Fan Jiang, of course, understood what he meant. After so long with no sign of her, only two possibilities remained.
Either someone had rescued her, or… there was no saving her.
But if something had happened to the princess, what would the Crown Prince do when he awoke?
The thought had barely crossed his mind when, out of the corner of his eye, Fan Jiang spotted the man approaching. His expression shifted. “Crown Prince!”
Xiao Hanjin’s handsome face was taut, his deep eyes harboring a desolate emptiness. His hoarse voice seemed to scrape from his throat. “Where is she?”
“Reporting to Your Highness, we haven’t found her yet,” Fan Jiang replied, then quickly added, “It’s possible the princess was saved by someone else.”
Someone else?
Fan Jiang had sent men to search the moment they fell. How could anyone else have rescued her?
Xiao Hanjin stared at the vast blue sea. If there was a fifty percent chance the waves had carried her ashore, then the other fifty percent… Could she be dead?
He shut his eyes, unable to link the word “death” with Di Rong Hua.
Fan Jiang saw the lifeless weight in the man’s gaze and pressed on. “Your Highness, this sea is vast. The princess might have drifted further downstream with the current. You must believe she’s blessed with good fortune…”
Xiao Hanjin’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Send word to all the fishermen along the coast. Whoever brings news of her will be rewarded with ten thousand taels of gold.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Bring Ju Ye here.”
…
Ju Ye didn’t know exactly what had happened that night at the cliff’s edge—to be precise, no one did.
But watching the man’s bleak silhouette, she felt an inexplicable pang of sorrow.
She stepped forward slowly, speaking softly. “Your Highness, you injured your bones when you fell. You should rest. If the princess returns and sees you like this, she’d surely be heartbroken.”
Xiao Hanjin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “She wouldn’t,” he rasped lowly. “Even if I died, she wouldn’t care.”
“What did you say?” Ju Ye gasped, shocked. “The princess loves you so much—how could you think that?”
Love?
Yes, Ju Ye wasn’t wrong to think so. Not long ago, he’d believed it too.
But in the end, it was all a lie—an illusion, a performance.
Xiao Hanjin lowered his gaze, steering away from the topic. “Before we went to the mountaintop that night, did she say anything unusual?”
Ju Ye shook her head. “Not really. She just mentioned Your Highness’s birthday to me.”
“Before the spring hunt, did she meet anyone strange, or have moments of intense emotion?”
Intense emotion?
Ju Ye racked her brain before a memory struck her. “Yes!”
Though the princess had sworn her to secrecy, she…
Ju Ye bit her lip. “A few months ago, when you were attacked, the princess was devastated. She completely broke down.”
Xiao Hanjin’s pupils shrank. “What did you say?”
He’d meant to ask who’d approached Di Rong Hua, feeding her “so-called truths” to drive a wedge between them. But Ju Ye’s words halted his thoughts.
Ju Ye, aggrieved, said, “Your Highness, believe me—the princess loves you deeply. She might seem cold at times, but the day you were attacked, when she heard the news, she was so overcome with panic that she fainted on the spot!”
She paused, then added timidly, “Even if I might lie, a reaction like that can’t be faked, right?”
