A Pillow to the Face Is a Valid Response

After the dramatic trial, the palace guards escorted Yao Yao to a specially prepared guest chamber.

Apparently, breaking an ancient magical artifact earned you a private room with silk sheets, a fruit platter, and...zero freedom.

Yao Yao lay beneath thick blankets, arms folded stiffly under the covers like a burrito. The air smelled faintly of roses and overpriced wax. Yet, despite the comfort, she couldn't sleep.

Not after what had happened.

Not after she had, quite spectacularly, broken a centuries-old summoning portal.

But it wasn't guilt that kept her awake. It was irritation. And confusion.

Why had it collapsed? Why her?

She tossed under the covers. Once, then again. As she was about to try a third dramatic turn—

She felt a faint presence in the air, followed by footsteps, soft and slow.

She didn't need to open her eyes.

Of course, it was him.

She could practically feel the smugness enter before he did. The Crown Prince of Aria. That silver-tongued menace with perfect hair and eyes. And he wasn't trying to hide his presence. Perhaps, Yao Yao thought his hobby was sneaking into rooms at odd hours to visit proper ladies.

Well, not that she was one, anyway.

Yao Yao's lips twitched in irritation, but she stayed still. Her breath remained steady, and she kept her expression as neutral as possible.

Let him think she was asleep. Maybe he'd get bored and leave.

Unfortunately, this was Rong Xi.

Of course he didn't leave.

He entered without a sound, strolling in like the room was his. Approaching her bed, the boy leaned lazily against the bedpost and watched her.

Silently. Studying.

Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, but the tension in her face gave her away completely.

His lips curled.

"…You're pretending to sleep, aren't you?"

There was no reply.

Yao Yao stayed perfectly still, teeth grinding behind her lips, determined to out-stubborn him.

Still, there was no response. Rong Xi raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Well then… perhaps I was mistaken," he sighed, his voice low and thoughtful. "Maybe the portal collapsed for a very ordinary reason."

Her brows twitched—barely.

Rong Xi's grin widened.

"Maybe," he mused lightly, "it was the chant."

Her heart skipped.

Don't you dare—

"I am a very cute girl," he recited slowly.

Her hands clenched under the covers.

"I am so adorable…"

A small vein pulsed in her temple.

"…How could any of you not want me…"

Her jaw clenched.

"Please, spirits, come to me…"

Heat climbed her neck. She was going to murder him.

And then—

"Come. To. Mommy."

Yao Yao exploded upright like a spring released. "YOU EVIL LITTLE—!!"

She grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at his face.

Rong Xi caught the pillow effortlessly, laughing out loud.

Another pillow came flying.

He ducked.

"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!" she shouted, hurling with zero aim and even less dignity.

He dodged easily, clearly enjoying himself.

"I was ignoring you!" she yelled, her hair wild, cheeks flushed. "WHY COULDN'T YOU TAKE A HINT?!"

"You ignored me first," he said smoothly, leaning back casually against the bedpost. "I had to return the favor."

"You were watching me that closely?!"

"You're a terrible actor," he teased, his eyes twinkling. "You twitched four times."

"I'll twitch your face!"

Now standing on her bed like a very indignant warrior, she grabbed another pillow, arm raised mid-throw—

When a polite knock interrupted.

Perfectly timed.

She froze.

"My Lady?" came the guard's voice, muffled but clear. "Is everything alright?"

Yao Yao didn't respond. She kept her breath steady, though she was still burning from irritation.

A second later, the door creaked open.

The guard's eyes widened as he took in the scene: the Crown Prince casually standing beside her bed, Yao Yao still poised with a pillow mid-swing. His gaze darted between the two of them, confusion etched across his face.

Before the guard could speak, Rong Xi raised his hand calmly with authority. "Leave us be."

The guard, momentarily stunned, quickly bowed without a word. His face flushed as he shut the door quickly behind him, retreating into the hallway.

Yao Yao stared at the closed door, her grip loosening. The pillow dropped slowly to her side as she sat back onto the bed. The room felt oddly quieter now. The absence of the guard was somehow louder than his brief intrusion.

Rong Xi's smirk had softened, his eyes no longer held any mischief.

"You're ridiculous," she muttered, letting the pillow fall completely as she slumped back onto the mattress.

Rong Xi arched a brow. "You do realize," he said, tone mock-threatening, "that throwing pillows at the Crown Prince is technically treason?"

Yao Yao blinked, then her face deadpanned. "I'm already under arrest. You think I care about pillow assault charges?"

Rong Xi laughed, clearly entertained. "Oh? No fear at all?"

She folded her arms. "Go ahead. Send me to jail for throwing pillows. I'll start a rebellion in the laundry room."

His lips curved, but the amusement in his eyes faded into something quieter. He studied her for a long moment.

"You're not afraid of me?" he asked, softer this time.

Yao Yao hesitated.

Was she?

No.

Not really.

Perhaps not in the way others were. Not like other noble kids who bowed too quickly or avoided his gaze. Maybe it was because she had the soul of a forty-year-old… or maybe it was just because Rong Xi was irritating.

It wasn't hate, either. Not quite. It was more like… Annoyance?

Yes. Persistent, low-level irritation.

He felt like a mosquito, with a silver tongue and a knack for draining the life from every moment.

And yet, beneath that…

She wasn't sure.

She crossed her arms. "I'm not afraid of you," she said firmly. "I just don't like talking to annoying people after bedtime."

Rong Xi raised a brow. "And who decided I'm annoying?"

"I do. Loudly. In my mind. All the time."

He burst into laughter, unguarded.

"You're strange," he said, still grinning. "Most girls scream or curtsy when they see me."

"I'm not most girls."

"Clearly not."

A moment of silence passed. Comfortable, almost.

The earlier chaos faded, and Yao Yao clutched the blanket's edge, pulling it close, her face still faintly pink from earlier embarrassment.

Then, after a pause, she spoke again. Quietly.

"…It wasn't my fault. The portal collapsing. It wasn't me."

It came out softer than she meant. Not defiant, she was just tired.

Rong Xi didn't answer right away. His gaze lingered, the usual playfulness in his eyes dimming. He remembered the resonance she had, he was sure as well, there was definitely something off about the situation. Though, no one could say exactly what it was.

Still, he chose not to press further. For now, curiosity about this strange girl was the only reason he is here.

"Mm," he said finally. "Then perhaps the spirits were simply shy."

Yao Yao scowled. "I still think your face deserves a pillow."

A beat of silence.

"Tell me," Rong Xi asked quietly, his tone losing its mischief, "do you believe in fate?"

Yao Yao blinked, caught off guard.

Fate?

She wasn't sure she even understood the word. It sounded way too deep, like something meant for poets.

She might look like a five-year-old, but inside, she was a woman who had spent years navigating office politics and sales targets. Her life had been ruled by KPIs, not cosmic destiny.

What did she truly know of it?

If anything, she believed in effort. In hard work yielding results. In putting one foot in front of the other, not divine blessings from above.

Fate had never been part of the equation.

So after a moment's pause, she said simply, "I believe in coincidences."

"Coincidence, huh?"

She crossed her arms, still glaring at Rong Xi.

"Yes," she muttered. "It could just be a coincidence. I mean, why not? Not everything has to be some grand fate, you know."

Rong Xi tilted his head slightly. "Interesting," he said. "Well, I believe in fate."

She blinked. The calm certainty in his voice was unexpected.

"Because I'm spiritless."

She stared at him, unsure of what to say. He didn't look ashamed or embarrassed in the slightest. He was still leaning lazily against the bedpost, his golden eyes half-lidded, a small smile on his lips, as if he were talking about someone else entirely.

"I…" she hesitated. "I thought the Crown Prince couldn't be spiritless."

"That's what they all think," Rong Xi replied simply. "That a prince must have power. That everything should be… inherited."

Yao Yao frowned, trying to read the strange calm in his tone. "What happened at the ceremony?"

"No spirit came," he said, without bitterness. "I stood there. The portal stood still."

Her breath caught.

"And what did they say?" he asked, his voice soft. "That I must be cursed? That the spirits rejected me? Or worse, that I was hiding one, something too dangerous to reveal?"

"Which one is true?" she asked before she could stop herself.

He paused. Then smiled faintly. "Maybe none. Maybe all."

It wasn't an answer. But it was, somehow, the only one she would get.

"Did you try again?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. I didn't."

The simplicity of his response caught her off guard. She had expected him to make some attempt, some effort to fix the situation, but he simply left it as it was.

Yao Yao furrowed her brows in confusion. "Why not? Why wouldn't you try again?"

"There wasn't a need." His voice was quiet. And yet, something in his gaze made her feel he wasn't telling the whole truth.

The candlelight caught his golden eyes as he looked at her again. "Do you pity me now?"

Yao Yao blinked.

"…No."

It surprised her how easily the word came out.

"No?" he echoed, brows raised slightly.

She folded her arms. "You're annoying, smug, and absolutely full of yourself. But pity? No."

He chuckled. "How refreshing."

She gave him a look. "So, you think being spiritless is… fated?"

"Perhaps," he murmured. "Perhaps being spiritless… is just the beginning of something else."

Yao Yao tilted her head, curious despite herself. "Like what?"

Rong Xi looked at her, really looked, and for a second, she felt the same unsettling weight she had sensed earlier in the throne room.

That un-childlike depth behind his eyes.

"Like a chance..."

There was no teasing in his voice this time.

"To rewrite the rules."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, with a shift of tension so subtle it barely existed, Rong Xi leaned forward again, just a breath closer. "Do you think I'm weak?"

Yao Yao blinked.

She shook her head.

"No."

"Then why," he asked, leaning another inch forward, "do you think I am spiritless?"

She hadn't thought about it that way.

If Rong Xi was weak, then maybe his failure made sense.

But he wasn't.

He felt strong.

There was always something about him that she could feel, a quiet, almost overwhelming presence, like power held carefully in check.

Even if she didn't understand much about magic yet, her instincts told her one thing clearly:

This boy is not weak.

Yao Yao frowned.

"I'm not sure…" she admitted. "Maybe because you're too—"

Under the dim candlelight, Yao Yao noticed it for the first time.

Rong Xi was… good-looking.

Even for a twelve-year-old.

His golden eyes shimmered, reflecting the flickering light like molten gold, deep, almost dangerous. He was staring at her intently now, patient, as if waiting for her answer.

"Mm?" His lips curled, moving in a little closer.

For a moment, she forgot to breathe. There was nothing boyish about him.

He felt too composed. Too mature.

Too smooth. That was the word.

The kind of calm, practiced charm that didn't belong to a twelve-year-old boy, but to someone who'd waltzed through these kinds of moments a hundred times and always came out winning.

Her heart gave a traitorous thump as his eyes locked onto hers. There was something magnetic about his gaze, pulling her in. She could see the delicate sweep of his lashes now, the precise curve of his lips, and the soft smirk beginning to form at the corner of his mouth.

Her chest tightened.

And then—

He leaned in, just a little more.

Yao Yao froze.

"Actually," he murmured, voice low and close, "I think I know."

Their eyes locked tightly.

She blinked, surprised at how near his face had come.

"…Y-You do?" she asked, hesitating.

"Perhaps," he whispered, his mouth tilting into a slow smirk, "I'm too good-looking… so the spirits got shy."

For a moment, the world fell utterly silent.

Yao Yao's mind blanked. Her cheeks burst into flames, while her thoughts scattered like startled pigeons.

She was outraged. Flustered. Offended. Betrayed by her own heartbeat.

"YOU—!!"

A pillow smacked him square in the face.

He didn't even try to dodge.

Another pillow came.

Missed.

She grabbed her bolster.

"GET OUT! YOU ARE SHAMELESS!"

Laughing, Rong Xi straightened his back, catching the bolster effortlessly, raising an eyebrow.

"Shameless?" he repeated, tilting his head. "What did I do?"

"EXIST!" Yao Yao snapped, flipping her body away from him on the bed, yanking the covers over her head.

Rong Xi chuckled. The low, amused chuckle sent another unwanted flutter to her stomach.

UGH.

She hated him.

She hated that smirk.

She hated how infuriatingly smooth he was.

She buried herself further under the blankets.

Rong Xi, still standing there, smirked down at the mount of blankets that is now Yao Yao. After a brief silence, he asked casually, though with a sharpness that hinted at suspicion, "Are you really five?"

Yao Yao's eyes widened beneath the covers. A jolt of panic shot through her chest. She didn't move. Didn't breathe. Her heart thudded in her chest as she forced herself to stay perfectly still, refusing to show any sign of reaction.

Rong Xi tilted his head, waiting. When no answer came, he let out a quiet chuckle. This time, the edge was gone.

"Goodnight, little one," he murmured.

Then, with no sound at all, he was gone.

Yao Yao peeked out from under the blankets, glaring at the empty space where he had stood.

Her cheeks were flushing, her heart still thumping. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it, whether it was the lingering frustration or relief that he was finally gone.