Cold. That was the first thing that struck her, an overwhelming chill that seemed to sink deep into her very bones. It wasn't just the bite of the winter air—no, this was a cold that clung to her skin, creeping under her layers of clothing as if trying to freeze her from the inside out. Every gust of wind felt like a sharp, invisible hand scraping against her, its icy fingers dragging along her skin and making her shiver uncontrollably.
The rope that bound her wrists behind her back was cutting into her skin. The coarse fibers dug painfully into her tender flesh, making each movement a struggle, each tug a reminder of her helplessness. The twisted cord was rough and unrelenting, and it burned with a raw, abrasive discomfort that made her fingers tingle and ache with deep, throbbing pain.
Feng Ruyi tried to shift, but the cramped space of the carriage offered no comfort. When she finally dared to lift her head, a soft gasp escaped her lips. The carriage itself was barely holding together—its weathered wood creaked with every lurch and sway as if the very structure of the vehicle might fall apart at any moment. The floor beneath her was uneven, the planks warped and creaky, showing signs of poor craftsmanship, as if it had been hastily built with little regard for its durability. The smell of dust and old wood filled the air, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.
Across from her sat nine other girls, huddled together for warmth, their eyes darting nervously around the dark interior. Their hands were similarly bound, the ropes cutting into their skin just as painfully as hers. They were around her age, their refined features and graceful postures betraying their noble upbringing. Even in their current distress, their expensive robes and delicate jewelry were still unmistakable signs of their high status. The scent of perfumed oils lingered faintly in the air, a stark contrast to the grim reality of their situation.
As Feng Ruyi surveyed the others, her eyes locked with a girl dressed in a striking emerald gown. The girl's gaze was sharp and unyielding, her expression closed off. Feng Ruyi gave a polite smile, trying to offer some reassurance, but the girl merely gave her a fleeting, indifferent glance before turning her head away. Fine, okay then, Ruyi thought to herself. She understood; fear and uncertainty gripped them all right now, and no one had the energy for pleasantries.
Her thoughts drifted to a few hours earlier and Feng Ruyi couldn't help but sigh; she regretted playing matchmaker for the Crown Prince and Feng Qingqing. It had seemed like a harmless gesture, an attempt to ease some of the tension between the two, but now it felt like she had unknowingly set a series of events into motion that spiraled beyond her control.
A few hours ago, while wandering from stall to stall, indulging in the vibrant atmosphere of the Lantern Festival, her attention was caught by a small figure crouched alone on the ground. A little boy, no older than six or seven, sat with his head tucked between his knees. He was still, too still, and the bustling crowd seemed to pass him by without a second glance.
Feng Ruyi furrowed her brows, scanning the area for any sign of an adult with the boy. But no one seemed to notice him.
"Hey, are you okay?" she asked gently, crouching beside him.
The boy looked up slowly, his face streaked with tears. His eyes were red and swollen from crying, and his lip trembled as he sniffed, trying to hold back more tears.
"I... I can't find my mom," he stuttered, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
Feng Ruyi's heart clenched. She glanced around once more, taking in the busy streets, the festive stalls, the flickering lanterns—no one seemed to notice the boy's distress. "Do you remember where you last saw her?" she asked, kneeling to his level.
The boy looked up at her with wide, tear-filled eyes. "She went that way." He pointed toward the far end of the lantern-lined path, where the golden lights seemed to fade into shadow.
Feng Ruyi hesitated for a moment, but her heart softened at the thought of the boy wandering alone, lost in the crowd. It was then that she should've noticed the danger—the subtle way the lanterns grew fewer and fewer, the quieting of the festival sounds—but her sympathy clouded her usual caution. Without thinking, she stood up and grabbed the boy's hand. "Don't worry, we'll find her. This jie jie will help you."
"Okay," the boy mumbled, wiping his nose again, his voice muffled by the sniffles. Feng Ruyi couldn't help but find him adorable, mentally naming him "little dumpling" for his chubby cheeks and wide-eyed innocence.
As they moved through the winding alleyways, the sound of laughter and music from the festival began to fade behind them. The shadows grew longer, and the lanterns dimmer. The narrow passageways between buildings pressed in around them, making the space feel unnaturally small. Feng Ruyi's unease grew, and she glanced down at the boy.
"Are you sure you saw your mother go this way?" she asked, her voice a little more cautious now.
The boy nodded, but the uncertainty in his voice made her doubt. "I think so..."
Feng Ruyi gave him a reassuring smile, though it was more for her own comfort than his. She drew a deep breath, steadying herself. "It's okay, I'm sure she's just up ahead. Let's keep going."
They walked on in silence, the alley twisting and turning, the night air growing colder, the stillness unsettling. It wasn't until they reached a particularly dark stretch of the alley, where the buildings nearly touched overhead, that Feng Ruyi began to feel the weight of the situation. She hadn't meant to wander this far from the festivities, and the air felt heavier with each step.
"By the way," Feng Ruyi asked, trying to keep the mood light, "What's your name, little one? Mine is Ruyi, but you can call me Ruyi jie jie."
The boy hesitated before speaking, his voice barely audible. "Sorry."
"Sorry? Sorry for what—" she began, but before she could finish her question, a handkerchief was suddenly pressed against her face from behind. The pungent, overwhelming scent of something thick and chemical flooded her nostrils, and she gasped in shock. Her body went rigid in protest, but the stranger's grip was too strong, his arm wrapping around her waist to pin her in place.
Panic surged through her, but her vision blurred as the drug-soaked cloth began to take effect. She fought to keep her eyes open, to stay alert, but her strength waned with each passing second. The last thing she heard before everything went dark was the soft sob of the boy, the words "I'm sorry," barely leaving his lips.
Now she finds herself cramped in this shabby carriage with nine other girls.
Sigh. "This is not what I imagined when I wished to enter a Chinese novel." Feng Ruyi crouched towards the corner of the carriage, hiding within the shadows of the night.
"How long have we been on the road?" Feng Ruyi asked, finally choosing to be the one to break the silence.
The girl sitting closest to her, dressed in the emerald gown, shrugged, her face downcast. "I'm not sure."
Another girl, her face streaked with tears, sobbed, "I want to go home."
The sudden lurch of the carriage made them all stumble into each other, the rough stop causing everyone to grip the edges of their seats. The door swung open with a loud thud, and in the doorway stood a large, imposing figure—tall and broad, with muscles that looked like they could crush stone. His rough appearance sent a chill through the girls.
"Listen up," his deep, growling voice cut through the silence. "If I hear a peep from any of you, consider this your last night. Got it?"
The girls froze in terror. The oppressive weight of his presence sucked all the air out of the carriage. As he scanned the faces inside, his gaze landed on Feng Ruyi. She met his eyes directly, her expression blank. There was no fear in her demeanor—just an impenetrable calm.
For a moment, the man's eyes lingered on hers, his brow furrowing in apparent confusion. Then, with a grunt, he turned and hopped off the carriage, leaving the girls in stunned silence.
The carriage jolted again, and they began moving, the rattle of the wheels and the eerie silence enveloping them once more.
Feng Ruyi, despite her brave front, felt the anxiety rising inside her. She tried to calm herself, but the fear was undeniable. She was trapped, and who knew where they were taking them? All she could think of was the food she had never gotten to try. "Lord, Jesus, Buddha, Allah, save me," she whispered under her breath. "I haven't even eaten any of the local snacks yet."