The sword tip pressed against her chin, cold and unforgiving. Her heart raced, each beat louder than the last, filling her ears, drowning out everything else.
The man didn’t speak, didn’t move, except to hold her gaze with his empty, yet intense, eyes. His face was deathly pale, his lips painted with an emotion she couldn’t place—disgust? Hatred? A mixture of both?
Yan Jiayi’s pulse thudded painfully against her ribs. She didn’t dare to speak, didn’t dare to move. The sharp edge of his sword seemed like the only thing grounding her in this nightmare world.
She swallowed hard, trying to steady her breath. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The system hadn’t warned her about any of this.
His voice finally broke the heavy silence.
“Who are you?” The words were as cold as the blade beneath her chin.
“I… I’m just—” She hesitated, the words sticking to her throat. “I’m no one.”
The man didn’t respond, his expression unchanged. His sword, still pressed against her skin, made her feel small, insignificant.
The air felt heavier with each passing second, like the weight of this new world, of his presence, was pressing down on her chest. She could feel the heat of the blood staining the ground beneath her, the smell of iron filling her nose.
“You’re not just ‘no one,’” he muttered, more to himself than to her. His gaze flickered to her eyes, lingering on her face for a moment. “You’re too clean for that.”
Yan Jiayi’s brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The man’s lips curled into a half-smile, bitter and cruel. He leaned down slightly, bringing the sword tip even closer to her skin, almost grazing it. The intensity of his presence, the danger he exuded, made her feel as if she were drowning in his very aura.
“You’re a princess.” His words were harsh, like a slap to the face. “And I am your enemy. Your kingdom is nothing now. Your crown—nothing but a joke.”
Gulping down his words, Yan Jiayi sat frozen. She didn’t understand anything.
Me… princess...?
She blinked in a daze.
Her mind instantly cursed.
Trash system! Where’s my script?!
The man’s sword lowered a little, but his eyes stayed locked on her.
"The royal family is dead," he said, voice cold. "Now you’re the only one left. Tell me, how should I end you?"
Yan Jiayi’s heart stopped for a second.
Oh… so that’s the case.
Instead of begging, she quietly asked, "Who are you?"
She knew she shouldn’t be questioning him. She knew one wrong word could end her here.
But her mouth moved anyway.
The man was stunned for a breath. Then he laughed.
It wasn’t mocking—it was bright, carefree.
Under the blood, his exquisite face lit up like the sun, dazzling and wild.
"I already said," he chuckled, voice deep and dangerous, "I’m your enemy."
Yan Jiayi bit her lip.
Enemy, huh? At least you’re honest.
The sword was still close, but her mind spun quickly.
She took another risk.
"Which princess… am I?"
The man raised an eyebrow at her boldness.
He bent closer, almost face-to-face, a wicked smile playing on his lips.
"Which princess?" he repeated slowly, as if savoring the words.
"You’ll find out... before you die."
" Which princess you are."
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