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

The preparations for the Blue Awards were in full swing, the venue buzzing with staff, crew, and artists moving about in a coordinated chaos.

On the main stage, Hua Ling was mid-rehearsal for the live show. She stood in the spotlight, surrounded by a small army of backup dancers, her sequined outfit catching the light with every movement. The music boomed through the speakers, her voice layered over a heavily polished backing track.

Her lips moved perfectly in sync with the recording, but anyone paying attention could tell the truth — most of the "vocals" were coming from the pre-recorded track, not her own breathless live singing. Still, the choreography was flawless, the transitions seamless, and when the final beat dropped, she struck her ending pose like a seasoned star.

The applause came instantly.

"You were amazing!"

"Flawless, Hua Ling!"

"That’s why you’re the top of the game right now!"

Compliments rained down from crew and staff, their smiles full of admiration.

But at the far edge of the stage, Zhang Ruo stood unmoving. The publicist’s arms were crossed, her face void of even a polite smile. She had worked in this industry long enough to know the difference between talent and polish — and this was polish, nothing more. Her eyes narrowed slightly. How could they all cheer for something so hollow?

Zhang Ruo had known Hua Ling for years, long before this meteoric rise, back when she was still clawing for a chance in the industry. And she knew all too well what — and who — had been sacrificed to put Hua Ling here.

Hua Ling, stepping down from the stage, caught Zhang Ruo’s expression immediately. A small, amused curl formed on her lips. She walked over slowly, wiping imaginary sweat from her brow, her tone dripping with mock sweetness.

"You should really wipe that frown off your face, Zhang Ruo," she said with a light snicker. "We’ve been working together for a year now — you should be used to greatness by now."

The words were soft, but the intent was sharp. A jab, meant to provoke.

Zhang Ruo’s gaze didn’t waver as Hua Ling approached, her arms still crossed. When Hua Ling finished her little victory speech, Zhang Ruo tilted her head slightly, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

"Greatness, you say?" she murmured, her tone light — almost too light.

She didn’t elaborate, but the weight behind the words was unmistakable. Hua Ling caught it instantly. The jab landed squarely, and the sharp spark of irritation flared in her eyes.

Her smile dropped.

"Do you even know why I let you work with me," Hua Ling snapped, "even though I fired everyone who used to work with Hua Jing?"

Zhang Ruo’s brow arched slightly, as if she were mildly curious but not impressed. Hua Ling stepped closer, lowering her voice until only the two of them could hear.

"It’s because you were the one who worked with Hua Jing from the very start. I wanted you here, close enough to watch, as I take everything that belonged to her. Every award. Every endorsement. Every ounce of attention. I want you to see it all happen right in front of your eyes. And I’m not done yet, Zhang Ruo. So stay close — because I will take everything from her right under your watch."

The smug glint in Hua Ling’s eyes was almost feral.

Zhang Ruo stared at her for a long moment. Inside, a cold anger churned, but she swallowed it down. She knew Hua Ling’s kind of madness — reckless, destructive, and dangerous to anyone who stood in its path. Saying the wrong thing now could ignite something she couldn’t put out.

She simply clicked her tongue in disdain and turned away, walking off without another word.

Hua Ling stood there, seething at the lack of reaction. Her manager hurried over, sensing the tension.

"Don’t mind her," the manager said quickly, offering a reassuring smile. "She’s still clinging to the fantasy that Hua Jing might come back and reclaim her spot. But right now, you’re the one sitting on the throne. How could a country bumpkin like her possibly overpower you? That’s just not going to happen."

Hua Ling’s grip on her irritation loosened after her manager’s words, but a faint click of her tongue showed she wasn’t completely soothed. She turned to leave, only to stop short.

From the entrance, a group of people stepped in, the frontmost man carrying a lavish bouquet of crimson roses. More followed behind him, each holding their own armful, until the rehearsal space seemed almost flooded with red. The deep, velvety petals caught the overhead light, gleaming like drops of wine.

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Xu Ming?" she breathed.

There he was, walking toward her in a perfectly tailored suit. He looked sharp and commanding, though there were faint shadows under his eyes — signs of exhaustion that didn’t dull the warmth in his gaze. And that warmth was entirely for her.

Hua Ling’s heart gave a delighted skip. Without thinking, she broke into a run.

"Brother Ming! What are you doing here?"

He opened his arms and caught her in a tight embrace. "Rehearsals must’ve been tiring for you," he said in a low, fond tone. "I came to bring you some energy."

Hua Ling wriggled slightly, aware of the growing crowd of onlookers. "There are... a lot of people here," she whispered, half embarrassed.

Xu Ming glanced over her shoulder — the media personnel were already lifting their cameras, shutters clicking in rapid bursts. Then he looked back at her, unfazed.

"You’re my woman," he said firmly. "Why should I hide that? Don’t you think it’s time we told the world we’re together?"

Her pulse quickened. She had dreamed of this exact moment — showing everyone that Xu Ming belonged to her, and she to him. Her lips curved into a shy smile, and she nodded.

She took his hand and leaned in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. But Xu Ming was quicker; he turned his head just enough for her lips to brush against his instead.

Hua Ling froze for half a second, then let out a tiny gasp, heat rising in her cheeks. She pressed her hands to her face, trying to hide the flush.

The reporters, already in a frenzy, surged forward. Microphones and phones were thrust toward them, questions flying like arrows: 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

"Is this your official announcement?"

"How long have you been together?"

"Was this relationship happening during Hua Ling’s debut?"

"Are wedding bells next?"