Caged fox

Ji Haoyu's grip remained unyielding around his wrist, his fingers firm but not cruel, just enough to remind A'Xian that escape was not an option. The Crown Prince was watching him, golden eyes flickering like candlelight, their depths impossible to read.

Minister Zhao, on the other hand, was far easier to decipher. The man's face twisted into an expression of clear panic as he fumbled with his hood, failing spectacularly to act like he hadn't just been caught in the middle of something he shouldn't be involved in.

"Your Highness, I—I can explain..." Zhao stammered, voice cracking.

Ji Haoyu's smirk deepened, as if this entire situation was a delightful game. "Oh? Please do."

A'Xian clenched his jaw. He knew the moment he had been seized that Zhao was doomed. There was no way out for the foolish minister now, not with the Crown Prince standing before him like a predator indulging in a slow hunt.

"Speak carefully, Minister Zhao," Ji Haoyu continued, his tone almost amused. "After all, the Plum Blossom Inn is an interesting choice for a midnight chat, isn't it?"

The older man swallowed hard, his eyes darting to A'Xian, silently pleading for help. But what could A'Xian do? Any wrong step, any misplaced word, and he would only entangle himself further in this web.

A'Xian had miscalculated tonight. He thought he had a choice when he left the palace. He did not and Ji Haoyu had seen to that.

It didn't matter that the public was unaware of his status as a hostage. That was the beauty of Ji Haoyu's power. He didn't need the world to acknowledge it, he simply acted, and the world followed.

The whispers had already begun, fluttering among the market-goers.

"Who is that?"

"A lover?"

"That's Prince Ling from Qinghe, isn't it?"

"But why would he be outside the palace at this hour?"

The implications of their position- Ji Haoyu gripping A'Xian's wrist, standing close enough that their robes brushed were damning.

A'Xian forced his expression into neutrality, knowing anything he did now would be used against him.

Zhao's stammering grew more desperate, but Ji Haoyu had lost interest. His thumb lazily brushed against Weiran's pulse before tightening his grip.

"You and I will talk later, Minister Zhao," Ji Haoyu said, tone polite but final. "For now, go home. Reflect on your choices."

Zhao's shoulders sagged in defeat. He knew better than to argue. With one last lingering glance at A'Xian, he stumbled away, vanishing into the night like a man who had just glimpsed his own funeral.

A'Xian inhaled slowly, steadying himself. "You're being reckless," he murmured, voice quiet but sharp.

Ji Haoyu chuckled, finally turning his full attention on him. "Am I?"

"Everyone is watching."

"Let them."

The Plum Blossom Inn was quiet, its upper floors secluded from the bustling night market below. The red lanterns swayed gently by the window, casting flickering shadows across the wooden walls.

A'Xian stood rigid in the private room Ji Haoyu had secured, his hands bound behind him. The air inside was thick and suffocating with the scent of incense and something far more oppressive.

The Crown Prince leaned lazily against the polished table, his golden eyes glinting with amusement as he poured himself a cup of wine. Minister Zhao had long since been dismissed, stumbling out of the inn with a pale face and trembling hands.

But A'Xian was left behind.

A deliberate choice. Ji Haoyu hadn't dragged him here for interrogation. Not yet.

The silence stretched, taut as a drawn bowstring.

"Why so quiet?" Ji Haoyu finally asked, taking a leisurely sip. "You had plenty to say before, when you thought you could slip away unnoticed."

A'Xian remained still, his pulse steady despite the frustration surging inside him.

Ji Haoyu smiled, set the cup down and took a step closer.

A'Xian tensed, instinctively shifting back, but Ji Haoyu was faster.

A hand caught his jaw, tilting his face upward with effortless ease. The grip wasn't bruising, but it left no room for defiance either.

"You left the palace at midnight," Ji Haoyu murmured, his breath warm against A'Xian's cheek. "Met with someone. Held evidence in your own hands." His thumb brushed against the parchment still clutched in A'Xian's fingers. "And yet, you expect me to believe you're innocent?"

A'Xian's lips parted slightly, but he said nothing.

It wouldn't matter. Ji Haoyu's power didn't require justification.

The Crown Prince studied him, eyes dark and unreadable. His fingers slid lower, tracing the curve of A'Xian's throat. "No response?"

A'Xian turned his face away, his bound hands clenching behind his back.

Ji Haoyu exhaled a quiet laugh. His hand moved, fingers curling around the nape of A'Xian's neck in a warm, firm, and steady grip. The deliberate slowness of his movements sent a shiver down A'Xian's spine, though he refused to react.

Because any reaction would only make things worse.

Ji Haoyu leaned in, close enough that his breath ghosted against A'Xian's lips.

"You're mine to deal with, you know," he murmured. "That was always the agreement."

He murmured and before A'Xian could twist away, Ji Haoyu closed the remaining distance.

The kiss wasn't gentle. It was a kind of statement.

A'Xian wanted to scoff, to throw out some cutting remark about Ji Haoyu's inflated ego, but his tongue so quick in any other situation, felt heavy in his mouth.

Ji Haoyu tasted of wine and power. A'Xian pressed his lips together, refusing to part them, refusing to give Ji Haoyu even an inch.

But the Crown Prince was nothing if not patient.

His free hand trailed lower, gripping A'Xian's waist with casual possessiveness. The shift in balance forced A'Xian to steady himself against the heat of Ji Haoyu's body.

When Ji Haoyu finally pulled away, his golden eyes gleamed with satisfaction. He released him with a slow, deliberate movement, stepping back just enough to let the tension settle between them.

A'Xian swallowed hard, his breath slightly uneven. His mind screamed at him to move, to resist, to spit something in Ji Haoyu's face that would wipe that satisfied smirk away.

"Say whatever you wish when we return to the palace," Ji Haoyu said lightly, brushing his sleeves as if nothing had happened. "For tonight, though, you'll stay here. With me."

A cold weight settled in A'Xian's chest.

The scent of wine, the firm press of hands against his waist—it should have disgusted him. It did disgust him. Didn't it?

He wasn't supposed to be this still. He wasn't supposed to feel his own breath hitch, however briefly.