MY PRINCE HUSBAND HAS SEVEN WIVES AND I AM HIS FAVOURITE!

The wind picked up, carrying the scent of blood and sweat away from the alley.

In the shifting shadows, a lone figure stood—silent, unmoving. His robes billowed gently with the wind, the fabric whispering against the night.

Hua Jing squinted.

That figure... it was familiar.

Something about the way he stood, his posture, the effortless authority in his stance—she had seen it before.

But with the shadows concealing him, she couldn’t make out his features.

She barely had time to dwell on it before the remaining bandits, seeing their fallen comrade and the sword lodged into the wall, scrambled to their feet.

"P-please, spare us!" one of them stammered, tripping over his own feet in his hurry to escape.

Another grabbed his unconscious comrade and hoisted him onto his back. "L-let’s get out of here!"

Without hesitation, the group turned to flee, their confidence shattered beyond repair.

But before they could disappear, Hua Jing’s hand shot out.

Her fingers clamped onto the collar of one of the men, jerking him back with an effortless tug.

The man let out a strangled yelp as he stumbled backward into her grasp.

Hua Jing leaned in, her face inches from his as she lowered her voice to a dangerous whisper.

"If I ever catch you harassing this woman again," she murmured, her tone sweet but laced with venom, "that will be the last time you take a breath."

Her grip tightened.

"Do you understand?"

The bandit’s face drained of color.

Whether it was from pure terror or something else, he nodded frantically, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard.

"Y-yes! I swear!" he gasped.

Satisfied, Hua Jing released him with a sharp shove.

The man nearly collapsed onto his knees before he scrambled up and bolted, not even daring to look back.

Now that the filth had scurried away, the alley fell silent.

The only sounds were the rustling of robes... and the quiet footsteps of the stranger.

Hua Jing’s eyes snapped toward him.

He was moving.

Stepping slowly out of the shadows, the man made his way toward her—each step deliberate, measured.

Even though he had just saved her, Hua Jing remained on high alert.

Her body was tense, her stance ready.

Whoever this man was, he wasn’t ordinary.

His presence alone was suffocating.

The way he walked, how effortlessly he carried himself, and most of all—the accuracy of his throw.

Hua Jing’s eyes flickered toward the sword still lodged deep in the wall.

It had been a perfect shot.

Precision. Control. Power.

He had aimed it so precisely that it had only grazed the bandit, stopping him before he could land his attack—without even a single unnecessary movement.

Hua Jing’s mind raced.

A skilled warrior. A dangerous man.

And now he was walking straight toward her.

Her fingers itched to reach for a weapon.

Even though she wore a disguise, she had no idea what this man had seen—or if he had already figured her out.

As he neared, the moonlight finally revealed his features.

Hua Jing’s breath hitched.

He was... beautiful.

Half of his face was hidden beneath a white cloth.

It covered his lower jaw, his nose, leaving only his piercing eyes visible.

But that was enough.

His eyes—**deep, dark, like ink swirling in moonlight—**were focused entirely on her.

A sharp contrast against the pale glow of his skin.

They were cold. Calculating.

And yet...

Those eyes.

Hua Jing felt a strange pull toward them, an unsettling mix of familiarity and mystery.

She tried to rack her brain for where she had seen such a gaze before, but nothing concrete surfaced. And yet...

The way he looked at her—sharp, focused, unwavering—it was as if she were the only thing in the world.

She knew only one person who had ever looked at her like that.

Prince Zhao Yan.

The realization sent a shiver down her spine.

Could it be?

Ever since she arrived in this world, she had only ever seen Zhao Yan’s lower face. The mask he always wore had kept his upper features hidden.

She had never seen his eyes before.

But if this man was him... then why was he here? Why now?

She swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the strange tension between them. Her instincts pushed her forward—a quiet, inexplicable urge to close the distance between them.

What was this?

Why did she suddenly feel the need to step closer?

His expression remained cold, his anger barely restrained.

Something flickered behind his eyes—rage, frustration, or something else entirely?

Hua Jing wasn’t sure.

But whatever it was, it was strong enough to hold him back from doing something reckless.

The tension was thick.

Too thick.

So she did the only thing she could to break it.

She cleared her throat and turned away.

"If you’re fine, you should head home," she said to the woman, keeping her voice light. "Those men won’t be bothering you again."

The woman looked up at her, her face still flushed, her eyes filled with something dangerously close to admiration.

She took a shaky step forward and bowed deeply.

"I thank you very much for saving me, young master," she said softly, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.

"If you ever come to Chang’an, please look for me. I will do anything to repay your kindness."

Her eyes sparkled as she spoke.

Hua Jing felt a sudden discomfort as she realized the woman wasn’t looking at her as a savior—she was looking at her like a lover.

From the way her gaze lingered, from the soft curve of her lips as she spoke, it was clear that she had fallen.

Oh no.

Hua Jing wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

She was dressed as a man, had only met this woman minutes ago, and yet— just like that, she had captured another heart?

She forced a grin, rubbing the back of her neck. "There’s really no need for that," she said, waving a hand.

But the woman only blushed deeper.

Behind her, the man shifted uncomfortably.

A slow, almost imperceptible movement.

But Hua Jing felt it.

Jealousy.

The realization sent a spark of amusement through her.

Was he jealous?

She resisted the urge to smirk.

The woman kept sneaking glances at her, as if reluctant to leave. Even as she turned to walk away, she kept looking back, her gaze lingering like that of a love-struck maiden.

Finally, before disappearing into the night, she gave one last wave.

Hua Jing sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. This disguise is too good.

But before she could turn around—

A hand gripped her waist.

A firm, unchallengeable hold.

Hua Jing stiffened instantly.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, whipping around.

The man said nothing.

Not a single word.

His silence was more suffocating than any response could have been.

His grip tightened, steady, unmoving.

Hua Jing tried to pull away, but it was useless—he was stronger.

And then—

Slowly, deliberately, he reached up.

Fingers brushing against the cloth that concealed the lower half of his face.

And with one swift motion—

He pulled it down.

The world stopped.

Hua Jing’s breath hitched.

Her mind went blank.

Because the face before her was one she had never seen before.

But...she had also seen it before just,

Not here!

She had seen it in a different world, her original world.

Her hands shook as she pointed them towards that face, "You...why do you have that face?"