Ji’an’s mind completely flatlined.
The suffocating tension inside the carriage was so thick, so heavy, that it felt like the air itself was turning to liquid.
She was going to be numb and paralyzed.
Sothing wasn’t right.
Why was he talking so ambiguously? What does he an? Wangchen is her sworn brother. What kind of feeling was this pal talking about?
The danger radiating from him wasn’t the threat of violence; it was the threat of complete, consuming consumption.
He slowly lowered his head, his nose brushing against the soft skin of her jawline.
He inhaled deeply, drinking in the scent of her sweat, the spices, and the underlying, intoxicating sweetness of her Yin Qi that not even the illusion locket could entirely mask from a predator staying this close.
"I could give you the world," Yichen murmured against her skin, his right hand slowly lifting from the cushion, his long fingers trailing agonizingly lightly up her arm, heading toward her waist. "You would never have to cook for ungrateful dogs again. You would never have to wait for an ice block to thaw. You would only have to look at ..."
Ji’an closed her eyes, a panicked, involuntary whimper escaping her lips as his fingers brushed the edge of her belt.
She was completely trapped in the velvet cage, hypnotized by the sheer, overwhelming force of his predatory allure.
He tilted his head, his lips hovering a milliter above hers, his breath mingling with her own.
"Third Brother? Your Highness Prince Xiao? Do you guys want an orange?"
The voice was tiny, innocent, and completely oblivious.
The spell shattered with the force of a physical blow.
Yichen froze, every muscle in his body locking up. Ji’an’s eyes flew open, wide with shock and terror.
They both slowly turned their heads.
Sitting in the corner of the carriage, rubbing sleep from his silver-flecked eyes, was Lin Xuan.
The thirteen-year-old was holding out two perfectly peeled, segnted halves of a bright, cheerful orange.
He looked at the two of them, the Prince pinning his older sibling to the wall in a highly compromised, incredibly intimate position, with the absolute, unadulterated purity of a child who had no idea what sexual tension was.
"I found them in the provision basket," Xuan mumbled, yawning widely. "They are good for the ridians and your health."
For three agonizing seconds, no one moved.
The only sound was the rain hamring on the roof and the frantic, deafening thumping of Ji’an’s heart.
The aura of murder that suddenly erupted from Xiao Yichen was so profound, so devastatingly dark, that the temperature in the carriage actually dropped.
He looked at the orange, and then he looked at the boy holding it, his dark eyes promising a slow, painful, and highly creative execution.
Ji’an didn’t hesitate.
Capitalizing on Yichen’s montary distraction, she shoved him with all her might, ducking under his arm and scrambling across the carriage with the desperate speed of a gazelle escaping a cheetah.
She practically threw herself onto the bench next to Xuan, grabbing the boy and pulling him into a tight, protective hug, snatching the orange from his hand.
"Thank you, Xuan! Oranges are fantastic! I love oranges!!" Ji’an babbled frantically, peeling a segnt and shoving it directly into her mouth, nearly choking on the juice. "Wow! So citrusy! So refreshing! What a great, tily snack!"
Yichen remained frozen by the far wall, his hands still pressed against the velvet cushions where she had just been.
His back was to them, his shoulders rising and falling with heavy, ragged breaths.
Ji’an chewed her orange, her eyes wide with lingering panic and distrust.
As she looked at Yichen’s back, she saw him slowly turn his head. He looked over his shoulder at her.
The mask was completely gone.
Ji’an had expected to see his anger; she had expected to see the cold, calculating fury of a sociopath whose ga had been interrupted by a silly little guy.
But what she saw made her blood run cold for an entirely different reason.
In Xiao Yichen’s dark eyes, there was no anger.
There was only a deep, agonizing, bottomless resentnt.
It was the look of a starving man watching a feast he was forbidden to touch.
It was a look of such profound, devastating loneliness and desperate yearning that it completely stripped away his royal invincibility.
He was hurting. He was hurting because she had run away from him.
He was hurting because she was clinging to her little brother instead of him.
He was hurting because she belonged to the Ice Demon, and not to the Prince.
Ji’an stopped chewing. Her heart gave a painful, terrifying lurch.
Ji’an realized, a cold sweat breaking out across her forehead as the horrifying truth settled into her bones. ’It’s not just manipulation. It’s not just a ga to annoy Wangchen. He actually, genuinely wants to...?’
The realization was a live grenade that could explode at any mont.
If she acknowledged it, if she showed him even an ounce of pity, or addressed the agonizing vulnerability in his eyes, the carefully constructed plot of the universe would shatter.
She couldn’t deal with the genuine emotions of a sociopath. She was barely surviving the platonic facade of a yandere!
If Yichen went off the deep end, it wouldn’t just be a rivalry; it would be a bloodbath.
So, Lin Ji’an did the only thing she could do. She chose the path of absolute, willful, cowardly ignorance.
She looked away.
Even if Xiao Yichen was... she couldn’t pretend, or act with him in this ga. All she could do was desperately pray that he would give up on his thoughts soon, whatever they may be.
She purposefully broke eye contact, turning her attention back to Lin Xuan, ruffling the boy’s hair and forcing a loud, obnoxious laugh about a joke the kid hadn’t even made.
"Eat your orange, Xuan," Ji’an said loudly, making sure her voice carried a hint of signal to stop things from going further to Xiao Yichen.
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