MY PRINCE HUSBAND HAS SEVEN WIVES AND I AM HIS FAVOURITE!
Chapter 63: Was that you?

Chapter 63: Was that you?

Hua Jing stood frozen in the hospital corridor, her eyes glued to the chaotic scene unfolding before her. Doctors and nurses bustled around the patient in the bed, their voices urgent, commands sharp, and movements precise. Her heart clenched painfully as she strained to catch a glimpse of the figure on the bed, but the staff obstructed her view at every turn.

She took a hesitant step forward, her pulse pounding in her ears. Who is it? The nagging feeling in her chest grew unbearable, her breath catching as she tried to move closer. But before she could pass through the door to see, her vision began to blur.

"No... no, not now," she whispered, her voice trembling as her consciousness dimmed. Her surroundings flickered like a dying light, and panic clawed at her chest. "Please, no... not yet. I need to see who it is."

Her pleas went unanswered. The hallway, the doctors, the muffled cries, and the figure on the bed—all of it faded, leaving only darkness.

Hua Jing jolted awake with a gasp, her entire body drenched in cold sweat. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tried to make sense of where she was.

The warm, dim interior of the carriage replaced the stark white of the hospital, and the smell of snow and cedar filled her nose. Her fingers curled against the plush seat, and it took her a moment to realize she was no longer dreaming.

Across from her, Zhao Yan sat, his sharp gaze fixed on her. His brows were furrowed in quiet concern, and his posture was slightly leaned forward, as if ready to act.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice low but steady. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Hua Jing blinked at him, her mind still caught in the fading remnants of her dream. Relief flooded through her as her gaze locked onto his familiar figure—unharmed, calm, and very much alive. She let out a shaky exhale and muttered softly, "Such a relief..."

Zhao Yan’s brows drew together further. "What is the relief?"

She shook her head quickly, trying to push away the lingering dread. "It’s nothing. Just a bad dream."

Zhao Yan’s eyes remained on her, studying her expression closely. He didn’t seem convinced, but he leaned back in his seat, his hands retreating from where they had been on her shoulders.

"You’ve been having bad dreams a lot lately," he observed, his voice neutral but lined with curiosity.

Hua Jing let out a hollow laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "Can you blame me? With all the chaos we’ve been through—fires, ambushes, assassins with flaming arrows—it’s like we’ve been cursed."

Zhao Yan’s expression didn’t change, but his voice softened. "Don’t worry. Everything will be sorted out soon."

His words, spoken with quiet conviction, surprised her. She tilted her head, staring at him. "Sorted out? You sound pretty confident for someone who’s been dragged into danger at every turn."

A faint smirk played on Zhao Yan’s lips. "I’ve always been confident. Chaos or not."

Hua Jing rolled her eyes, though her lips quirked upward despite herself. "Well, your confidence is commendable, Your Highness."

Zhao Yan’s smirk widened, but he said nothing further, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before turning to look out the window.

Hua Jing’s thoughts drifted back to her dream. The image of Wei Ling’s frantic face and the obscured figure on the hospital bed haunted her.

Was it you, Zhao Yan? Was that you?

Her heart twisted painfully, but she quickly pushed the thought aside. For now, she told herself, she was just glad to see him here—safe and sound.

The carriage continued its journey, the wheels crunching over the snowy path as the winter sun peeked through the trees. Hua Jing sat in silence, her gaze drifting toward Zhao Yan, who sat across from her, staring out the window.

For a long moment, her eyes lingered on him. She wasn’t entirely sure why. Perhaps it was because they were the only two in the carriage, or because this was the longest time they had spent alone together without the weight of immediate danger hanging over them.

Her gaze traced the outline of his mask, the ornate accessory concealing most of his face. Yet, the lower half—the sharp line of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips—remained visible. The more she looked, the stronger the sense of familiarity became, tugging at her memory like a forgotten melody.

Why does it feel like I’ve seen him before?

The thought was absurd. She had no memory of Zhao Yan before her arrival in this world. Yet, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she knew him from somewhere.

She remembered the man on the bed connected to Wei Ling

She had only seen a part of his face. She turned to stare at Zhao Yan’s half visible face and frowned.

They were eerily similar!

Her brows furrowed slightly, and her head tilted as she studied him further. If he took off that mask... would he look even better?

Her musings were abruptly interrupted by Zhao Yan’s voice, smooth and laced with amusement. "Am I that handsome?"

Hua Jing froze, her cheeks heating instantly. She hadn’t realized how openly she had been staring.

"I... I wasn’t staring!" she stammered, straightening in her seat and tearing her eyes away.

Zhao Yan leaned back slightly, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You’ve been looking at me for quite some time. If not my face, then what has your attention?"

"Your... mask!" Hua Jing retorted quickly, crossing her arms defensively. "I was wondering why you insist on wearing it all the time. It must be uncomfortable."

Zhao Yan’s smirk widened, and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Ah, I see. So you’re curious about what’s underneath."

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, her face flushing further. "That’s not what I said!"

Zhao Yan chuckled softly, clearly enjoying her reaction. "Don’t worry. If you’re that curious, you’ll see one day."

He even winked at the end!

Hua Jing scoffed, turning her head to look out the window instead. "Who says I’m curious? Keep your mask on for all I care!"

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