Jin Wei didn't waste a single second.
The Crown Prince had made a fatal miscalculation: he thought secrecy and palace connections could hide Lady Yang. He had not counted on Jin Wei. Not for a second.
By midnight, Jin Wei had gathered his men—elite, silent, deadly. Not an army meant for parade or intimidation, but one designed for precision. Every step they took, every movement, calculated. Every horse, every blade, every pair of eyes had a single purpose: retrieve her safely.
"We move," Jin Wei commanded, voice low but carrying across the courtyard. No need for shouting. His men obeyed instinctively. No hesitation, no questions. Just trust.
The streets outside the city were quiet, but not empty. Patrols, occasional couriers, the odd guard shift—but nothing his scouts hadn't accounted for. Jin Wei's mind ran through possibilities like a well-oiled machine: alternative routes, hidden passages, escape points, traps. Every risk anticipated. Every obstacle neutralized before it could appear.
By the time they reached the outskirts, the private estate loomed. Lanterns flickered in the distance. Guard rotations were perfectly timed, but Jin Wei's scouts had already noted every shift, every blind spot.
"Formation," he ordered. "Silence. No alarms. We take it like a ghost."
The gates yielded to expert hands. Outer guards incapacitated with tranquilizing techniques so precise they didn't even scream. Not a sound. Not a trace.
Jin Wei's hand rested on the hilt of his sword, but his eyes scanned. Calm. Deadly. Calculating. The general in him never wavered, even when the target was as personal as this.
Inside the estate, I hadn't allowed myself to hope. Not really. Not after the Crown Prince's little "I will make sure he never has you" speech.
But then… a shadow moved across the courtyard. Swift, purposeful, impossibly silent.
I froze. Could it be him? Jin Wei? Impossible. The estate was heavily guarded.
Yet the shadow paused, crouched, scanning like he owned it. My stomach did a somersault—half panic, half relief.
"Don't faint this time, genius," I whispered to myself. "Otherwise I'll never hear the end of it from your past self… or the readers."
The shadow moved closer. Then a faint *click*—the sound of a lock expertly picked.
Yes. That was him.
He appeared in the courtyard moments later, silent as the night itself. Lanterns flickered across his unreadable face. My chest tightened—not fear exactly, just awareness. *This man owns every step he takes.*
I didn't think. I ran to him. My arms wrapped around his waist, clinging like a drowning cat.
Safe. Solid. Immovable.
"Jin Wei…" I whispered, letting everything—relief, fear, anger, exhaustion—pour out.
He held me. Careful, steady, unshakable. The general in him softened, just for me—the only woman who could make him lower his guard. Heartbeat against my chest. Breath steady.
Then he gently pulled back just enough to look at me.
"We agreed," he said, calm as ever but with that subtle sharpness that makes you listen.
"On not being… intimate."
I blinked. Heat rushed to my cheeks. "I… I know," I mumbled.
His lips twitched, just a little—like warning me, like saying *don't even think about it*.
"But," he continued, voice dropping slightly, "if you want to… change the terms, we can discuss it."
I swallowed. "Right now? I just… needed this," I admitted, like a fool confessing my heart out to someone who already knows everything.
He nodded once, decisively. "Good. Then don't overthink it."