Morning poured pale gold into Auroria's halls. In the grand audience chamber, the empress, the prince's sister Lianhua, and their grandmother gathered while the captured assassin was being questioned. The emperor was away.
Lianhua rolled her eyes at Haoran. "Mom — Haoran has gone stupid," she announced, very loud and theatrical.
The empress frowned. "Why are you saying that about your brother?"
"He was acting so strange last night — sneezing, talking nonsense… calling people frogs and puffer fish!" Lianhua snorted.
Grandmother tutted, amused. "When have you ever found fault in him? He has always been a serious, fine prince."
Lianhua pointed a finger and teased, "When did you ever find a fault? Exactly." (She was half-joking, half-gossiping — the family kind of banter.)
At that moment, the three who had escorted Xiaoxi — Brother Chubby Bao, Brother Long Noodle, and Brother Tiny Dumpling — shuffled forward, faces half-nervous, half-hopeful.
"Your Highness," Brother Chubby Bao said, voice wobbling, "now that the assassin is caught… could we… perhaps… get her released? We think she's not involved. She wasn't with them."
Haoran cut him off sharply. "Stop stammering. Speak plainly." His voice made the men straighten.
Brother Long Noodle took a breath. "We found the real assassin. She's not related. Please — the girl in prison is not one of them."
Haoran's face hardened. "Did you forget what she did yesterday?" The guards around them were trying very hard not to laugh, but the prince's sudden, cold look shut them up.
"Your Highness, you can't keep her imprisoned — she's only a small, harmless thing," Tiny Dumpling protested.
Before the argument could become louder, the empress peered toward the door. "Who exactly are you speaking of? Who is in the prison?"
Lianhua, incapable of letting restraint stand, piped up nastily, "Is she your brainless puffer fish?" and giggled.
The empress narrowed her eyes and teased back, "Maybe you need a psychiatrist, too." Lianhua stuck out her tongue and bowed theatrically. "Well, he made me say that last night!"
Curious (and slightly annoyed), they all went to the prison to see for themselves.
---
They reached the prison. It was terribly quiet.
Haoran muttered, "I hope she didn't kill everyone and run away."
"Who? A little girl?" Chubby Bao snapped back, offended. "She wouldn't know how!"
They opened the door — and were met with the chaotic afterglow of a feast: playing cards stuck to the floor, chip wrappers like confetti, a half-empty soup bowl in one corner, and cushions in a messy pile. The prison looked like the remains of a merry banquet.
But worst (or funniest) of all — the guards were asleep everywhere.
One guard lay face-down on a bench with a playing card stuck to his cheek and a noodle dangling from his mouth.
Another had his helmet on as a pillow and was snoring a tiny trumpet.
A sleepy guard was curled around a cushion, clutching a soup ladle like a teddy.
Someone else rolled over, clutching a chip packet like a prize.
Haoran's eyebrows climbed. "In one night… my guards are useless. Sleeping like fools. Blame her!" he said, loud and exasperated.
"Blame her?" Lianhua echoed, smirking. "The brainless puffer fish?"
Haoran shot her a look, then turned to the yawning, rumpled guards. "Wake them. Clean this mess. Bring the girl to the hall. Now."
---
Waking them was an operation — and a comic one.
Brother Chubby Bao took charge first. He grabbed a metal tray and banged it like a drum: CLANG-CLANG-CLANG! A couple of guards stirred, one blinking as if looking for the moon.
Brother Long Noodle, thinking fast, tickled one guard under the nose with a stray playing card. The guard sneezed, sat up, and shouted, "Am I king or cake? Where am I?" — and promptly fell asleep again.
Brother Tiny Dumpling, ever dramatic, poured a cup of cool water near a man's boots (not on him), and the splash startled him awake. He shot upright, hair full of crumbs, and grumbled, "I dreamed of dumplings," before realizing where he was.
Someone tried the classic approach: a chorus of loud shouting. "WAKE UP! PRINCE HAORAN IS HERE! CLEAN THIS PLACE!" A dozen snorts and groggy curses later, eyes peeled open and the prisoners-turned-feasters began to sit up and rub their faces. Tiny clouds of dust puffed into the morning air.
A particularly stubborn guard only woke after Chubby Bao heap-lifted him upright like a sack and shoved a biscuit into his hand. That did the trick — food works every time.
Xiaoxi, who had been dozing on a pile of cushions, blinked, stretched theatrically, and yawned so wide a crumb escaped her mouth like a tiny comet. She looked around, delighted. "Good morning, brothers! Is breakfast ready? Or do we have dessert again?" she chirped in perfect innocence.
The sight of Haoran at the doorway — arms folded, very not amused — made Brother Chubby Bao and the others straighten immediately. They stepped forward, protective.
"Your Highness," Chubby Bao said politely but firmly, "she did not do this on purpose. She shared the snacks with us and… well, maybe she turned the prison into a party, but she didn't find the assassin."
Haoran's jaw tightened. He surveyed the scene: men still blinking, card stuck to a cuff, a spoon dangling from a sleeping sleeve, and Xiaoxi polishing off the last bit of pastry with the calm of someone who'd never heard of guilt.
"Bring her to the hall. She will apologize," he said, tone flat.
The escort brothers exchanged worried glances, but they took Xiaoxi's hand and led her — still brushing crumbs from her sleeve and waving a tiny hand at the sleepy guards — out of the cell and toward the palace hall.
As they walked away, Haoran looked at the mess, then at the faces of the embarrassed, newly-awakened guards, and muttered, quieter to himself than anyone else: "How is this my life?" The empress and Lianhua stifled giggles behind their fans.