MY PRINCE HUSBAND HAS SEVEN WIVES AND I AM HIS FAVOURITE!
Chapter 102: He has a scapegoat

Chapter 102: He has a scapegoat

Hua Jing sat in silence long after Hua Ling had left, her fingers tapping lightly against the wooden armrest of her chair.

The afternoon sun filtered through the delicate silk curtains, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow across the polished floors

Her heart, however, was anything but calm.

She had spent all this time focused on survival, on finding a way to escape this world and return to where she truly belonged.

But after everything that had happened—after nearly dying in that prison, after Zhao Yan carrying her out with an expression so filled with rage and desperation—it had struck her.

Escape was no longer her priority.

Power was.

Hua Jing’s fingers curled into a fist, her nails digging into her palm. If she wanted to live without fear of being stepped on, she needed absolute authority.

She needed to be untouchable. And in this world, that meant one thing: she had to become Empress.

She turned to Xia Lin, who was standing hesitantly at her side, her face creased with visible concern.

"Xia Lin," Hua Jing said, her voice steady. "Tell me, how is an Empress chosen?"

Xia Lin hesitated, looking as if she wanted to say something but held back. Finally, she sighed and answered, "The Empress is not always the first wife. It is usually the woman who has the most favor from the Emperor, the one who wields the most influence in the harem, and, of course, the one who can birth the next heir."

Hua Jing’s eyes darkened at that. The thought of bearing a child for Zhao Yan had never once crossed her mind, and she wasn’t about to start thinking about it now.

"So, if I want to become Empress, I need Zhao Yan’s favor?" she mused.

"Yes, but..." Xia Lin trailed off, wringing her hands. "My lady, is this really what you want?"

Hua Jing’s lips curled into a slow smile, though it held no warmth. "Why wouldn’t I want it? I was thrown into prison like a criminal, nearly drowned, beaten, humiliated—all because I had no power. If I become Empress, no one will dare touch me again."

Xia Lin frowned, clearly troubled by her sudden ambition. "But this decision... it’s too fast. Before, you only wanted to survive. Now, you suddenly want to rule? What changed?"

Hua Jing’s expression darkened as she leaned back, eyes lifting toward the ceiling. "What changed? I almost died."

Xia Lin had no response to that.

There was a long silence before Hua Jing finally spoke again, her voice softer this time. "You’re worried about me."

"I am," Xia Lin admitted. "I won’t lie—I want you to have power. I want you to be safe. But the other consorts will not sit still. The First Consort especially... she already sees you as a threat. If you suddenly start gaining power, she will act against you."

Hua Jing chuckled. "Oh, I know she will. But let her try. From now on, I won’t just be defending myself—I’ll be attacking."

Xia Lin opened her mouth as if to protest, but before she could speak, a loud crash echoed from outside. Both women turned toward the sound, startled.

Hua Jing narrowed her eyes. "What was that?"

Xia Lin hurried to the doorway, peeking outside. When she turned back, her face had paled. "It’s a messenger... from the First Consort’s palace."

Hua Jing’s smile sharpened. So, it begins.

---

Meanwhile, in another part of the palace, Zhao Yan had just returned to his own chambers. The golden mask was once again on his face, its cold metal pressing against his skin. He had only just left Hua Jing’s side that morning, but already his mind was filled with the chaos surrounding her.

He sat down, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension in his muscles. "Wei Ling, Deng Mi," he called.

His two most trusted subordinates immediately stepped forward, bowing deeply.

"Your Highness," Wei Ling greeted.

Zhao Yan didn’t waste time with pleasantries. "What is the latest report?"

Wei Ling exchanged a glance with Deng Mi before responding. "The spy we left behind at the Prime Minister’s estate has sent a message. It seems the Prime Minister has already found a scapegoat for the attack on you."

Zhao Yan’s fingers, which had been resting lightly on the armrest, tightened. His golden mask gleamed under the dim candlelight, making his already dangerous aura even more suffocating.

"A scapegoat?" he repeated, his voice dangerously calm.

"Yes, Your Highness. A low-ranking officer—one of the men who was part of the security team in the town you visited. They are claiming he acted alone, that he was bribed by an unknown force to attack you."

Zhao Yan let out a slow breath. "And the Prime Minister?"

Wei Ling’s expression darkened. "Untouched, of course. He has distanced himself from the incident completely. There is no proof linking him to the attack."

Zhao Yan laughed softly, the sound utterly devoid of amusement. "How convenient."

Deng Mi hesitated before stepping forward. "Your Highness... what would you like to do?"

Zhao Yan was silent for a moment, his gaze shifting toward the open doors of his palace. The morning air was crisp, but his blood ran hot. He had known the Prime Minister wouldn’t go down easily. But that was fine. He had time.

His enemies were playing a long game.

But so was he.

With a flick of his wrist, he dismissed his men. "Send a message back. Tell our spy to stay close to the Prime Minister. Observe every move. I want to know what he eats, where he sleeps, who he speaks to. Every detail."

Wei Ling and Deng Mi bowed. "Yes, Your Highness."

As they left, Zhao Yan leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the wood.

A scapegoat.

Did the Prime Minister truly think he would fall for something so ridiculous?

He would make him pay.

But first... he had another matter to settle.

His gaze darkened. The First Consort.

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