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

Hua Jing arched an eyebrow, her lips curving slightly. "Family?" she echoed, her tone almost playful. "How curious."

The word tasted strange on her tongue. Family. She wondered if she had ever truly belonged to one.

She tilted her head, her gaze sweeping over the gathered crowd, lingering on the nobleman who had accused her earlier. He was still kneeling, his head bowed so low that his forehead nearly touched the ground. His face was red—whether from shame or fear, Hua Jing couldn’t tell, but it amused her all the same.

Her gaze shifted back to Chen Li. "Tell me, esteemed Madam Hua," she continued, her voice dangerously soft, "when did I ever become part of this family?"

Chen Li flinched.

Hua Jing took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Was it when you locked me away in the old courtyard, stripped of everything while your daughter basked in riches?"

She took another step.

"Or was it when I was thrown into the torture chamber like a common criminal, whipped and beaten for a crime I didn’t commit?"

Gasps rippled through the crowd as Hua Jing’s words settled in the air like an inescapable fog. The noble guests exchanged wary glances, the weight of the revelation sinking in. Torture chamber? Beatings?

These weren’t the words one expected to hear at a wedding banquet, yet here they were, spilling from the lips of the seventh consort herself.

They knew Chen Li was cruel to Hua Jing for being born but they did not expect the cruelty to be this high!

It was too much, even for them!

Chen Li’s smile wavered, but she forced herself to remain composed. "Jing’er," she said, her voice still carrying that feigned motherly concern, "whatever grievances you believe you suffered, they are in the past now. Shouldn’t we—"

"In the past?" Hua Jing cut her off, a cold laugh escaping her lips. "You mean the past where you had me starved for days? Where your precious daughter stole everything meant for me, from my dresses to my books, until I had nothing left but scraps?"

The guests stirred uncomfortably. Some of them had known Hua Jing existed, but she had been nothing more than a whispered secret, a stain on the Hua family’s reputation. None of them had known the true extent of her suffering.

Hua Jing’s eyes darkened as she took another step forward. "Or perhaps you mean the time you and your darling Hua Ling made sure I had no dowry, so if I ever married, it would be as someone’s lowly concubine?"

A few people in the crowd inhaled sharply at that. A woman’s dowry dictated her worth in marriage. If what Hua Jing was saying was true, then the Hua family had never intended for her to marry well.

Chen Li opened her mouth, but Hua Jing wasn’t finished.

"Let’s not forget the grandest spectacle of them all." She turned slightly, addressing the entire room now. "When I was nothing more than a child, I was dragged into the ancestral hall and beaten until I could barely stand. All because Hua Ling tripped over her own feet and cried that I pushed her."

Gasps turned into horrified murmurs.

Hua Jing tilted her head, feigning curiosity. "How odd, don’t you think? That a noble daughter—born of the same blood—was treated worse than a servant in her own home."

The murmur grew louder. Chen Li’s face was drained of color, her hands trembling at her sides.

Hua Jing’s fingers twitched slightly, and an eerie smile curled her lips. Something inside her had snapped. It wasn’t rage—not entirely. It was something deeper, something raw. The memories—hers, and the ones she had inherited from the Hua Jing of this world—twisted and tangled together, making it impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

She hadn’t expected this. She thought she had control, thought she could keep things buried deep, but standing here, in front of the people who had wronged her, the dam broke.

Her voice was steady, but there was something haunting in it as she continued. "Do you know what it’s like?" she asked, her gaze sweeping across the hall. "To be treated like a disgrace from the moment you were born? To be reminded, every single day, that you should have never existed?"

The guests were silent, entranced, yet tense. No one dared to breathe too loudly.

Hua Jing’s chest tightened. "My existence was an inconvenience. A mistake." She let out a humorless laugh. "A stain on the perfect little family you wanted to present to the world."

Chen Li’s nails dug into her palms. "That’s enough, Hua Jing."

Hua Jing ignored her.

"I was locked in that tiny courtyard, treated worse than the maids, but none of you were satisfied with that, were you?" Her voice dipped lower, a whisper carrying venom. "It wasn’t enough to keep me hidden. You had to break me."

Zhao Yan, standing beside her, narrowed his eyes. He had known she suffered, but this... this was something else. His fingers twitched at his side, an unfamiliar fury rising within him.

The words poured out of her like floodwater. "When I was younger, I believed if I tried hard enough, if I obeyed, if I stayed quiet, you’d eventually accept me. That was foolish, wasn’t it? No matter what I did, I was never good enough."

She took a deep breath, shaking her head. "You even took away the one thing I thought was mine—Jiang Lei."

A ripple of shock went through the crowd.

Jiang Lei stiffened, glancing around as if searching for an escape.

Hua Jing turned her attention to him, a sickeningly sweet smile on her lips. "What’s wrong, Scholar Jiang? Cat got your tongue?"

Jiang Lei forced out a scoff. "Don’t twist the truth, Hua Jing."

She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Truth?" She stepped forward. "Let’s talk about the truth, then. About how I never tried to come between you and Hua Ling—because you were mine first."

The murmur in the crowd grew louder.

Jiang Lei gritted his teeth. "We were never—"