The Escape plan

Imperial Palace, The Golden Serpent Empire,

The fragrance of incense lingered in the hallways of the Cold Pavilion, where the morning sun painted golden patterns across polished wooden floors. This place, nestled in the farthest corner of the imperial palace, was where Ling A'Xian, the seventeenth prince of the unsteady Qinghe Kingdom, resided not as a guest, but as a hostage of peace.

Outside, guards stood stationed at precise intervals, their posture rigid, expressions cold. They had long learned that the young hostage was well-behaved, never causing trouble. He smiled when spoken to, bowed when necessary, and never stepped out of line.

But what they failed to notice, however, was the slight curve of his lips whenever they let their guard down.

A'Xian sat by the open window, a cup of warm tea in hand, gazing lazily at the distant banquet hall where preparations were in full swing. Tonight, the Emperor's Grand Banquet would take place, an event meant to display the empire's might and prosperity after victory on political treaties. Nobles, ministers, and foreign envoys would gather under one roof to feast, flatter, and plot.

And of course, a hostage prince had no place among them. Even though he was a typical 'political insurance' in their hands.

At least, that was what they believed. But he didn't care.

A'Xian traced the rim of his teacup with his thumb. He knew how this night would unfold- dancers would sway beneath the glow of lanterns, wine would flow freely, and the court would drown in false pleasantries.

He had planned for long. He had waited a month. Tonight, he would finally escape.

--

The Cold Pavilion was a gilded cage, but a cage nonetheless. Unlike the grand halls where the Emperor resided, this secluded corner of the palace was quiet, the guards disciplined but complacent. More importantly, they were human- prone to habit, susceptible to greed, and ignorant of the whispers that flowed through the palace walls.

A'Xian had spent the past month observing, listening, and calculating.

He had learned which corridors were rarely patrolled, which servants were careless, which doors had loose hinges. He had even memorized the changes in the palace schedule, noting when guards rotated shifts and when they lingered too long at checkpoints.

More importantly, he had created an opportunity.

A few days ago, he had bribed a low-ranking servant who was a young boy eager to escape his miserable fate, into leaving behind his uniform and identification token.

That boy was probably halfway to another province by now.

A'Xian smirked as he retrieved the thin jade insignia hidden in his sleeve. The seal bore the mark of the palace servants, granting him access through lower-ranked entry points.

But even with this, slipping past the palace gates was nearly impossible.

Which was why he had another plan.

For months, he had studied the noble households that frequently visited the palace, one of them being Duke Yin's delegation. The Duke's estate was well-known for its sprawling connections, and his entourage often traveled in large numbers, with carriages loaded with gifts and supplies.

His escape route? Blending in with the departing servants.

His escape had to be flawless. A hostage fleeing from the palace of the most powerful empire in the land? If he failed, he wouldn't be imprisoned. He would be executed.

So he waited. For the perfect moment.

And the banquet was that moment.

The banquet hall was the key, it was the only place where the inner and outer palace paths intersected. If he could make his way toward the Hall of Eternal Radiance, he could slip into the groups of Duke Yin's servants preparing to leave.

A'Xian took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the plan settle over him.

He had only one chance.

--

As night fell, the imperial palace transformed.

Golden lanterns flickered along the corridors, silk banners cascaded in the evening breeze, and the scent of roasted meats and aged wine drifted through the air. The Hall of Eternal Radiance was alive with laughter and music, nobles draped in embroidered robes, high-ranking generals sipping wine in deep conversation.

But beyond the grandeur, the true court was at work, smiles veiled schemes, and every gesture concealed a hidden meaning.

A'Xian smirked. "Tonight, I'm taking my first step out of this golden cage."

From the shadows of a side corridor, A'Xian now disguised in a plain servant's robe, adjusted the cloth wrapped around his head, obscuring his distinct noble features.

Step one: Look unimportant.

With a practiced slouch, he carried an empty tray like any other palace servant. His expression was neutral, his steps unhurried. He knew the eyes of noblemen did not see lowly servants; to them, he was invisible.

Moving carefully, he passed the first checkpoint leading toward the outer courtyard. The insignia in his sleeve was his lifeline, he flashed it briefly to the stationed guards, who barely spared him a glance before letting him through.

Step two: Follow the rhythm.

A'Xian kept pace with the other servants carrying food and wine toward the banquet hall, blending seamlessly into the organized chaos. He maneuvered through the crowds, not too fast, not too slow, keeping his head down but his senses sharp.

Step three: Slip into the right group.

The outer courtyard was bustling with activity. Carriages lined the entrance, horses stamped at the ground impatiently, and attendants hurried back and forth, loading gifts and supplies onto carts. Duke Yin's servants, dressed in deep blue robes, were among them.

A'Xian's gaze flickered across the scene. He spotted a group of younger attendants gathering near the rear of a supply cart, waiting for instructions.

That was his opening.

Casually, he adjusted his tray, stepping toward the cluster of servants as if he belonged there. The moment he reached them, he slowed his breathing, listening for the right cue.

The lead servant, an older man in his forties glanced around before muttering, "Once we load the last crate, we move. Keep up."

A'Xian nodded along with the others, blending in as they shifted into position.

Almost there.

Just a few more steps and he would be—

"Halt."

An absolute single word.

A'Xian's blood ran cold.

The servants turned, bowing to the supreme owner of that voice. And along with them, he turned around with his head already bowed ninety degrees.

He sneakily glanced up, masking his tension with carefully crafted confusion.

From the shadows of the pavilion stood a tall figure, dressed in black and gold, his presence commanding even in the dim lantern light.

It was him. The damned crown prince.

His gaze piercing and unreadable, as he regarded A'Xian with unnerving stillness. His eyes held no emotion, yet A'Xian knew he had already lost.

The air around him seemed to still, the faint hum of distant conversations dulling under the weight of that voice.

With deliberate ease, the crown prince took a slow step forward.

And A'Xian knew—his escape was over before it had even begun.