MY PRINCE HUSBAND HAS SEVEN WIVES AND I AM HIS FAVOURITE!
Chapter 120: Let’s give them a show they’ll never forget!

Chapter 120: Let’s give them a show they’ll never forget!

The carriage rattled along the paved road, its wheels kicking up dust as it neared the imposing gates of the Hua Mansion.

Inside, Hua Jing lounged lazily against the cushioned seat, her eyes lazily scanning the opulent chests filled with gifts. She clicked her tongue in mild amusement, her lips curling into a smirk.

"Honestly, it feels like the Emperor is trying to bribe me," she mused, stretching her arms dramatically.

Xia Lin, seated across from her, shot her a wary look. "Bribe you? My lady, what do you mean?"

Hua Jing turned her gaze toward her, her mischievous eyes glinting. "Don’t you think this is a bit excessive? All these gifts, all these luxurious silks and gold bars... doesn’t it feel like guilt compensation for what happened in the dungeon?" Her voice lilted in amusement, but there was an edge to it.

Xia Lin hesitated before nodding. "It does seem... excessive," she admitted. Then her brows furrowed. "But my lady, are you really going to give them all these gifts? After everything they’ve done?"

Hua Jing scoffed. "Do you think I’m an idiot?" She turned toward the stacked chests, dramatically placing a hand on her hip.

"Xia Lin," she called lazily.

"Yes, my lady?" Xia Lin answered, sparing her a sideways glance.

"Do you truly think I’m going to hand over all these extravagant gifts to those wretched people?" Hua Jing’s lips curled mischievously as she tilted her head towards the chests.

Xia Lin sighed dramatically. "I had a feeling you wouldn’t, but you did insist on bringing everything along."

"Ah," Hua Jing sighed, feigning deep sorrow. "It’s all about the spectacle, my dear Xia Lin. The grand entrance, the whispers, the wide eyes—just imagine their faces when they see this." She gestured grandly at the gifts.

Xia Lin rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "And then what? You throw some empty chests at them and cackle like a villain?"

"Xia Lin, you wound me," Hua Jing clutched her chest dramatically. "I would never cackle. A refined lady like myself laughs gracefully."

"Oh, my mistake," Xia Lin deadpanned. "I forgot you’re the picture of elegance."

"Oh, my dear Xia Lin, I just want to create a spectacle. Don’t worry, when it comes to the actual gifting, I’ll make sure it’s... unforgettable." She winked.

Xia Lin blinked rapidly before looking away, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. The image of Hua Jing in her male disguise from the other night resurfaced in her mind, and she quickly coughed to dispel the thought.

The carriage hit a small bump, jolting them. Hua Jing sighed, her expression darkening for the first time since they’d left.

She traced a finger along the window, watching the passing scenery, but her mind had already drifted elsewhere—to the lower prison.

The cold, damp stone.

The excruciating pain in her limbs.

The stench of rot and despair.

The emperor’s face, cold and unyielding, as he passed judgment without hesitation. "How dare you poison the crown prince?" His voice had boomed, sending shivers down her battered body. She had tried to speak, to defend herself, but the guards had forced her to her knees before she could get a word in.

No one had listened.

No one had cared.

Then, just as suddenly, the tides had shifted. The real culprit had been found, the mistake "corrected." She had been released, her wounds barely tended to before being sent back to her quarters.

No apology, no remorse. Only silence, as if the emperor’s fury had never existed in the first place.

And now, he sends gifts? To make amends? How laughable!

"Ahem. We should be arriving soon," Xia Lin said, regaining her composure. She turned to the footman. "How much longer?"

"We’re nearly there, my lady," he responded, his voice steady.

As the carriage approached, the grandeur of the Hua Mansion came into full view. Red lanterns hung in endless rows, bathing the entire estate in a warm, festive glow. Silk banners adorned with intricate golden embroidery waved gently in the evening breeze. Music floated through the air, accompanied by the distant hum of chatter and laughter.

The moment the carriage came to a stop, Hua Jing stepped out, blinking rapidly at the overwhelming sight before her.

"What in the peacock is going on here?" she muttered, shielding her eyes dramatically.

Xia Lin huffed beside her, crossing her arms. "Your weird stepsister must have gone all out. You know how she likes to compete. After your wedding to the prince, she must have felt the need to outdo you."

At that, Hua Jing frowned, a curious thought striking her. "Speaking of which... Xia Lin, how was my wedding?"

The sudden question caught Xia Lin off guard. Her lips parted slightly, as if hesitating to answer, before she carefully said, "It was... quite good. Simple, but excellent."

Hua Jing narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing Xia Lin’s expression. "Mmm." That was a lie. A blatant, sugar-coated lie. If her wedding had been that good, Xia Lin wouldn’t be so cautious with her words. Clearly, it had been nowhere near as grand as this ridiculous spectacle.

She turned back to the mansion, the towering estate looming over her. The sight sent a rush of memories through her mind—the pain, the humiliation, the years spent under this roof being treated as less than nothing.

But she was back now.

And she was no longer that weak, pitiful girl.

An evil smirk spread across her lips as she whispered under her breath, "I’m back, dear family. Let’s see how you like this version of me."

The Hua Mansion was even larger than she remembered. The grand halls stretched endlessly, the intricate carvings and polished marble exuding an air of undeniable wealth. Hua Mingrong, her father, was clearly a man of great status in this world, just as he had been in her past life. Only here, his power seemed even greater.

Her smirk deepened. How interesting.

As she stepped forward, her grip tightened on the folds of her dress, determination settling in her bones.

Tonight, the past would not repeat itself.

Tonight, Hua Jing was here to play her own game.

She turned, taking in the grandeur of the mansion, the looming structure filled with memories she’d rather forget. Her eyes gleamed with something dark, something wicked.

"Well then," she murmured, a slow smirk curling her lips. "Let’s give them a show they’ll never forget."