"Sit," the prince said, his voice cold and commanding as he gestured to the empty seat across from him.
Hua Jing folded her arms across her chest, tilting her chin defiantly. "No."
She disliked people telling her what to do and because she found Zhao Yan annoying to look at, she defied him even more!
Zhao Yan's brows furrowed slightly, his composure slipping just enough to betray his irritation.
He still did not understand what was happening. This woman did not have any regards for the etiquette and seemed to be using a different brain cell to think!
Could an accident cause someone to change this much?
The doctor said that her fall although bad, there was no serious damage inflicted so how could he explain Hua Ling's sudden personality change?
"I'm not that hungry," Hua Jing added, her tone casual as she looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on his mask with an unmistakable air of mockery. "Say what you need to say, Your Highness, and I'll be on my way."
The prince's jaw tightened. "Until when are you going to keep speaking like this?"
It was getting irritating.
Hua Jing's lips curled into a smirk as she let out a soft laugh. "Haven't I always been like this? Why do you think I've changed so much, Your Highness?"
She asked tha you gauge if this man knew her. Xia Lin had said that he had insisted on the marriage himself so he might know who Hua Jing was before the accident.
Zhao Yan didn't answer immediately, his gaze narrowing behind the mask. He thought about it—just for a moment—but quickly dismissed the idea.
He felt that it was beneath him to respond to such a ridiculous question. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his posture rigid but controlled, refusing to give her the satisfaction.
Hua Jing tilted her head, clearly unimpressed. "What? No clever comeback? Cat got your tongue?"
"You're insufferable," Zhao Yan said through gritted teeth.
"Thank you," Hua Jing replied brightly, as if he had just paid her the highest compliment.
Their back-and-forth continued, the tension between them crackling like static in the air.
"You will sit," Zhao Yan said finally, his tone more commanding now.
"And you will stop ordering me around like I'm one of your lackeys," Hua Jing shot back. "I'm not interested in breakfast. What's next? Are you going to dictate how I breathe too?"
"You might need guidance with that as well," Zhao Yan muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" Hua Jing asked sharply.
"Nothing of importance," he replied coolly.
Wei Ling, standing a few paces back, exchanged a glance with Xia Lin, who was trying very hard to keep her face neutral.
The maid's tense expression betrayed her inner turmoil. This was not the Hua Jing she remembered—the Hua Jing who was quiet, submissive, and always careful not to make waves. Instead, this Hua Jing was fiery, stubborn, and impossible to control.
Back at the table, Hua Jing's stomach betrayed her.
A loud, unmistakable growl echoed in the room, cutting through the tense silence like a gong. Hua Jing froze, her eyes widening in horror. She instinctively placed a hand over her stomach as if that would somehow erase the sound from existence.
Zhao Yan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.
"Not hungry, are you?" he drawled.
Hua Jing glared at him, her face flushing. Without a word, she marched to the table, pulled out the chair, and sat down.
Then, in an act of pure defiance, she grabbed a piece of bread from the platter in front of her and began eating, tearing into it with zero decorum.
The prince's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched her, but he said nothing.
Wei Ling and Xia Lin, standing off to the side, exchanged uneasy glances.
Wei Ling's expression was unreadable, but his confusion was clear in the way his lips tightened and his brows furrowed. This was not the Hua Jing he thought he knew. Even though their encounters had been few, her behavior was completely at odds with the image he had of her.
Xia Lin's face mirrored his. Her eyes held the same confusion, her shoulders tense as if bracing for the fallout from Hua Jing's lack of etiquette.
Hua Jing, however, seemed completely unbothered. She continued eating with an air of defiance, ignoring the awkward silence that filled the room.
"Eat well," Zhao Yan said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet.
Hua Jing paused, glancing up at him with her cheeks puffed full of bread. She blinked, momentarily caught off guard, and for a moment, the room seemed to freeze.
Zhao Yan's gaze lingered on her, something flashing in his eyes. Her unguarded expression, her puffed cheeks, the way her lips curved slightly as she chewed—it was so unexpected, so unlike the fiery woman who had been bickering with him moments ago.
For reasons he couldn't quite understand, the sight stirred something within him. It wasn't amusement or anger—it was something deeper, something he couldn't name.
Hua Jing swallowed, her composure returning as she gave him a pointed look. "I am eating well," she said, her tone as defiant as ever.
Zhao Yan didn't reply. He merely picked up his chopsticks and began to eat as well, his movements precise and deliberate.
Hua Jing, still irritated, turned her attention back to her plate. She tore into her food with gusto, her earlier embarrassment forgotten.
It was then that she noticed something peculiar. As Zhao Yan ate, he pushed a small pile of carrots to the side of his plate, leaving them untouched.
A slow, mischievous grin spread across Hua Jing's face. Her eyes danced with malicious glee as she leaned back in her chair, watching him with newfound interest.
"You don't like carrots?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement.
Zhao Yan's chopsticks paused mid-air, but he didn't look up.
Hua Jing let out a soft laugh, her grin widening.
Something malicious flashed in her eyes as she held her chopsticks in the air ready to attack!