"Hua Jing! Hua Jing!"
Prince Zhao Yan's voice was frantic, his usually composed tone breaking into desperation.
He called out loudly for a long time yet nothing was happening.
Hua Jing's face was still pale, even after a long time.
Her eyes were closed and scrunched in visible discomfort.
Sweat drenched her whole body, soaking the sheets beneath her.
Her clothes clung tightly on her body making her frame look very frail..
Her lips trembled, while her breathing was shallow and irregular.
Zhao Yan knelt beside her, his sharp eyes scanning her face.
"Wake up!" he shouted once again, his voice tinged with helplessness.
She didn't stir.
Tears streaked down her cheeks, rolling silently against her pale skin.
Her face twisted with an expression of pain, as if she was trapped in a nightmare she couldn't escape.
Zhao Yan reached out and cleared a few strands of hair that had clung to her face because of the tears.
He shook her lightly by the shoulders.
"Hua Jing, wake up!"
Hua Jing did not respond.
Her body remained limp.
The sight sent a cold shiver through him, and his chest immediately tightened.
An unfamiliar ache quickly bloomed inside his heart.
Something about this, about everything that was happening right now, terrified him more than he had ever known he could be.
He didn't know what these feelings were, but ever since he saw Hua Jing in that hut after her accident, he felt as if something had changed.
Something about her had changed.
And something in him had completely changed as well.
He turned towards the door, his voice sharp and booming.
"Call the Royal Physician! Now!"
Because they were honeymooning away from the palace, the Royal Physician had been sent along with them.
His role was to take care of any accidents or emergencies that might arise.
Outside, Zhao Yan could hear rushed footsteps echoing down the corridors.
Servants were rushing to obey his order.
Zhao Yan quickly turned back to Hua Jing.
His hands trembled as he brushed damp strands of hair from her face.
"Wake up," he whispered, this time his voice cracking slightly.
"Don't do this," he said desperately.
"Don't you dare do this to me, Hua Jing!"
A few moments later, the door burst open, and the Royal Physician entered.
The physician was a tall and lean man with a red hat and a white goatee.
He was followed by several maids carrying supplies.
The physician's apprentice trailed closely behind, lugging a heavy bag.
"Take a look at her!" Zhao Yan demanded, stepping aside to let the physician take his place by the bedside.
The physician placed a hand on Hua Jing's forehead, his brow furrowing immediately.
"She's burning up," he said grimly.
He turned to the maids.
"Bring cold water! Quickly!"
One maid darted out of the room.
Another stepped forward with a basin and damp cloth.
The physician worked quickly, placing the cloth on Hua Jing's forehead.
Zhao Yan hovered beside him, his eyes never leaving Hua Jing's face.
He feared that if he left, something terrible would happen to her.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked sharply.
The Royal Physician did not answer immediately.
He reached for Hua Jing's wrist, his fingers trembling slightly as he checked her pulse.
His expression quickly darkened.
"What is it?" Zhao Yan demanded, stepping closer.
The physician hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line.
Finally, he said, "Her pulse… it's almost non-existent."
Zhao Yan's eyes widened before narrowing sharply, his jaw tightening.
"What do you mean by that?" His voice was low and angry.
The physician took a deep breath, his tone somber.
"My prince, the Seventh Consort…" He paused, gathering his words.
"It seems as if her soul has left her body."
Zhao Yan's patience snapped.
"Soul left her body?" He scoffed angrily.
"Do you think I'm writing one of those novels read at tea houses?!"
What sort of absurd reasoning was this?
The physician's face paled.
"Yes—no! No, Your Highness! That is what her pulse is indicating!"
"Then do something!" Zhao Yan bellowed.
"Do something to save her!"
"I don't care if her soul has gone or not, but if it doesn't return…" Zhao Yan's voice dropped, cold and menacing.
"I will personally ensure your soul leaves your body this instant."
The room grew cold as his words settled.
The Royal Physician, though an older man, quivered under the prince's tone.
He quickly turned to his apprentice and motioned for him to bring something.
The apprentice opened the bag he had been holding and pulled out a polished box of acupuncture needles.
"What is that for?" Zhao Yan asked sharply, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.
"Acupuncture, Your Highness," the Royal Physician explained.
"It can help stabilize her condition… and bridge the path between her body and soul."
Zhao Yan's gaze remained skeptical, but he nodded reluctantly.
The physician approached Hua Jing with the first needle in hand.
His expression was tense.
This was no ordinary treatment.
One mistake, and the Seventh Consort could die.
And looking at the prince's expression, if anything happened to her, the physician's fate was sealed as well.
He pointed the needle toward Hua Jing's wrist, his movements slow and deliberate.
Yet, just as the needle was about to touch her skin, Hua Jing's hand twitched violently.
Everyone froze.
The maids gasped audibly, their wide eyes darting toward Hua Jing's hand.
The Royal Physician's fingers stopped mid-motion.
He turned toward Zhao Yan, his face pale.
"Her hand…"
The room fell silent, save for the sound of Hua Jing's faint breathing.
Her breathing was growing threadier and faint that everyone was almost dying in fear!
If news broke out that something happened to the seventh Consort on her wedding night then everyone working in this place would definitely be held accountable!
The physician tried once more, steadying his trembling hand.
But this time, Hua Jing's hand twitched again, even more violently than before!
The Royal Physician, "..."
The servants, "..."
Zhao Yan, "..."
This...