MY PRINCE HUSBAND HAS SEVEN WIVES AND I AM HIS FAVOURITE!
Chapter 32: Indescribable fear

Chapter 32: Indescribable fear

He was caught off guard by the worry etched in her face.

For a moment, he didn’t know what to make of it.

Her eyes held a sincerity that struck something deep within him, a feeling he couldn’t quite place.

But there was no time to dwell on it.

Before he could think further, he turned and rushed toward the flames, the wet cloth shielding him from the worst of the heat.

Hua Jing was left alone, the sound of the fire roaring louder than ever.

She stared after him, her heart pounding for reasons she didn’t fully understand.

"Please find her," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Hua Jing’s gaze was fixed on the direction Zhao Yan had gone, her heart pounding with an unfamiliar urgency.

She didn’t hear the first creak.

The sound was faint, almost swallowed by the roaring fire, but then it came again, louder this time.

A sharp, splintering noise followed, and her eyes widened as she looked up instinctively.

Above her, the pavilion’s tall, umbrella-like structure had begun to collapse.

Her breath hitched as she saw it descending rapidly, a dark shadow blotting out the flames.

Her body froze.

There was no time to react, no chance to jump out of the way.

All she could see was the looming structure hurtling toward her.

---

Zhao Yan had just stepped into the burning room when he suddenly stopped.

Something wasn’t right.

His heart raced in a way he couldn’t explain, a gnawing feeling pulling at him.

It wasn’t just the danger of the flames or the urgency of finding Xia Lin.

No, this was something else entirely.

His chest tightened, and for a brief moment, he found himself contemplating going back to Hua Jing.

Why? he thought, his brows furrowing.

Why do I feel like I need to be with her right now?

He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought, but it lingered stubbornly.

Every instinct told him to turn around, to go back to where he had left her.

But then a faint cough drew his attention, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Help..."

The sound was weak, almost drowned by the crackling fire, but it was enough.

Zhao Yan turned toward the corner of the room and saw her—Xia Lin.

She was slumped against the wall, her leg trapped between two heavy chairs.

The firelight cast shadows on her pale face, and her labored breathing sent a surge of urgency through him.

Without hesitation, Zhao Yan moved, dodging falling embers and flames as he made his way toward her.

"Xia Lin!" he called out, his voice firm but laced with worry.

Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice.

For a moment, she seemed disoriented, her gaze unfocused, but then recognition dawned.

"Your Highness..." she whispered weakly, her voice barely audible.

Zhao Yan dropped to his knees beside her, assessing the situation.

The chairs were wedged tightly against her leg, pinning her in place.

"Don’t move," he said sharply, though his tone softened when he saw the pain etched on her face.

"I’ll get you out of here."

He grabbed one of the chairs and pulled with all his strength, his muscles straining against the resistance.

The chair shifted slightly, but it wasn’t enough.

Xia Lin winced, a soft cry escaping her lips.

"Hold on," Zhao Yan said, his voice steady despite the chaos around them.

He adjusted his grip and tried again, this time using his full weight to dislodge the chairs.

With a loud creak, they finally came free, and Xia Lin slumped forward into his arms.

Her breathing was shallow, her body weak, but she was alive.

"Your Highness..." she murmured again, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Stay awake!" Zhao Yan commanded, shaking her gently.

"We’re getting out of here!"

He lifted her into his arms effortlessly, her small frame almost weightless against his chest.

The flames roared around them, the heat searing his skin, but he pushed forward.

His thoughts were a whirlwind as he carried Xia Lin toward the exit.

The pull in his chest hadn’t disappeared.

If anything, it had grown stronger.

Hua Jing...

Zhao Yan moved swiftly, his eyes scanning the courtyard as he carried Xia Lin in his arms.

The fire’s intensity had started to weaken in some areas, the falling snow hissing softly as it met the flames.

Yet, the heat still burned fiercely in others, casting ominous shadows across the destruction.

As he reached the pavilion where he had last left Hua Jing, his steps faltered.

She wasn’t there.

The spot where she had been standing just moments ago was now empty, the space eerily quiet save for the crackling of the fire.

His chest tightened, his breath catching in his throat.

"Hua Jing!" he called out, his voice ringing with desperation.

"Hua Jing!"

There was no answer.

His heart pounded in his ears as panic gripped him.

He lowered Xia Lin gently to the ground, his movements almost mechanical.

"Your Highness..." Xia Lin’s voice was weak, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Please, put me down."

Zhao Yan obliged without a word, setting her carefully onto a patch of ground that the snow had begun to blanket.

Xia Lin winced as pain shot through her injured leg, but she pushed it aside.

She could see the fear etched across the prince’s face, a look she had never thought she would witness.

"Hua Jing!" Zhao Yan shouted again, his voice cracking.

Xia Lin joined in, her own calls echoing in the night.

"Hua Jing! Hua Jing, where are you?"

The snow continued to fall, softening the edges of the chaos around them, but the absence of Hua Jing made the world feel sharper, more perilous.

Zhao Yan’s mind raced, a thousand terrible thoughts crowding his head.

What if a beam fell on her?

What if she couldn’t escape?

What if... she’s gone?

He swallowed hard, pushing the thought away as his gaze fell on the collapsed shade nearby.

It had fallen in a circular heap, its wooden frame still glowing with embers.

His blood ran cold.

She could be trapped underneath.

Without hesitation, Zhao Yan moved toward it, his expression grim.

"Your Highness, wait!" Xia Lin cried, her voice filled with alarm.

"Your hands will burn!"

But Zhao Yan didn’t stop.

He dropped to his knees, grabbing the edges of the smoldering wood with his bare hands.

The heat seared his skin immediately, but he ignored the pain.

"I have to find her," he muttered, his voice low and determined.

"Hua Jing!"

He gritted his teeth, his muscles straining as he tried to lift the heavy structure.

Smoke stung his eyes, blurring his vision, but he didn’t falter.

Xia Lin’s tears streamed down her face as she watched the prince’s desperate attempts.

"Your Highness, please stop!" she begged.

"You’ll hurt yourself!"

But Zhao Yan couldn’t hear her.

All he could think about was the possibility that Hua Jing was trapped beneath the debris.

The mere thought of losing her sent a wave of despair crashing over him.

He was afraid—terrified in a way he hadn’t been in years.

"Hua Jing!" he shouted again, his voice raw.

And then, just as he prepared to make another attempt, a soft voice called from behind him.

"Your Highness?"

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