After the boy told her of how many birds he had, Hua Rui took the tiny cage, holding it as it were made of stars. "Thank you... what's your name?"
The boy hesitated.
"...Ah Li,"he said softly. Not the name of a Prince, but a child just like her.
"Ah Li" she repeated softly.
She smiled, small and genuine."I'm Rui"
Before more could be said, Wanwan returned in a panic. "There you are! My lady, you can't wander off like that."
She quickly bowed to the boy, mistaking him for a young noble.
"I'm sorry for the trouble, young master."
"No trouble," he said politely.
Then he watched as the girl was whisked away, her little hand clutching the birdcage tightly. "Miss you shouldn't..."Her maid seemed to be worried and was scolding her for wandering around for too long.
"Ok"she pouted.
The guard stepped beside him. "Your Highness… was that wise?"
"Call me Young Master when we're out"
"Yes Your..Young Master"the guard replied.
The Prince stared after her, thoughtful.
"She was nice. Not afraid of me."
"You'll likely never see her again," the guard said.
But the Prince only smiled faintly.
"Maybe."
The market bustled with life as children laughed, street vendors called out their wares, and bright fabrics fluttered in the wind like flags of freedom. It was one of the rare days the young Fourth Prince, Wei Li—his first real trip outside since being locked away.
"Your Highness, what are you doing here?"shouted a woman who seemed like a palace maid. "Uhh...I wanted to eat sugar figurine."stuttered the Prince.
His little hand clutched a sugar figurine shaped like a lion, eyes wide as he glanced around, trying not to show how amazed he really was.
Beside him walked his gentle palace maid, Aunt Xu, who had cared for him since his banishment. Her presence was warm, a steady shadow beside the boy who had already learned not to speak much.
"Your Highness," she said softly, "we should return before sunset."
He nodded once, quietly obedient. Even at five, he knew the rules of his exile. The Cold Palace had no place in the light.
They were halfway through the outer garden path that led back to the Cold Palace when it happened.
The wind shifted.
It brought with it something sharp. Wrong.
A figure dropped from a nearby rooftop with the grace of a hawk. His face was covered, his blade already drawn.
Assassins.
"Protect the Prince!" shouted the guard flanking the boy.
Steel clashed against steel as a second figure emerged from the trees. Screams erupted, and the tranquil evening shattered.
Wei Li stood frozen for one heartbeat. Then another. The candy lion fell from his small hands and shattered on the ground.
Aunt Xu grabbed his shoulders. "Your Highness! Run!"
"No," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Why are they attacking?"
"Go!" she screamed, pushing him behind a tree.
But it was too late.
One of the assassins broke past the guards and lunged toward the prince. The child flinched, wide eyes locked on the glint of the blade aimed at his throat.
"Stay away!" Aunt Xu cried, leaping between them.
The blade pierced her stomach.
Time slowed.
Blood soaked her dress like ink dropped on silk. Her body hit the ground with a thud that echoed through the trees.
"Aunt Xu!" the boy screamed, dropping to his knees beside her.
She tried to lift her hand to his cheek, her eyes filled with panic—not for herself, but for him.
"Run, my little prince," she whispered. "Please—live."
More guards came rushing from the direction of the palace. The surviving one from Hua Jin's escort had blown the emergency whistle. Reinforcements clashed with the assassins in a blur of violence.
The boy didn't move.
He knelt beside her body, unmoving, as the snow around them turned red. His small hands curled into fists. His breath came out in short, uneven gasps.
A guard knelt beside him. "Your Highness, we must go. It's not safe."
He didn't answer.
"Your Highness—!"
"She died because of me," he whispered.
The guard froze.
"This was supposed to be a good day. Just one good day…"
His voice cracked. His eyes, however, were dry. Too dry.
Something inside him had cracked—but not in a way anyone could see.
The Emperor heard of the attack within the hour. The reports were delivered with shaky voices and too much blood on the page. And though his son Wei Li was unhurt, the Emperor's expression darkened as he read the final lines.
'The child did not cry. He simply sat beside the maid's body until she turned cold.'
That night, back in the Cold Palace, Wei Li sat alone.
He held a small wooden lion in his hand—something he'd found near a broken stall during the market trip. Aunt Xu had told him to keep it for luck.
He turned it over once.
Twice.
Then flung it at the wall.
The wood splintered.
He stood up, his face calm.
Dead calm.
"If the world wants to kill me," he said aloud to the shadows, "then I'll learn to kill first."
Far away in the General's Manor, a young Gu Hua Rui sat in the courtyard watching the stars. Something made her look up sharply. Her chest tightened.
"Mama," she whispered, tugging on her mother's sleeve, "do you feel that?"
"Feel what, Rui'er?"
"Like something's broken."
Her mother laughed gently, brushing her daughter's hair back.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. Everything's alright."
But Hua Rui wasn't convinced.
Somewhere in the empire, a little prince had learned what the world truly was.
And he would never forget it.