CHAPTER 33: YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED WHERE I LEFT YOU

Zhao Yan froze at the sound of the voice, his hands still gripping the burning wood.

Slowly, almost as if afraid to look, he turned his head.

His eyes widened in disbelief.

Standing a few meters away, Hua Jing was there—alive, disheveled, but very much alive.

In her arms was another maid, unconscious and pale, her body slumped as if she’d succumbed to the smoke.

Zhao Yan’s heart clenched. Relief surged through him, but the weight of his earlier fear crushed him all at once.

His grip on the smoldering wood slackened, and it fell from his hands with a dull thud.

His knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground.

He didn’t even notice the sting of his burned palms.

All he could do was breathe.

She was alive.

Hua Jing’s brows furrowed as she took in the sight before her.

She gently laid the maid down onto the snowy ground and rushed toward Zhao Yan.

"What’s wrong?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion and concern.

She knelt in front of him, her eyes darting from his trembling hands to the ashen look on his face.

"Zhao Yan," she whispered, leaning closer.

"What is it? What’s wrong?"

His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breath uneven.

Her gaze followed his, and her eyes landed on the collapsed shed he had been trying to lift just moments ago.

Understanding dawned on her.

She realized that she had been standing under that very shed before it fell.

Her lips parted as the pieces clicked into place.

"I escaped," she said softly, almost as if reassuring herself.

"There was a maid crying for help from the other side, so I went to help her. That’s why I wasn’t there."

Zhao Yan didn’t respond. His shoulders were slumped, and his usually sharp eyes were clouded with emotions she couldn’t decipher.

Hua Jing hesitated for a moment before reaching out and cupping his face with her hands.

His skin was clammy, and she could feel the tension in his jaw.

"Hey," she said gently, her thumbs brushing against his cheeks.

"I’m safe."

She leaned closer, forcing him to meet her gaze.

"Hey, hey. Look at me. I’m here. I’m safe."

His eyes flickered, the storm in them slowly subsiding.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The world around them was chaos—the crackling flames, the cries of servants—but in that small bubble, there was only the two of them.

From the side, Xia Lin’s muffled sobs broke the moment.

"My lady," she wailed, tears streaming down her soot-streaked face.

"We thought you were... We thought you were gone!"

Her voice cracked, and she buried her face in her hands, her whole body trembling.

"The prince thought you were—" Xia Lin choked on her words, unable to finish her sentence.

Hua Jing turned her head toward Xia Lin, her expression softening.

She let out a shaky breath, her voice calm as she said, "I’m here, Xia Lin. I’m not going anywhere."

She glanced back at Zhao Yan, whose breathing had steadied but whose face still bore the remnants of fear.

They thought she was dead.

For the first time, it truly hit her.

The weight of what could have been, the panic they must have felt—it was overwhelming.

She bit her lip, a pang of guilt settling in her chest.

"I’m sorry," she said quietly, her hands still cradling Zhao Yan’s face.

"I didn’t mean to worry you."

Zhao Yan finally found his voice, though it was hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"You... You should have stayed where I left you."His tone was weak, but the frustration, anger, and something else—something raw and unspoken—were impossible to miss.

Hua Jing stared at him, guilt flickering across her face.

Before she could say anything, he spoke again.

"You could have died."

His voice cracked slightly, and Hua Jing’s breath caught in her throat.

Zhao Yan’s jaw clenched, his gaze dropping momentarily.

"What could I have done if..."

He stopped himself abruptly, shaking his head as if trying to dispel the thought.

Hua Jing leaned closer, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"If what?" she pressed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Zhao Yan looked at her, his eyes clouded with emotion.

"Nothing," he said after a moment, his tone clipped.

"The place is still burning. We should all head out now."

Hua Jing bit her lip, sensing that there was more he wanted to say, but the urgency of their situation left no room for further discussion.

"Alright," she said quietly.

Zhao Yan pushed himself up, wincing slightly as the burns on his hands stung with renewed vigor.

He turned to Xia Lin, who was still sitting on the snowy ground, her face pale but alert.

"Can you stand?" he asked.

Xia Lin nodded, though her movements were sluggish.

"I think so, Your Highness."

Zhao Yan extended a hand, helping her up carefully.

Hua Jing watched the exchange for a moment before remembering the other maid she had saved.

Her gaze darted to the unconscious woman lying a few feet away.

"We can’t leave her here," Hua Jing said firmly.

Without waiting for a response, she moved over and crouched beside the maid.

With a grunt of effort, she lifted the woman onto her back.

Zhao Yan turned to her, his brows furrowing in disapproval.

"You’re injured," he said sharply.

"You shouldn’t—"

"I’m fine," Hua Jing interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"She’s lighter than she looks. Let’s just go."

Zhao Yan exhaled sharply but didn’t press the issue.

"Stay close," he ordered, his tone brooking no disobedience.

Together, the three of them made their way toward the gate, the heat of the fire still licking at their backs.

The courtyard was a mess of charred wood and ashes, but the snow that had continued to fall had dampened some of the flames, creating small pockets of safe passage.

They staggered forward, the smoke still thick in the air.

When they finally reached the gate, Hua Jing felt a wave of relief wash over her.

But it was short-lived.

The distant sound of hooves pounding against the snow-covered ground sent a chill down her spine.

Zhao Yan froze, his body going rigid.

"Stay behind me!"