Song Jae's eyes sparkled with excitement as her brother, Song Ji, finally agreed to her request.
But just as she was about to celebrate, he casually shattered her joy.
"Since we didn't get to celebrate the Lantern Festival together… how about we do it now?"
Her smile faltered. Wait… what?
"I thought you agreed that I could look around the shops first?" she asked, blinking up at him.
Song Ji smirked. "Yeah, I did. But only after we finish what we came here for."
Song Jae huffed, crossing her arms. "Fine, but you can't go back on your word!"
"I promise." "Good. So, where are we buying the lantern from?"
A mischievous glint flickered in his eyes. "I've already found the perfect shop. Come on, let's go."
He grabbed her wrist and began leading her down the street.
"Oh, and one more thing—no stopping for snacks until we're done. Understand?"
Song Jae gasped dramatically. "What?! No snacks? Oppa, that's cruel!"
Song Ji chuckled, knocking her lightly on the forehead. "No complaints. I'll buy you as many as you want later."
"Oppa, that hurts!" she pouted, rubbing her forehead.
But she quickly let it go, her excitement bubbling up once more as they approached the shop—until she saw the crowd.
The narrow street was packed with people.
Shoulders bumped against one another, voices mixed into an overwhelming buzz, and the warm glow of lanterns barely pierced through the sea of moving bodies.
Song Jae's excitement dimmed into confusion.
"Oppa… why is this place so crowded?" she asked warily.
Song Ji frowned. "I don't know. But hold my hand tightly, so we don't get separated."
She nodded, gripping his hand as they pushed forward, determined to find out what was going on.
This was the only shop selling lanterns in the area. If something had happened, they needed to know if they could still buy one—or if they'd have to search for another store.
But as they squeezed through the dense crowd— Her hand slipped from his grasp.
A jolt of panic shot through her. She reached out, but Song Ji was gone. Her breath hitched. No… No, no, no!
Her heart pounded against her ribs as she spun around, frantically searching for her brother.
But all she saw were strangers. Her chest tightened. This wasn't good.
A chilling realization settled in. She didn't have the original host's memories. She didn't know where she was.
And in this strict, patriarchal era, young girls—especially ones from noble families—weren't even allowed to leave their residence without permission unless it was for something important.
Women in this time weren't raised to be independent. They were trained—to be virtuous, skillful, and obedient.
To be filial daughters, dutiful wives, and perfect chess pieces—married off to powerful men who could elevate their family's status.
They had to obey. Their fathers, husbands, in-laws—even their sons once they grew old enough to inherit power.
They had one duty—to give birth to children who would stabilize their position as the first wife.
Song Jae clenched her fists. Right now, she wished she was back in the twenty-first century, where she could simply pull out her phone and check her GPS.
But here?She was helpless. Shoving away her frustration, she forced herself to focus.
She needed to find her brother—fast. "Oppa! Oppa!" she called desperately.
But before she could take another step—A hand clamped over her mouth. Her eyes widened in terror. And just like that—
Everything went dark before her eyes. Fear seized Song Jae's heart like a vice.
She clawed desperately at the hand clamped over her mouth, trying to pry it away, but it was no use. Her captor was far stronger. The rough palm muffled her screams, swallowing her pleas as they were drowned by the lively chatter of the bustling streets beyond.
Panic surged through her veins. Was she being kidnapped? For ransom? Or something far worse—like human trafficking?
Horrific thoughts swirled in her mind. After all, in this era, young girls like her—only twelve or thirteen years old—were valuable. Her skin was soft as tofu, her face delicate and beautiful, the kind men paid fortunes for.
She squeezed her eyes shut, a silent prayer forming in her heart.
"Please, if I can escape this… if I make it home safely, I swear—I will learn how to fight! I will never be weak and helpless again!"
Her only hope now was that her brother would find her quickly.
The man's grip tightened as he dragged her into a dark alley, away from the lantern-lit streets.
Then—suddenly—he let go. Song Jae barely had time to react before she stumbled forward, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
But the moment she opened her mouth to scream— A cold blade pressed against her throat.
"Try anything stupid again," the man's voice was low, deadly, "and I'll slit your throat."
Terror locked her limbs in place. She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper.
"O-Okay. I promise I won't do anything reckless… just please don't kill me!"
Desperation flickered in her eyes as she grasped at straws.
"I-I'm actually very ugly!" she blurted out. "This isn't even my real face! I use a special skin mask to look beautiful!"
A laugh echoed through the alley. Song Jae stiffened. Someone else was here. Her heart leaped with hope. Had someone come to rescue her?
The grip on her arm loosened slightly as her captor—Hwang—turned around.
"My Lord…?" Song Jae followed his gaze and froze.
A boy—no older than sixteen or seventeen—lay slumped against the wall. His clothes were soaked in blood, his breathing shallow, yet a smirk lingered on his lips.
Even wounded, his beauty was striking—flawless skin, pale and smooth like polished jade. His sharp jawline gave him a noble air, his straight nose adding to his refined elegance.
His lips, full yet firm, rarely smiled, but when they did, it was unforgettable.
But his eyes—dark green and piercing—were the most captivating. One glance felt like he could see into your soul, stripping away every secret.
Even in pain, he was untouchable—like a prince carved from legend, distant yet unforgettable.
"Hwang," the boy drawled weakly, his voice laced with cold amusement. "Why did you kidnap a little girl?"
Hwang immediately lowered his head in submission.
"Forgive me, my lord! I couldn't find a doctor, and I feared you would die from blood loss before I returned. She was… easy to handle."
The noble boy scoffed. "You think this little girl can treat me?" Song Jae's heart pounded. Treat him? Was that why she had been kidnapped?
Hwang bowed lower. "My lord, I searched the entire district, but I couldn't find a physician. I was afraid you might not survive until I did, so I brought her."
The boy's eyes flickered with irritation. "Are you cursing me to die early?"
Hwang immediately panicked. "N-No, my lord! How could I possibly—" But Song Jae barely heard them.
Her mind was stuck on one realization These boys were dangerous.
Their way of speaking, their clothing, and the unmistakable arrogance in their tone—they weren't commoners. They were from noble blood, the kind who decided whether a person lived or died with a flick of their wrist.
And if she couldn't treat this boy… They would kill her.
"Girls only know how to dance, sing, and recite poetry," the injured boy muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. Song Jae clenched her fists.
They were talking about her like she wasn't even there. Like she wasn't a person, but a worthless object. Anger simmered in her chest.
What do you mean girls are useless? she thought furiously. If we're so useless, then why am I the one who has to save your life?
But now was not the time to argue. Her life was on the line.
Hwang's voice cut through the silence. "Well, if she can't treat you… we'll just kill her." Song Jae's blood ran cold.
No. She couldn't let that happen. She just newly arrived at this world after been killed. She can't die again.
"Young Masters, please don't kill me!" she pleaded, her voice breaking. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over.
The injured boy scoffed. "This is exactly why I hate girls," he said flatly. "They only know how to cry."
Song Jae immediately wiped her tears away.
If crying wouldn't help, then she wouldn't cry.
She straightened her back and forced confidence into her voice.
"I can help," she declared. "I may not be a physician, but I can at least stop the bleeding." The boy's sharp eyes narrowed.
"You?" She took a deep breath. "Yes. I can try."
She inched closer, kneeling beside him. The moment she saw his wound, her heart raced with urgency.
So much blood… His face was too pale. If she didn't stop the bleeding soon, he would lose consciousness.
Her hands hovered over his injury as she recalled everything she had seen in the twenty-first century—movies, medical dramas, first-aid videos.
She had to do something. Then, her gaze flickered to his neck.
A jade pendant hung there, its polished surface reflecting the dim light. Her breath caught.
Engraved on the jade was a single word—Kwan. A chill shot through her spine.
She had heard that name before. Her eyes widened as realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.
This boy… Wasn't he the cold-blooded, heartless supporting male lead in the novel she had read?
(AUTHOR: Don't forget to save, like and comment! Your support keeps me writing! ❤️)