to you to decide your fate. I'm leaving!"
The woman waved casually and turned to leave without looking back.
The man stared blankly at her cheerful figure as she walked away.
This woman is so special. She has a kind of vitality and candor that he has never seen before. She is different from everyone else here, as if she comes from another world.
The man chuckled self-deprecatingly. How could he have such an absurd idea? Where was there another world? Wasn't this the dark, gray world beneath his feet?
A mountain wind blew, carrying a cold and indifferent chill. The man stood in the dilapidated and silent courtyard, as if he were the only person left in the world.
The woman's appearance seemed like nothing more than a dream.
It must have been... a dream.
Or perhaps she is a mountain spirit.
"Hey! Your Highness, someone's coming this way! Hide quickly!" A woman's anxious voice suddenly rang out.
The man looked up in surprise, his heart suddenly touched by something.
Within sight, the woman who had just been identified as an elf hurriedly ran back.
The charcoal on her face hadn't been wiped off, and combined with her panicked expression, it was somewhat comical.
The man actually smiled.
"Are you alright? Are you scared stiff?" The woman who ran up to him waved her hand in front of his face.
She glanced back anxiously, then pulled the man and ran towards the back of the house.
“It’s more dangerous to run around now. There’s a cellar behind the house. It’s a bit small, but it should be big enough for the two of us.”
The woman pulled the man to the edge of the cellar, nudged him to go down first, and said, "Hurry up, don't dawdle."
The man obediently jumped inside.
"This is too small, it can't fit me." The woman looked dejected, but then she adopted a look of resignation.
"Never mind, I'll pretend to be a villager living in the mountains, that should be enough to get by." The woman bent down to close the cellar lid.
"Get down, I can fit you in." The man reached out his hand to her.
The woman hesitated, "It's too crowded, I—"
Before she could finish speaking, the man grabbed her ankle and pulled her down, causing her to fall into the cellar and land on top of him.
The cellar was too small, so they could only throw things at people.
The woman touched her chest in pain, while the man's ears were so red they were practically dripping blood.
"Your arms are long, seal the hole," the woman squeezed out of her throat.
The man turned his head away without making a sound and reached out to put the lid on.
For a moment, the cellar was pitch black.
The two of them were so close together that they couldn't see each other's eyes.
With vision completely blocked, only touch, smell, and hearing remain, but this makes one even more sensitive.
He could clearly feel the softness of the woman's body, smell the milky scent on her skin, and hear her soft breathing.
Neither of them spoke; they simply remained silent.
Two hours later, the woman's breathing became even, and she had long since fallen asleep.
The man frowned slightly. Was she too carefree? How could she fall asleep in this environment? Wasn't she afraid he was a bad person?
Ha, he was never a good person to begin with.
"Wake up." The man patted the woman's cheek.
The woman grunted twice and opened her eyes. "Did they leave?"
The man said coldly, "Nobody comes."
"Huh?" The woman didn't believe it. "Then let's wait and see."
The man stretched out his long arm and lifted the lid, causing a beam of light to fall, which stung his eyes.
"Go up."
Before the woman could react, the man lifted her up and then flipped himself up.
"Why aren't they here? I really saw several masked men dressed in the same clothes." The woman looked around, unaware of the man's cold expression.
The man suddenly met a pair of eyes in the shadows. Without saying a word, he understood the person's meaning just through their eyes.
He twitched his fingers, which were hanging by his side, signaling the person in the shadows to step back.
"Maybe they've already come, but they made so little noise that I didn't hear them," the man explained calmly.
"Alright." The woman looked away and turned to the man. "You should leave now, I'm leaving too."
The man gazed intently at her features. "What's your name?"
The woman raised her eyes haughtily, "Before asking someone's name, you should introduce yourself first. That's called politeness, okay?"
The man paused for a moment, then said, "Xiao Chen."
The woman raised her eyebrows. "Southward migration month."
"Write." The man handed his hand to the woman.
The woman paused for a moment, then grasped the back of his hand and wrote her name in his palm with her fingertips.
The man felt something was off as the soft fingertips slid across his palm.
"Okay." The woman let go of his hand and opened her own hand. "Write yours."
The man frowned slightly. "You don't know me?"
With the crown prince's name added, his identity couldn't be clearer.
The woman asked curiously, "You are the Crown Prince, but I don't know your name. Are you famous?"
There was no trace of lying in the woman's eyes. The man was silent for a while, thinking that she probably really was a country girl who had never seen much of the world, so it was reasonable for her not to know him.
He lowered his eyes and wrote his name in her palm.
"Oh, I see." The woman nodded knowingly, her expression turning serious as she looked at him again.
She looked around and said solemnly, "You must never tell anyone that you've seen me. My name, my appearance, and all my information must not be revealed, especially not to the people of Dongling. Don't let them know about me. Please don't betray me, considering I saved you."
The man raised an eyebrow. "So you're a fugitive?"
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