---
The day wore on quietly, but tension simmered just beneath the surface.
After Princess Lù Zhāo's visit that morning, neither Prince Xìn Xuān nor Shèng Lín could shake the unease. They'd managed to avoid disaster—for now—but the pressure was growing, and time was slipping through their fingers.
Only 24 days remained until the wedding.
---
In the royal library, hidden deep within the east wing of the palace, Shèng Lín flipped through ancient scrolls and thick leather-bound tomes while the prince napped at the reading table—head resting on crossed arms, snoring softly.
Shèng Lín shot him a glance.
"…Some prince you are," he muttered, and tossed a rolled-up scroll at his head.
The prince jolted upright. "Hey!"
"You said you wanted to help."
"I am helping," the prince said, rubbing his forehead. "I'm helping keep the energy in this room balanced. You're the 'stoic silence' and I'm the 'charming voice of distraction.'"
Shèng Lín gave him a deadpan look and handed him a dusty book titled Spiritual Transference and Soul Displacement: Myths or Truth?
Prince Xìn Xuān blinked. "…This title sounds promisingly dramatic."
They both leaned over the book, flipping through the pages together.
According to one old record, soul swaps had occurred before—mostly around powerful emotional spikes, supernatural relics, or divine curses. The strongest pattern?
> An intense kiss under rain or moonlight with unresolved emotions.
Shèng Lín and the prince both paused.
"…We were drunk. It was raining," the prince said slowly. "And I was feeling things."
"Don't say that out loud," Shèng Lín warned, ears turning red.
"Maybe if we retrace our steps exactly, we can undo it."
Shèng Lín crossed his arms. "That's if it was the kiss that triggered it."
"And if it's emotional," the prince added with a small frown, "what if one of us is… holding back?"
Their eyes met briefly. Shèng Lín looked away first.
"…We'll test it later," he muttered.
---
Meanwhile, in her private garden, Princess Lù Zhāo sipped rose tea and listened to the latest gossip from her lady-in-waiting. Her smile was faint, almost dreamy.
"He spends every night with that knight, you know," her maid whispered. "Even this morning, they were—"
"I know," Lù Zhāo said softly.
Her expression didn't darken with jealousy.
Instead… she looked relieved.
"I'm glad," she whispered to herself.
The maid blinked. "Your Highness?"
Lù Zhāo gave a serene smile. "I never wanted this marriage. But I had no choice. If he truly has feelings for someone else… then maybe…"
She placed her teacup down gently.
"Maybe fate is giving me a way out."
---
Back in the library, the prince stared at the fading evening light through the stained-glass windows.
"Do you think she suspects?" he asked suddenly.
"She suspects something," Shèng Lín replied without lifting his head from the book. "But not the truth. Not yet."
"Well… she might actually be happy about it."
Shèng Lín looked up. "You think?"
The prince nodded. "She's too calm. Almost… relieved."
Silence followed.
"I don't want to trap her either," Xìn Xuān said quietly. "She deserves to love someone. So do I."
Shèng Lín studied him, and for a rare moment, said nothing at all.
---