MY PRINCE HUSBAND HAS SEVEN WIVES AND I AM HIS FAVOURITE!
Chapter 123: How should you be addressing me

Chapter 123: How should you be addressing me

When the nobleman asked about the prince, Hua Jing’s expression flickered ever so slightly, but she quickly regained her composure.

All around her, eager eyes watched, waiting for her response. It was as if this was what they had been anticipating all along—not the wedding, not the grand occasion, but the possible arrival of Zhao Yan.

She let out a soft, shy smile and said smoothly, "If the prince said he would come, then he will come. However, there are pressing matters at the palace that require his attention. Once he is finished, I’m sure he will make his way here."

Murmurs of relief spread through the crowd. Some nodded, as if reassured. Others still looked toward the entrance, their anticipation lingering.

Hua Jing, however, was praying that Zhao Yan wouldn’t show up.

If he came, everything would become unbearable.

The tension would be suffocating.

She had been internally gloating over the fact that he hadn’t come looking for her before she left for the Hua Mansion. Perhaps he had been too busy, or perhaps, by some stroke of luck, he had simply forgotten.

Whatever the case, she was determined to enjoy this night without his presence.

She was seated at her designated place, thinking that perhaps she would be able to watch from the sidelines without much trouble. The banquet had already begun, but the wedding itself had not yet taken place.

Just as she was about to relax, she lifted her gaze—

And her eyes locked with his.

Jiang Lei.

Her entire body tensed.

The man looked exactly the same as he did in her previous life.

The shamelessness. The arrogance. The same smug confidence that had made her blood boil back then.

It seemed that no matter the world, this man remained a two-faced scumbag.

A deep sense of loathing bubbled up inside her.

The previous Hua Jing had likely harbored the same resentment for him, and now, their hatred intertwined, fueling an almost unbearable urge to march over and slap him across the face.

She could feel the weight of his gaze, unrelenting and heavy, making her skin crawl.

She thought, Look away.

But he didn’t.

She thought, Stay where you are.

But instead—

Jiang Lei rose from his seat and started walking toward her.

Internally, she screamed, Don’t come over. Don’t come over. Stay away!

But it seemed she would have to say it out loud if she truly wanted to stop him.

Except, by the time she thought of it—

The idiot was already standing in front of her.

Now that he was closer, she could see every detail of his face.

His eyes gleamed with something unreadable. His lips curled slightly, as if he was pleased.

Hua Jing nearly clicked her tongue in irritation.

Why did his presence alone make her so unbelievably annoyed?

And then—

"Hua Jing," he said.

She lifted a hand, stopping him mid-sentence.

Jiang Lei hesitated, looking momentarily confused.

She stared at him, her voice dripping with icy amusement. "That is not how you should address me now, don’t you know?"

Jiang Lei blinked, then let out a soft chuckle, brushing it off. "There’s no need for that between you and me."

His voice was casual, familiar. As if they were old friends. As if the past between them hadn’t been riddled with betrayal.

"I thought you wouldn’t come," he added, his gaze holding something she didn’t care to name.

Hua Jing didn’t smile. She didn’t even blink.

"As someone who is a scholar hoping to enter the imperial academy, don’t you think that courtesy is a necessary trait?"

Her tone was laced with mocking sweetness.

"I am royalty now, after all. And your behavior, your form of address—it isn’t sitting well with me."

Jiang Lei’s easy expression wavered just slightly.

She tilted her head, her lips curving in a smirk.

"Scholar Jiang," she continued, dragging out the title deliberately, "don’t you know the rules?"

A beat of silence.

"Then tell me," she said, her voice dropping just enough to make his breath hitch.

"How should you be addressing me?"

Jiang Lei stared at Hua Jing, his expression faltering ever so slightly.

Surely, she was joking.

He had expected a teasing smirk, a playful glint in her eyes—anything to indicate that she wasn’t serious. But the way she looked at him now, with a calm authority that seemed almost unnatural coming from her, sent an uncomfortable chill down his spine.

This wasn’t the Hua Jing he remembered.

The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

He glanced around, suddenly aware that the entire hall had gone eerily quiet.

Every eye was locked onto them.

The question she had posed—How should you be addressing me?—had not gone unnoticed.

Jiang Lei swallowed hard.

The weight of expectation pressed down on him as noblemen, scholars, and officials turned their attention to him, their gazes varying from amused to judgmental.

One of the older noblemen, a minister well-versed in court politics, stepped forward and cleared his throat.

"The tide has changed now, Scholar Jiang." His voice was smooth, filled with unspoken meaning. "She is, after all, royalty. No matter what happened in the past, you should still accord her the respect she deserves."

Jiang Lei stiffened.

He knew the man was only speaking up to curry favor with Hua Jing. The court was rife with rumors—rumors that the Seventh Consort held an unusual amount of affection from the prince.

If she were to rise even further in status...

If, by some miracle, she became a consort of higher standing, or worse, the empress...

Then every interaction with her now could determine their future.

Jiang Lei clenched his fists under his sleeves.

It was unbearable.

The idea of standing here and calling her Seventh Consort as if she were above him—it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Not long ago, she had been his.

Not long ago, she had clung to his every word, her gaze filled with admiration.

Not long ago, she had been soft-spoken and obedient, never daring to talk back to him.

And yet, the woman before him now?

She was cold. Distant.

And worst of all—completely indifferent.

As if their past meant nothing to her (The audacity!)

He whispered now, "Hua..."

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