MY PRINCE HUSBAND HAS SEVEN WIVES AND I AM HIS FAVOURITE!
Chapter 115: Every time she saw his face, she wanted to claw at it

Chapter 115: Every time she saw his face, she wanted to claw at it

Xia Lin shut the door behind her swiftly, her hands gripping the fabric of her sleeves as she turned to face Hua Jing with clear worry in her eyes. Her gaze flickered over Hua Jing’s now-exposed face, her disguise completely ruined. The fake mustache had fallen off somewhere along the way, and her carefully bound chest had loosened from all the running.

For a long moment, Xia Lin simply stared.

Then, her voice came out in a rushed whisper, "My lady, did the prince... did he catch you sneaking out?"

Hua Jing had been asking herself the same question over and over.

How had Zhao Yan found her?

Was it just a coincidence? No, she didn’t believe in coincidences.

Had he followed her from the beginning?

The thought made her blood boil.

Her eyes darted toward the window where she could still make out his shadow lingering outside. Her fingers twitched at her sides as she cursed him in her heart a thousand times over.

That insufferable man!

Not only had he followed her, but he had done so while wearing that face!

She could still feel her heart pounding, her mind struggling to reconcile the two identities—Zhao Yan and Fu Jing Rong. It was like trying to merge oil and water, two things that should never mix, yet here they were, inexplicably one and the same.

"Hua Jing?"

Xia Lin’s voice pulled her back.

Hua Jing exhaled sharply and ran a hand through her disheveled hair. "I don’t know," she finally said.

Xia Lin let out a breath, seemingly relieved. "At least he didn’t drag you straight to the Emperor." But then, her expression darkened with concern. "But... what happened between you two?"

Hua Jing froze.

What happened?

What indeed had happened between them that they had ended up like this?

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

How was she supposed to explain this?

That she and Zhao Yan were from another world? That he had been her mortal enemy in that world? That for years, they had been locked in a bitter rivalry that neither of them had ever let go of?

No.

She couldn’t tell Xia Lin that.

She couldn’t tell anyone that.

Her fingers clenched into fists at her sides.

More than anything, what unsettled her most was Zhao Yan’s reaction tonight.

The way he had looked at her.

The way he had spoken, his words heavy with something she couldn’t quite place.

He remembered.

She was sure of it now.

Zhao Yan remembered their past life.

That meant he had known for some time.

But how long?

How long had he known the truth?

And why hadn’t he said anything?

Her stomach churned with unease. The answers to all of these questions lay just outside her door, with the man she had sworn she never wanted to see again.

But to get them—

She would have to face him.

And she wasn’t sure she could do that yet.

Not when every time she looked at his face, all she could see was the man she had spent a lifetime hating.

Outside,

Zhao Yan lingered outside Hua Jing’s courtyard, his steps slow and uncertain as he paced the length of the stone pathway.

His hands curled into loose fists, his mind warring with itself.

If he left now, if he turned his back and walked away, what would become of them?

What would become of her?

Hua Jing was stubborn. He had always known that. And now, after revealing his face, after confirming that he was, indeed, Fu Jing Rong from their past life, she would not let this go so easily.

She would push him away.

She already had.

But could he let her?

He had spent lifetimes with her name carved into his heart, with a love he had never been able to give voice to. And now, in this second life, he had been given a chance—a cruel, painful chance, but a chance nonetheless.

Yet, tonight, as he had watched her recoil from him, as he had seen her loathing and disbelief, he wondered if fate was toying with him once more.

Perhaps in this lifetime too, she was meant to hate him.

The thought made his chest tighten unbearably.

He exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair, glancing once more at the closed doors of her courtyard.

No movement.

Not even a flicker of light from within.

Just silence.

A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Then, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Your Highness."

Zhao Yan turned sharply, his expression instantly neutral as Wei Ling stepped forward from the shadows.

The man bowed respectfully before speaking again. "Is something the matter?"

Zhao Yan didn’t answer immediately.

His eyes flickered back to Hua Jing’s courtyard before he finally shook his head. "No."

But Wei Ling had served him for years. He knew better than to take those words at face value.

His gaze darted between Zhao Yan’s tense form and the courtyard behind him before he asked, "Did you fight with the Seventh Consort?"

Zhao Yan closed his eyes briefly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a slow breath.

He did not want to answer that question.

Instead, he asked, "What do you want?"

Wei Ling hesitated for only a moment before responding, "The Emperor wants to see you."

Zhao Yan’s brows furrowed. "Now?"

"Yes," Wei Ling confirmed, nodding. "Immediately."

Zhao Yan felt an internal battle rise once again.

Should he stay?

Or should he go?

Duty demanded that he go.

But his heart told him to stay.

He turned back toward Hua Jing’s courtyard, his jaw tightening as he lingered for just a second longer.

But the Emperor’s summons could not be ignored.

With one last glance at the silent, closed doors, he turned and walked into the night, disappearing into the darkness alongside Wei Ling.

What he did not see—

Once the prince was gone, a figure shifted in the shadows.

Hidden within the dense foliage of the nearby trees, a man slowly stepped out, his movements deliberate and silent.

He was cloaked in black from head to toe, his features obscured by a dark mask that left only his piercing eyes visible.

And those eyes...

They gleamed with unsettling amusement.

A knowing smirk curled behind the mask as he tilted his head, gazing after the direction Zhao Yan had left.

Then, just as swiftly and soundlessly as he had appeared—

He disappeared into the darkness.