Chapter 87: That is, if he ever wakes up!
The damp air clung to Hua Jing’s skin, chilling her to the bone. The chamber she had been thrown into was suffocating—cold, dark, and uncomfortably silent except for the occasional distant echo of footsteps from the guards outside.
Her chest rose and fell heavily as she pressed herself against the rusted iron bars of the cell, her fingers curling around them tightly.
"Let me out!" she yelled, her voice sharp with frustration and indignation. "I did nothing! You have no right to imprison me like this!"
The guards remained impassive, their expressions unreadable as they stood their ground. Not a single one of them even spared her a glance.
Hua Jing clenched her jaw, her head throbbing from the lack of air in the cramped, suffocating space. The darkness weighed on her, but she refused to let fear take over.
Then, the sound of approaching footsteps reached her ears.
Click. Click. Click.
A deliberate, measured pace.
A slow smirk formed on her lips as she turned her gaze toward the entrance, already knowing who it was.
And sure enough, the First Consort appeared, standing just beyond the bars with an air of superiority.
Dressed in the same exquisite robes from the banquet, she looked regal, untouched by the chaos that had unfolded earlier. But her eyes—those sharp, calculating eyes—glowed with barely concealed glee.