Hua Jing was in a foul mood for the rest of the day.
Every ti she recalled just how close she had been to seeing his face, her frustration bubbled up all over again.
That face—the one that had annoyed her for so long, the one she had secretly wanted to see—had been right in front of her. Yet, she had missed it.
How could she not rember?!
It made her so angry she had the urge to kick sothing. And so, she did.
A small plant was silently standing by the side when it was suddenly kicked!
If it had a voice it would be screaming, I am innocent! Go ask the prince to show you his face if you are that desperate!
Hua Jing seed to know what the plant was thinking and kicked it again!
The plant, "..."
What was wrong with this wicked woman?
Xia Lin, watching from the side, let out a deep sigh, her arms crossed as she observed her lady’s childish behavior.
Every few minutes, Hua Jing would shift restlessly, her feet kicking out at nothing, her lips pressing into a pout, her fingers curling tightly into the blankets.
She looked like a heartbroken lover, utterly devastated at the thought of missing her beloved’s face.
Xia Lin couldn’t help but romanticize the entire situation.
Her lady had wanted to see the prince’s face so badly...
That must an she secretly likes him!
Xia Lin had read so many romance novels, and they always followed the sa pattern. First, there was bickering, then denial, then a mont of realization—and before they knew it, love had already blood.
Wasn’t this exactly what was happening here?!
She even imagined it now—Hua Jing finally seeing the prince’s bare face and falling hopelessly in love.
But Hua Jing, still kicking her legs in frustration, was thinking about sothing completely different.
If I had seen that face, I would have told him how ugly he looked.
Of course, she knew that was a lie.
The probability of Zhao Yan being ugly was close to zero. But still, she wanted to have that satisfaction.
Her train of thought was interrupted when a new visitor arrived at her courtyard.
She froze, her body going cold.
Xia Lin, sensing the shift in the air, turned toward the entrance.
Hua Jing slowly followed her gaze, and when she saw who it was, her expression darkened instantly.
A smug smile t her own, and an irritatingly sweet voice followed.
"My dear sister, it’s been so long."
Hua Jing exhaled sharply, already feeling her mood souring even further.
"I already said I was going to co to your wedding," she stated, her voice flat and unamused. "Is there a need for you to show up at my doorstep like this?"
Hua Ling.
Dressed in an exquisite robe, her posture practiced and poised, Hua Ling looked like the perfect noble lady. But Hua Jing knew better.
As Hua Ling stepped closer, her gaze flickered to the marks on Hua Jing’s wrists—the ones left behind from last night’s torture.
Sothing flickered in Hua Ling’s eyes.
Satisfaction.
She smirked, though she quickly masked it with feigned concern.
"I heard you had a near-death experience yesterday," she mused, tilting her head slightly. "I could have co to save you, but..."
She let out a sigh, her tone dripping with mock sympathy.
"The stars were just too beautiful last night. I couldn’t risk missing them."
Xia Lin’s jaw tightened, her hands clenching into fists.
Hua Jing, however, let out a small scoff, shaking her head.
"Your worry was unnecessary."
She leaned forward slightly, her lips curling into sothing mocking.
"As you can see, I’m still here. Alive and well."
Hua Ling’s smile wavered for a split second before she quickly recovered.
"Yes, unfortunately."
Her voice was light, but her words were poisoned daggers.
"I know you would have wanted to be gone, but look at this," she gestured at Hua Jing with an almost triumphant glint in her eyes. "Your plans have been destroyed once again."
Hua Jing’s brows arched slightly.
"My plans?" she repeated, feigning confusion. "What plans?"
Hua Ling’s expression darkened.
There was no need to pretend anymore.
"Why didn’t you die?"
Her voice was low, bitter.
Hua Jing didn’t react—not imdiately.
She simply observed her, taking in every detail.
Hua Ling’s hatred ran deep.
It was the sa hatred Hua Jing had witnessed in her other life, back when she had been floating in the hospital as a spirit.
Hua Ling, in both worlds, had wished for her death.
But why?
Why did she hate her so much?
Hua Jing was the daughter of a mistress, born from a scandalous affair between Hua Mingrong and a lowly maid. Her very existence had been a stain on the Hua family’s reputation.
Her father had hated her from the start, turning a blind eye to everything that happened to her under his roof.
Hua Ling and her mother had tortured her every chance they got, treating her as less than a person.
And now, looking at her, Hua Jing had to wonder—was this jealousy? Was it resentnt? Or was it sothing deeper?
She let out a slow breath, her lips curling into sothing cold.
"You know," she mused, tilting her head slightly, "you people have tried this before."
Hua Ling’s brows furrowed slightly.
"What?"
Hua Jing let out a dry laugh, raising her scarred wrist slightly.
"The torture. The pain. You tried it on before back at the Hua Mansion, didn’t you?"
She needed to know what happened back at the Hua mansion in order for her to know the extent of it all.
Saying this was just a way of trying to get a rough idea of what happened there right from the horses mouth!
Hua Ling’s eyes flickered—just for a second.
The thoughts of Hua Jing in that torture chamber ca back at this mont and she would be lying if she said she did not enjoy it.
But...
Hua Jing chuckled softly.
"And yet, I still survived."
She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"What makes you think this ti would be any different?"
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