MY PRINCE HUSBAND HAS SEVEN WIVES AND I AM HIS FAVOURITE!
Chapter 196: Then I will find him!

Chapter 196: Then I will find him!

The news of the impending coronation spread like wildfire across the empire, burning through every corridor, whispering into every ear. The entire palace, already cloaked in mourning black and weighed down by grief, was suddenly thrown into a new frenzy. Mourning clothes fluttered in the breeze like funeral banners, and yet, over them loomed the shadow of something far more sinister.

Inside the seventh consort’s courtyard, Hua Jing was pacing.

She had walked the same path over and over again, wearing down the finely embroidered silk rug beneath her sandals. Her hair, once elegantly styled, was now falling loose around her shoulders. Her eyes, bloodshot and tired, darted toward the gates every few seconds.

Xia Lin stood to the side, wringing her hands, worry etched into every line of her youthful face. "My lady, please, you need to calm down... pacing like this won’t bring the prince back."

But Hua Jing didn’t answer.

How could she? There was a storm roaring in her chest, growing louder with each moment Zhao Yan didn’t return. The words of the second consort still rang in her ears like a ghost bell: "They say the prince is dead."

Dead.

No. No. No!

It couldn’t be.

She had asked everyone. Every servant. Every guard. She had even tried to sneak past the barriers, but Pei Rong’s men were everywhere.

Xia Lin approached cautiously. "My lady... there’s more."

Hua Jing stopped pacing. Her breath caught. "More? What now?"

Xia Lin looked terrified to say it. But she did.

"I overheard something this morning. One of the inner palace maids said there’s going to be a coronation... in two days."

"What?!" Hua Jing spun so sharply Xia Lin flinched.

"Yes," she whispered. "They say... they say the new emperor will be named before the former emperor is even buried."

Hua Jing’s face darkened. "Have they all lost their minds?! The throne cannot be seated until the body of the emperor is committed to the earth! And Zhao Yan—his body hasn’t even been found!"

Xia Lin hesitated. "That’s not all."

Hua Jing stared at her. The silence was thunderous.

"I heard the first consort is preparing... she’s preparing to be named empress."

Silence.

Then an explosion.

"WHAT?!"

Hua Jing’s shriek echoed through the courtyard like a hawk’s cry.

"She’s already having her maids prepare ceremonial gowns. Quietly. Nothing official yet, but the rumors..."

Hua Jing didn’t hear the rest. Her mind had spiraled into a storm.

The first consort.

That snake!

Of course, she would slither in the moment Zhao Yan was out of sight. She had been obsessed with becoming empress, obsessed with outshining everyone—especially her.

And now that Zhao Yan was gone, the path was clear. Or so she thought.

Hua Jing trembled, hands clenched at her sides. Her nails dug crescents into her palms.

"She must have known," Hua Jing said in a low, trembling voice. "She must have known about the ambush. About the prince. This... this was all planned."

Xia Lin looked horrified. "My lady... what are you thinking?"

"Get me a disguise."

"W-what?! No, no, no! You can’t leave! If they catch you—"

"I won’t be caught."

"But the palace is full of soldiers! The prime minister’s men are crawling like maggots in every corner! If you step out of this courtyard—"

"I will not sit here! I will not wait like a caged bird while they trample over Zhao Yan’s legacy! I will do something, Xia Lin!"

The determination in her eyes was enough to freeze the sun.

"I don’t know where I will go, but I know this: the truth is somewhere out there. And if the first consort dares to crown herself over my husband’s supposed grave, then I will rip that crown off her head with my own two hands!"

Xia Lin tried again, voice cracking, "Please... just wait! Give it a day. What if the prince is alive? What if he’s—"

"Then I will find him!"

Xia Lin opened her mouth. Closed it.

Tears pooled in her eyes.

But Hua Jing had already turned, her silhouette framed by the glowing lanterns, her back straight, her shoulders high.

Xia Lin didn’t want to do it.

She hesitated, hands trembling slightly as she rummaged through a hidden chest beneath Hua Jing’s bed. The disguise wasn’t much—just a simple set of dark robes, tight at the waist, loose at the shoulders. It was something a stable boy might wear. Something meant to blend into the corners of the world.

But when she turned around and saw Hua Jing standing there, pale and thinner than ever, she knew she had no choice.

"My lady..." Xia Lin’s voice was already cracking.

Hua Jing didn’t say a word as she slipped into the garments. The dark cloth clung to her, revealing the weight she had lost over the last few days. Her hair was tied up beneath a hood, and her usually radiant face had dimmed, shadows settled beneath her eyes like bruises of the soul.

She looked... breakable.

Xia Lin tried not to cry. She tried very hard.

"You can’t be caught. You must not be caught," she whispered, taking Hua Jing’s trembling hands into hers.

Hua Jing looked up at her, eyes calm, but distant.

"If it’s the Crown Prince you’re going to find..." Xia Lin’s voice wavered. "Then bring him back. You have to bring him back."

Silence.

Then Hua Jing stepped closer, the tension in her shoulders softening just slightly.

She stared at Xia Lin.

A thousand things unsaid.

This woman... this girl had been the first person Hua Jing had seen when she opened her eyes in this strange, twisted version of the world. She didn’t know where she was. Who she was anymore. But Xia Lin had been there.

From day one.

She was the only one who had never changed.

The only one who had not questioned, doubted, betrayed.

Hua Jing’s hands suddenly shot forward.

She pulled Xia Lin into a tight embrace.

Tighter than any she had ever given.

Xia Lin froze.

Then... she shook.

"My lady—"

"Don’t call me that," Hua Jing said quietly.

Xia Lin buried her face in Hua Jing’s shoulder.

"Please come back. Please... come back safely."

"I will."

"You have to. Please. I’ll be waiting right here. I’ll wait no matter how long it takes."

"I know."

"Please. Please. Please come back safely."

She repeated it again.

And again.

And again.

Even as Hua Jing finally pulled away.

Even as the disguised figure of the Seventh Consort turned toward the door.

Even as the moonlight slipped through the wooden frame, outlining the sharp silhouette of a woman who was about to disappear into a world that wanted her dead.

"Please come back safely."

The door creaked open.

Then—

Gone.

Just like that.

Xia Lin stood frozen.

Hands clenched at her chest.

Tears slipping down her cheeks.

She whispered one last time into the empty room, her voice breaking—

"Please..."