Zhao Yan's jaw tightened as he watched Hua Jing's performance.
Her delicate demeanor, the fluttering eyelashes, and that sly tone in her voice—everything about it screamed calculated mischief.
The way she subtly directed the maids' gazes toward him was infuriating.
He could already see the rumors forming in their heads, spreading like wildfire through the palace.
With narrowed eyes, Zhao Yan let out a low, exasperated laugh.
This little minx!
She was crafty—far craftier than he had imagined.
How could someone so seemingly harmless manage to tarnish his reputation so effortlessly?
The Royal Physician, oblivious to Zhao Yan's inner turmoil, turned toward Hua Jing.
His expression softened instantly as he took in her worn appearance.
"Hua Jing," the physician said gently, his voice filled with warmth.
He reached into his medical pouch and pulled out a small jar of ointment.
"You'll need to apply this daily," he said, his tone almost grandfatherly.
"It will help with the… wounds," he continued, his words trailing off awkwardly.
The maids' faces flushed at the implication, but the physician maintained a kind and caring demeanor.
He handed the jar to Hua Jing, avoiding Zhao Yan's piercing glare.
"Don't let the area come into contact with water for at least a week," he advised. "You'll be fine after that."
Hua Jing nodded appreciatively, her lips curving into a sweet smile.
"Thank you, Grandpa Physician," she said softly, her tone filled with gratitude.
The term of endearment took the physician by surprise, but it also warmed his heart.
He straightened slightly, his own smile growing as he nodded at her.
"It's nothing, my dear," he said, his voice even gentler now.
Zhao Yan scowled as he watched the exchange.
The Royal Physician's kind gaze turned toward him, but instead of warmth, there was hostility.
It was the kind of glare one reserved for a beast that had trampled through an innocent garden.
If looks could kill, Zhao Yan thought dryly, he'd have been dead three times over by now.
The physician sighed heavily before gathering his tools.
With one final glance at Hua Jing, he bowed slightly and left the room, the maids trailing behind him.
The door clicked shut.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Zhao Yan turned his gaze back to Hua Jing.
"Explain," he said flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Hua Jing tilted her head, her expression one of feigned innocence.
"Explain what, Your Highness?" she asked lightly.
Zhao Yan's brow twitched.
"What you just did," he said, his voice firm.
"What did I do?" Hua Jing asked, blinking at him with wide, guileless eyes.
Zhao Yan gritted his teeth.
"Don't play dumb with me," he said sharply. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."
Hua Jing sighed dramatically, leaning back against the pillows.
"I don't see the problem," she said, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.
"Everything is self-explanatory."
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her lips twitching into a small smile.
"And besides," she added, "you joined in as well."
Zhao Yan's hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"I joined in?" he repeated, his tone incredulous.
"Yes, Your Highness," Hua Jing said smoothly. "You're the one who said, 'We are husband and wife now. What is there not to expect?'"
Zhao Yan opened his mouth to retort but stopped, his memory betraying him.
He had said that.
Hua Jing's smile widened slightly, as though she had won some unspoken battle.
Zhao Yan took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"Hua Jing," he said slowly, his voice dangerously low.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"What… was your goal in doing this?"
Hua Jing sat up a little straighter, tilting her head as she regarded him.
"I don't know what you mean," she said sweetly.
Zhao Yan glared at her, his patience thinning with each passing second.
"I saw what you were doing," he said.
"The maids, the physician—you wanted them to spread rumors, didn't you?"
Hua Jing raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise.
"Rumors?" she echoed. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Zhao Yan's eyes narrowed, but before he could press further, Hua Jing's expression turned serious.
"You know," she said, her voice dropping into a softer tone, "those rumors might actually help you."
Zhao Yan blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in her demeanor.
"Help me?" he asked, his tone laced with skepticism.
"Yes," Hua Jing said matter-of-factly.
She leaned forward slightly, meeting his gaze head-on.
"I heard you have six wives already."
Zhao Yan's eyes darkened, but Hua Jing pressed on.
"If people hear that the prince still has so much vigor left in him, they'll be happy."
"Happy?" Zhao Yan repeated, his voice rising slightly.
"Yes," Hua Jing said with a mischievous smile.
"They'll think the palace is in great hands once you become king."
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Zhao Yan gritted his teeth, his entire body radiating irritation.
"Hua Jing!" he bellowed, her name echoing through the room.
Hua Jing didn't flinch.
Instead, she leaned back with a satisfied smirk, her eyes gleaming with amusement.
She looked at Zhao Yan and said, "Why are you yelling? The rumors are quite good. Why don't you believe them?"
Zhao Yan was this close to moving over to her and strangling her, but he used all his self-restraint and left her alone.
Instead, he took some steps away from her.
It was very dramatic, and Hua Jing rolled her eyes.
Zhao Yan quickly looked at her. "Did you just roll your eyes at me?"
Hua Jing looked at him and said, "Haven't you already realized that your princely form has no effect on me? That I do not even care the littlest bit that you are the damn prince of this whole place?"
Zhao Yan's ears popped as he stared at Hua Jing. "Really?" he asked.
Hua Jing nodded, looking at him dead in the eye. "I really, truly don't give a damn. But since I am here, I think I should play my role quite well."
Zhao Yan found this strange. Hua Jing often spoke very strangely, and so he walked towards her.
Hua Jing, who was in bed, quickly backed up until her back hit the rim of the bed.
Zhao Yan was very close, and his eyes were scrutinizing her, as if trying to figure out what sort of person she was.
She flashed a smile, but Zhao Yan did not return it.
Instead, he asked out of the blue, "Who really are you?"