It had been nearly ten days since Xiaoxi returned to the palace. At first, her presence had filled every corner with energy—her laughter, her teasing, her playful chaos. The staff and servants had loved it, the family had rolled their eyes and chuckled, but everyone agreed: the palace was lively because of her.
Now… it was different.
The corridors were quieter, the dining halls calmer, but emptier in a strange way. The staff whispered to each other:
Servant 1: "Do you notice? Xiaoxi's barely talking these days. At first, we thought she was just being quiet, but now…"
Servant 2: "Yes, the palace feels… strange. Not lively at all. She made so much chaos before… and now, silence."
Xiaoxi herself sat in the corner of the garden, hands folded in her lap, eyes distant. Unlike before, she rarely laughed, rarely teased. Her mind replayed every moment she had seen Haoran with Mingzhu, every laugh, every smile that wasn't meant for her.
Xiaoxi (thinking, heart tightening): I can't… I can't let my feelings go deeper. He… he might like Mingzhu. They're perfect for each other… I have to stay away. I can't let him see… or me…
Haoran noticed the change immediately. The lively, mischievous Xiaoxi he loved to tease had vanished into a quiet, restrained version of herself. At first, he thought she was just being cautious—but slowly, he realized it was more.
Haoran (thinking, frowning, confused): She's… keeping her distance. But why? Is she… jealous? Or… avoiding me?
He tried to approach her, teasing as he usually did:
Haoran: "Little puffer fish, why so quiet today? Did Mingzhu steal your voice too?"
Xiaoxi jumped slightly, then quickly straightened, pretending to answer a servant's call:
Xiaoxi: "Oh! Someone's calling me! I'll go check!" 😅
She hurriedly moved away. Every time Haoran tried to come closer, she stepped back, smiled politely, or made an excuse.
Haoran's lips twitched in frustration. He didn't understand why her actions hurt him so much, why her quietness made his chest ache.
Haoran (thinking, voice low, almost to himself): I… I just wanted to tease her… I didn't mean… why does it feel like… I'm losing her?
He realized something else too—every time he moved closer to Mingzhu, every soft laugh he shared with her, Xiaoxi pulled further away. And deep down, he hated seeing it.
Haoran (voice firm, hurt): "Xiaoxi… why are you avoiding me?"
Xiaoxi (forcing a smile, pretending someone called her again): "Oh! Excuse me… I have to go." 😅
Haoran's hand twitched, wanting to grab her gently, wanting to pull her back, but he stopped. Neither of them could fully express what they felt. Jealousy, love, confusion—it was a storm neither could control.
The palace, meanwhile, had fallen into a strange, quiet routine. Lianhua whispered to Grandma:
Lianhua: "Do you notice? It's… almost peaceful. But… it's empty. Xiaoxi's not stirring chaos, and somehow… we miss it."
Grandma: "Yes. She was loud, mischievous… but she brought life. Without her, even the prince seems… different."
Even the servants remarked how unusual it was: the first day Xiaoxi was quiet, they had thought it was strange—but now, days later, they realized just how much her energy had filled the palace.
Ten days. Ten days of silence from the princess who used to rule the palace with her laughter, her teasing, and her chaos. And during those ten days, Haoran and Xiaoxi were stuck in a painful dance—so close yet so far, both struggling to control emotions they didn't fully understand.
Haoran didn't know he was already falling in love with Xiaoxi—he only knew he hated seeing her pull away. Xiaoxi didn't know how to stop her feelings from growing, yet she forced herself to stay distant, believing the prince would always belong to Mingzhu.
And so, the palace continued quietly, missing the chaos, missing the laughter, and most of all… missing the heart of it all—the little puffer fish who had unwittingly captured the prince's heart.