MY PRINCE HUSBAND HAS SEVEN WIVES AND I AM HIS FAVOURITE!
Chapter 144: The last warmth she known was gone!

Chapter 144: The last warmth she known was gone!

Everything blurred together in a single, horrific moment.

Chen Li raised her hand. One of the guards stepped forward. The blade of his sword gleamed under the moonlight.

Hua Jing’s mother did not scream.

She did not run.

She only turned slightly, her eyes soft as she whispered her daughter’s name.

And then—

The snow was painted red.

A sharp cry tore from Hua Jing’s lips.

She tried to run forward, tried to reach her mother, but a strong force yanked her back. A hand clamped tightly over her mouth, muffling her sobs.

She struggled, kicking, thrashing, her small body trembling with the effort. But the grip did not loosen.

It was not the strength of a man, but of someone younger. Someone who knew she would scream.

Someone who did not want her to be seen.

Tears blurred Hua Jing’s vision as she watched, helpless, as the guards lifted her mother’s lifeless body and tossed it into the pond.

The water swallowed her whole, rippling softly before stilling once more.

The last warmth Hua Jing had ever known was gone.

And the night remained just as it was before—silent. Cold. Unforgiving.

Hua Jing did not know how much time had passed.

The world around her had blurred into a haze of snow and silence, her mind unable to comprehend what had just happened. Her mother—her warmth, her laughter, her entire world—was gone.

The weight of it was unbearable.

But the person holding her did not let go.

She could feel his panic, the way his small hands trembled slightly as he clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling the sobs that threatened to escape. His grip was tight, but not cruel. He was afraid, just like her.

Then—

A sharp, clipped voice cut through the night air.

"There’s someone here."

Hua Jing stiffened.

It was one of the guards.

Her breath hitched in her throat. Her small fingers dug into the sleeve of the boy holding her. He, too, went utterly still.

Another voice, deeper and more commanding, followed. "Find them."

And then—

The hand holding hers tightened, and before she could even react—

They were running.

Through the Snow

The boy dragged her through the thick snow, his steps swift and sure despite the ice beneath their feet. Hua Jing stumbled, her frozen toes barely keeping up, but he didn’t slow down.

Behind them, the guards were in pursuit.

Hua Jing could hear their footsteps crunching through the snow, their hurried shouts growing closer. The night was dark, but the moonlight reflected off the endless white landscape, illuminating their figures.

Her legs were aching.

Every step sent a sharp pain through her limbs. The cold had seeped into her bones, making her sluggish, making her weak. She wanted to stop, to collapse, but the boy ahead of her kept pulling her forward.

His grip was firm, unyielding.

Then, as if sensing her struggle, he glanced back.

Even through her blurry vision, Hua Jing could make out the strange golden mask covering the upper half of his face. The surface gleamed under the moonlight, extravagant and striking.

Who was he?

She had no time to think.

The boy looked past her, toward the approaching guards, then made a split-second decision.

He let go of her hand and crouched down in front of her.

"Hop on," he said.

Hua Jing barely had time to process his words before her body moved on instinct. She climbed onto his back, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as he hooked his hands under her legs and stood up.

And then—

He ran.

The boy moved fast, faster than Hua Jing thought possible for someone not much older than her. His feet barely seemed to touch the ground as he sprinted across the snow, weaving through the trees, his breath steady despite the bitter cold.

Hua Jing pressed her face against his shoulder, her fingers digging into his clothes as the wind whipped past them. She could still hear the guards, but their voices were growing fainter.

They were losing them.

The golden mask glinted in her peripheral vision. It was smooth and intricately designed, as if it belonged to someone important.

Not a servant.

Not an ordinary child.

The realization settled in her gut. Whoever he was, he was not like her.

And yet—

He had saved her.

The boy didn’t stop running until the sounds of their pursuers had completely faded into the distance. Even then, he didn’t slow down. He carried her for what felt like forever, until at last, he stumbled upon a small cave nestled between jagged rocks.

Carefully, he lowered her to the ground.

"Stay here," he instructed, brushing the snow from his clothes.

Hua Jing’s legs trembled as she sat down, her arms wrapping around herself. Her thin clothes did little to keep her warm, and the ice on her skin burned. But she barely noticed.

Everything that had just happened—her mother, the blood, the pond—came crashing down on her all at once.

The pain was unbearable.

The weight of it pressed against her chest, suffocating.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to wail. She wanted to throw herself into the snow and sob until she couldn’t breathe.

The boy looked at her once, then turned his head away.

"Just cry," he said quietly. "I won’t look."

Something in his voice, so steady, so calm, broke her.

Hua Jing’s face crumpled.

She screamed.

She sobbed so hard that her small body trembled, tears burning tracks down her frozen cheeks. She cried for her mother, for the warmth she would never feel again, for the love that had been ripped away from her.

Her cries echoed in the small cave, carried away by the wind.

And the boy—

He said nothing.

He sat beside her, silent and unmoving, as if he knew that there were no words that could fix what had been broken.

Only when her sobs quieted, reduced to small hiccups and shuddering breaths, did he finally move.

He pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and held it out to her.

It was pristine. Pure white.

An expensive thing for a child to carry.

Hua Jing sniffled and hesitantly took it, wiping at her tear-streaked face. The fabric smelled clean, comforting.

Then, the boy spoke.

"You need to go back," he said. "Before they notice you’re gone."

At those words, a chill that had nothing to do with the cold crawled down Hua Jing’s spine.

If they found out... if they knew she had seen everything...

She shuddered. "I don’t want to die," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

The boy nodded, as if he had expected that answer. He stood up and held out his hand.

"Let me take you back."

Hua Jing stared at his hand, her fingers tightening around the handkerchief.

A thought slipped into her mind—one that burned with a fire she had never felt before.

One day, I will avenge what happened to my mother.

She lifted her gaze to the boy.

He was watching her, the golden mask gleaming even in the darkness.

His lips curved slightly—not quite a smile, not quite pity. Just a quiet understanding.

"Well," he said, "you need to start by going back first. Before you get killed... before you even start planning your revenge."

For some reason, his words calmed her.

As if they were a promise.

Hua Jing slowly reached forward, slipping her small hand into his.

And together, they walked through the snow, side by side, back toward the Hua Mansion.

Back to the place where her nightmare had begun.

Back to the place where, one day, she would bring it all crumbling down!

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