MY PRINCE HUSBAND HAS SEVEN WIVES AND I AM HIS FAVOURITE!
Chapter 51: You are the last person I’d get ideas about!

Chapter 51: You are the last person I’d get ideas about!

she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Zhao Yan blinked, tearing his gaze away. "Nothing," he muttered, turning his head to the side.

Hua Jing raised an eyebrow, brushing off the odd moment as she went to settle herself in the room. However, as she took in the sight of the small space, a sudden realization hit her like a bolt of lightning.

There was only one bed.

Her eyes darted to the bed where Zhao Yan was already lounging. She blinked rapidly, her mind racing. Wait, this can’t be right. Where am I supposed to sleep?

Her gaze swept around the room, searching for another option, but there wasn’t even a spare chair or a couch. She could practically hear the universe laughing at her predicament.

This is karma, she thought bitterly, her shoulders slumping. If I had just kept my mouth shut back at the honeymoon place instead of bragging about how perfect we are as a couple, maybe I wouldn’t be stuck in this situation right now.

Hua Jing’s internal dialogue kicked into overdrive. "No problem," she whispered to herself, pacing back and forth. "I’ll just sleep on the floor. Yes, that’s it. The floor isn’t that bad... Except it’s freezing. And I’ll wake up covered in frost." She paused, tapping her chin. "Maybe I can ask for another room—no, that’ll ruin the whole perfect couple charade."

She let out a long groan, throwing her head back dramatically.

"What are you doing?" Zhao Yan’s voice broke through her thoughts.

Hua Jing froze mid-motion, realizing she had been muttering aloud and gesturing wildly. She turned to see Zhao Yan staring at her, his expression a mixture of confusion and mild concern.

"Nothing!" she said quickly, waving him off. "Just... thinking."

Zhao Yan sat up, his brow furrowing. "Thinking about what?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Your Highness," she said with an exaggerated smile.

Zhao Yan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he leaned back against the headboard, watching her with a bewildered look as she resumed her pacing.

This is so unfair, Hua Jing thought bitterly, her hands clenching into fists. Why do I have to share a bed with him? She snuck a glance at Zhao Yan, who seemed to be enjoying her internal turmoil. His faint smirk made her blood boil.

"Are you going to keep pacing all night, or are you planning to sleep?" he asked casually, his tone laced with amusement.

Hua Jing stopped in her tracks, glaring at him. "Some of us don’t have the luxury of sprawling out on a bed without a care in the world."

Zhao Yan tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Oh? And why is that?"

Hua Jing pointed an accusing finger at him. "Because you’re hogging the only bed in this room!"

Zhao Yan raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching as if he were trying not to laugh. "Well, it’s not my fault this is the only accommodation available."

Hua Jing crossed her arms, glaring at him. "Move over, Your Highness."

Zhao Yan’s smirk deepened as he shifted slightly to one side of the bed. "There. Problem solved."

Hua Jing stared at the small space he’d left, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You call that space?"

"Well, you’re not exactly large," he shot back, clearly enjoying her frustration.

Hua Jing rolled her eyes but realized she had no choice. Muttering under her breath about karma and inconsiderate princes, she climbed onto the bed, keeping as much distance between them as possible.

Zhao Yan chuckled softly, earning another glare from her.

"Don’t get any ideas," she warned.

"Trust me," he said, his tone dry. "You’re the last person I’d get ideas about."

Hua Jing scoffed, turning her back to him. "Good."

As the room fell into an awkward silence, Zhao Yan found himself staring at the back of Hua Jing’s head.

He still couldn’t understand why this woman, who was so different from anyone he’d ever known, had started occupying his thoughts.

Hua Jing, meanwhile, lay stiffly on her side, muttering under her breath. "This is the worst. Just wait, Zhao Yan. One day I’ll have a bigger bed than you, and you’ll be the one stuck in the corner!"

Zhao Yan couldn’t help but smile at her childish grumbling.

Hua Jing mumbled softly, her words incoherent, trailing off as her body succumbed to the exhaustion she had been fighting against all day.

Zhao Yan stayed perfectly still, watching her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

Her breathing evened out, and soon she was fast asleep, her features softening in slumber.

He waited a moment longer, ensuring she was truly asleep, before leaning down to gently pull the covers over her.

His movements were deliberate, his touch light as if afraid the slightest motion would disturb her. His voice dropped to a whisper.

"Sleep well, Hua Jing," he murmured, the words barely audible.

Then, with painstaking care, Zhao Yan slid off the bed, his feet making no sound against the floor.

He moved toward the bathroom, his steps purposeful yet silent, glancing back once to ensure she remained undisturbed.

Inside the bathroom, the lingering warmth of the room embraced him as he stepped closer to the tub.

The water was still faintly steaming, carrying the subtle fragrance of flowers that Hua Jing had likely used earlier.

Zhao Yan hesitated for a moment, his fingers brushing the surface of the water.

It was tainted with faint streaks of red from Hua Jing’s wounds, but instead of being repulsed, Zhao Yan felt an odd sense of closeness, a connection that he couldn’t quite place.

He stepped into the tub, lowering himself into the warm water, letting it envelop him entirely.

"Ah!

He said softly as he felt the soothing of his muscles.

For a moment, Zhao Yan simply leaned back, his eyes closing as the tension in his muscles slowly melted away.

The heat worked its way into his skin, easing the aches and bruises he had accumulated.

Yet, it wasn’t just the physical relief that he felt.

The faint traces of Hua Jing’s presence in the water—her scent, her essence—brought an unexpected sense of calm, almost as if she were still there.

His thoughts spiraled quickly when he thought about her in here...

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