MY PRINCE HUSBAND HAS SEVEN WIVES AND I AM HIS FAVOURITE!
Chapter 154: Aching, familiar pity

Chapter 154: Aching, familiar pity

"Seventh Consort, my prince—please wait!"

The voice was thin, breathless, desperate.

Hua Jing froze.

That voice...

She knew that voice.

Turning sharply, her eyes fell upon the frail figure stumbling toward them.

Mei Rong.

The maid from before. The Jiang family’s maid—the one she had spoken to at the wedding banquet, the one who had been so anxious, her eyes darting around as though she held a terrible secret she dared not reveal.

Now, she was in complete ruin.

Her hair was disheveled, her robes torn and dirt-streaked, her feet bare and bruised from the rough ground. But most striking of all—

Her slightly swollen belly.

She was pregnant.

Hua Jing’s heart clenched.

No.

Jiang Lei’s child.

She had known. Of course, she had known.

She had planned to use this very fact to ruin the wedding, to throw Mei Rong into the banquet hall at the right moment, to watch Hua Ling’s carefully built future with Jiang Lei come crumbling down.

This had been a plan all along to ensure that the wedding would not take place but now...

But things had changed. The wedding had already descended into chaos, and she had momentarily forgotten about the poor woman.

But now—

Now, Mei Rong was here.

And she was begging.

Hua Jing stepped forward just as Mei Rong fell to her knees.

Her hands grasped the hem of Hua Jing’s robes, her entire body trembling.

It was a safe she was clinging on for dear life

"Seventh Consort, please," she sobbed, her voice hoarse with desperation. "I have nowhere else to go. You are the only person who can save me!"

Hua Jing’s chest tightened.

She reached down, gripping Mei Rong’s arms, pulling her upright. "What happened?" she demanded. "Tell me—what did he do?"

Mei Rong swallowed back another sob, her swollen belly rising and falling with her ragged breaths.

"I did as you asked," she whispered. "I told them. I told him. I told Jiang Lei that I carried his child."

Hua Jing braced herself.

She already knew what was coming.

But that didn’t make the words hurt any less.

"And?" she pressed.

Mei Rong’s lips trembled violently. "He... he refused. He denied me. He said I was nothing but a lying servant, that I was shameless for trying to drag him down."

Hua Jing clenched her jaw.

Of course he did.

There was no way in this world Jiang Lei would ever accept a child born from a maid.

"But that’s not all," Mei Rong whispered.

Hua Jing’s stomach twisted.

"He... he had me lashed."

A sharp breath sucked from her lungs.

Zhao Yan’s hand, still holding hers, tensed.

Mei Rong’s voice cracked with pain. "I begged. I begged him to stop. But he didn’t care. He had the guards... he had them beat me."

Hua Jing’s head snapped toward Mei Rong’s body, her eyes darting over her arms, her shoulders—

And there.

Barely visible beneath the ripped fabric of her robes—dark, ugly welts marred her once-smooth skin.

Rage.

It surged up inside her like wildfire.

"You mean to tell me," she hissed, voice shaking, "that that bastard dared to have you beaten while you were pregnant?"

Mei Rong’s entire body trembled. "He said it was punishment," she whimpered. "He said I was trying to ruin his future."

Hua Jing laughed.

A cold, merciless laugh.

His future?

His future?

Did he even have a future to think about?

What about the future of the woman kneeling before her? What about the future of the child she carried?

She could feel Zhao Yan beside her, his body radiating fury.

But Hua Jing was far past fury.

She was filled with something else entirely.

Something deadly.

Jiang Lei.

She should have killed him in that banquet hall.

She should have had him dragged to his knees and publicly torn apart the moment he abandoned her for her wretched half-sister.

She should have completely and utterly destroyed his image in front of all these peoples so much so that he had no way to salvage himself in front of the elite!

And now—

Now, he had dared to lay his hands on a woman carrying his own blood.

Just how low was he willing to go?

She was starting to suspect that this child may have been the product of something else and not think about budding romance!

He might have forced himself on her!

No wonder the poor woman looked so afraid

Hua Jing inhaled sharply, forcing the pure hatred bubbling in her chest to settle.

Mei Rong’s hands shook as she clung to Hua Jing’s robes. "Please," she whispered. "Please, Seventh Consort. I have nowhere to go. If I stay... if they find me again, they will kill me. I know they will."

This was a no brainer. With how much blood Hua Ling was craving, there was no way she was going to let her off!

Hua Jing looked down at the woman before her.

A discarded, broken thing.

Used. Thrown away. Left to fend for herself.

Just like she had been.

For the first time in a long time, something other than rage swelled inside her.

Pity.

Aching, familiar pity.

Her fingers curled around Mei Rong’s wrist, steadying her. "Don’t beg," she said softly. "You are not the one who should be begging. He is."

Mei Rong’s breath hitched.

Hua Jing turned her gaze to Zhao Yan. "Is there a place she can be taken to?"

Zhao Yan didn’t hesitate.

"Wei Ling," he called.

The ever-loyal Wei Ling stepped forward from where he had been waiting near the carriages.

"Take her somewhere safe," Zhao Yan ordered.

Wei Ling gave a firm nod, stepping forward to gently help Mei Rong up.

The young woman clung to him, weak and unsteady on her feet.

Hua Jing exhaled.

It was done.

Mei Rong was safe.

For now.

But even as she watched Wei Ling guide her away, something inside her twisted.

An unshakable feeling—

A warning.

Her stomach coiled with unease.

She did not know why but she could not shake this feeling no matter what!

She shook her head and forgot about it all before getting into the carriage with Zhao Yan.

She exhaled softly and the journey back home quickly started...

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