The emperor’s sudden rise from his seat shifted the entire atmosphere in the grand banquet hall. In an instant, every noble and guest, previously seated, stood up with synchronized precision. The collective rustle of robes echoed through the room, and with a unified motion, they all bowed deeply, their foreheads nearly touching the floor in a sign of utmost respect.
"Long live Your Majesty!" they shouted in unison, their voices filled with reverence, the words resonating throughout the vast hall.
Prince Zhao Yan, who had been seated beside Hua Jing, stood up imdiately, his posture straight and dignified.
Hua Jing followed suit, her gown brushing the floor as she gracefully rose beside him.
Her movents were impeccable and Xia Lin, who was behind her, smiled.
Both of them remained in a respectful, kneeling posture, waiting for the emperor’s words.
The emperor’s gaze swept across the room, taking in the noble families and dignitaries who filled the grand hall.
He paused for a mont, a slight nod of satisfaction at the sight before him.
His eyes, however, soon found their focus on his son, Zhao Yan, standing proud yet humble beside his new bride, Hua Jing.
A soft smile played at the corners of the emperor’s lips, his expression filled with an unspoken affection for his son.
"Today is a happy occasion," the emperor’s voice resonated throughout the hall, his words steady and clear.
"Because the Crown Prince has found soone he has been searching for, for a very long ti."
A hushed silence fell over the room, as every guest listened intently, eager to hear the emperor’s next words.
"This banquet," the emperor continued, his tone taking on a more solemn note, "has been prepared to welco my son back from his honeymoon and to celebrate his good health."
He paused for a mont, his eyes montarily distant, as if recalling sothing private, sothing dear. "It is also a ti for new beginnings."
A brief silence followed, before the emperor cleared his throat, the regal presence of the mont unmistakable.
"And now," he said, his voice rising with authority, "I would like for my son, Crown Prince Zhao Yan, to say a word to all of you." The room fell into a quiet anticipation, every eye turning toward the prince.
As the emperor’s command echoed through the hall, Zhao Yan bowed deeply in respect to his father.
"Thank you, Royal Father," he said with a voice filled with both gratitude and duty.
Rising gracefully, he took a step forward, his gaze falling on Hua Jing.
He extended his hand toward her, a silent invitation. Hua Jing, caught off guard by the gesture, hesitated.
Zhao Yan raised an eyebrow while Hua Jing sighed exasperatedly.
Fine!
The weight of the eyes upon them—every noble, every dignitary waiting with bated breath—made her decision for her.
With a subtle sigh, she placed her hand in his, their fingers locking together in a smooth, almost effortless clasp.
Together, they walked toward the center of the hall, the room quiet but for the sound of their footsteps. The sight of them, side by side, was breathtaking.
Zhao Yan, tall and commanding in his ceremonial robes, exuded power and grace.
Hua Jing, in her royal red robes, was a vision of elegance and poise.
Their robes, rich in gold and crimson, shimred in the light, a perfect match for each other, creating a picture of harmony and balance.
As they moved forward, every guest in the hall bowed once again, the gesture flowing with practiced precision.
"Long live the Crown Prince! Long live the Seventh Consort!"
they chanted in unison, their voices rising with fervor, reverence, and admiration.
The pair continued walking, their matching appearances like sothing out of a royal fairytale, their hands clasped tightly as the world around them filled with amazent, animosity and jealousy!
Hua Jing felt it almost imdiately—the burning jealousy that radiated from every corner of the room becos even more intense!
She blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the oppressive weight of their gazes.
It was hard to focus on anything other than the suffocating scrutiny surrounding her.
But she did her best to concentrate on Zhao Yan, trying to block out the envious thoughts swirling in her mind.
As their hands remained clasped, all she could focus on was the steady rhythm of their heartbeats which were weirdly in sync where their hands clasped
Zhao Yan, ever the eloquent speaker, opened his mouth to address the crowd, his voice steady and warm. "Thank you for coming, and thank you for honoring the Crown’s invitation and being here tonight," he began. "My new bride and I welco you with open hearts."
Hua Jing’s thoughts wandered for a mont, still distracted by the tensions in the room, but her attention snapped back as she realized that Zhao Yan had paused.
The prince stood still, his gaze faltering as he seed to struggle with his next words. The crowd fell silent, waiting for him to continue.
But when he tried to speak again, his voice faltered. "We..." he began, but then there was a long pause. He tried again, but this ti, his voice cracked, and the word didn’t co out.
"We..." His words were almost inaudible, and a subtle tremor ran through his body.
The silence deepened, and Hua Jing, sensing that sothing was wrong, turned toward him.
Her heart raced as she noticed the sudden change in his deanor. His face, usually composed, seed to have gone pale, and his posture was no longer steady.
"Zhao Yan, are you okay?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, filled with concern.
Zhao Yan turned to look at her, his eyes wide with discomfort. The golden mask on his face glead in the light, but his usual confidence seed to have vanished.
"I don’t feel too well," he whispered back, his voice strained.
Before Hua Jing could respond, Zhao Yan’s body swayed dangerously, and then, with no warning, he collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud.
The room erupted into chaos. The emperor, who had been standing in the corner, his expression regal, dropped his goblet onto the floor with a clatter. His face twisted in panic as he rushed toward his son.
"What is wrong with the prince?" he bellowed, his voice filled with desperation and disbelief.
The noblewon, once filled with jealousy, now shrieked in alarm, their high-pitched cries echoing through the hall.
"The prince has fainted! The prince has fainted!" they scread, their voices rising in a crescendo of panic.
In between all of this, Hua Jing, who had sohow still registered what was going on shouted,
"Zhao Yan!"
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