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

Tears streamed across the stadium. Smiles broke through the sobs. Hearts that had been crushed a year ago now burned alive with hope.

That time had been a very sad one for Hua Jing’s fans who were still in disbelief that something could happen to her.

Many had hoped that the news was false and a big joke was being played on them.

Looking at Hua Jing now, the accident must have been real because she looked thinner and paler.

Even though she was standing right in front of them, they were still afraid she would suddenly disappear!

But...

And through it all, Hua Jing stood under the lights in red, her smile soft, radiant, untouchable.

She leaned slightly toward the microphone.

Her voice, gentle but clear, cut through the roar of the crowd.

"Long time no see."

As soon as Hua Jing’s voice fell, the stadium shook again.

Fans shot to their feet, waving their arms wildly. Phones rose into the air, flashlights switching on one after another until the arena was a sea of stars. They swayed, flickering like constellations, as though the crowd was afraid that if they stopped shining, Hua Jing might vanish before their eyes.

The chant of her name grew louder and louder.

"Hua Jing! Hua Jing! Hua Jing!"

It rolled like thunder, shaking the foundation of the venue. People screamed until their throats turned raw, yet they didn’t stop. They blinked less, desperate not to miss even a second, as if a single blink might erase the vision of her standing there in red.

Not everyone’s expression was joyful.

In the VIP seats, the higher-ups of Blue Entertainment looked sick. Their president, Mao Li, felt his stomach twist with every roar of Hua Jing’s name. His face, powdered with light makeup for the cameras, turned visibly pale under the lights.

He had not expected this.

Not this woman. Not this night.

Once upon a time, he had betrayed Hua Jing, cutting ties with her without hesitation when she was at her weakest. He had thought her career buried, her star extinguished. Yet now, here she stood—glorious, flawless, a queen reborn.

And the sight cracked something inside him.

What made it worse—the live voting counter on the big screen. Hua Jing’s name, which had appeared only moments ago, was now surging with terrifying speed. In less than ten minutes, she had surpassed Hua Ling and was now closing the gap with Fu Jingrong himself.

Mao Li’s hands clenched.

This was not supposed to happen.

Down below, Hua Ling’s expression was twisted into one she could barely control. Her carefully painted smile had vanished, leaving only a rigid mask. The camera crews ignored her completely, their lenses fixed only on Hua Jing.

Earlier, Hua Ling had dreamed of tonight being her coronation.

Now, it had become her humiliation.

She could feel the bile rising in her throat. If she had known this would happen, she would have acted sooner—ensuring Hua Jing stayed in her coma forever. The thought burned in her chest, a poisonous wish she could not voice.

After all, she had stolen Hua Jing from the hospital before. If not for Fu Jingrong’s interference, Hua Jing would still be in darkness, unable to ruin her night. Hatred boiled inside Hua Ling’s eyes, hidden only by the chaos around her.

The fans didn’t notice her.

The reporters didn’t notice her.

Everyone was rushing forward, breaking the barriers, pushing to get closer to the red figure on stage. Long lenses were no longer enough. They wanted every detail of Hua Jing’s face, every movement, every flicker of her smile.

Online, the world was no calmer.

[She’s really back! I can’t breathe—this feels like a dream!]

[The Queen of Blue Awards is HERE.]

[She disappeared for a year, and now she’s singing The Frost We Met with Fu Jingrong? What kind of blessing is this?!]

[I’ll never forgive Mao Li for betraying her. NEVER.]

[Blue Entertainment is shaking right now. Look at Mao Li’s face, he looks like he’s about to faint!]

It was madness. Pure madness.

And then Hua Jing raised the microphone again.

Her smile softened, her voice gentle, filled with warmth that reached even the very top of the stands.

"I missed you so much."

The stadium detonated.

Fans clutched their hearts, tears streaming, as the words pierced them. Cries of "We missed you too!" echoed like waves. The chant of her name rose again, louder than before, like the roar of the ocean crashing against the cliffs.

Before the frenzy could settle, Hua Jing tilted her head slightly, mischief flashing across her eyes.

"I have two more special performances for you tonight."

The crowd lost control. Some fell to their knees, screaming, others hugged strangers, crying as though they had just been reunited with family.

And then, Hua Jing turned.

Her gaze fell on Fu Jingrong.

No words were spoken. She only motioned with her chin.

Fu Jingrong’s lips curved faintly, as though he had expected this. His long fingers fell onto the piano keys.

The moment he pressed down, a new melody burst into life.

It was bright, catchy, almost playful—the complete opposite of the frostbitten sorrow from before. The contrast electrified the audience.

The next storm had already begun.

Below the stage, at the long white table near the front, Lin Qian sat frozen.

Her fingers twisted together under the table, trembling slightly, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

She had never been close to Hua Jing. Their personalities had clashed more often than not, and they had shared more disagreements than laughs.

But Lin Qian had always respected her.

Hua Jing was direct, sharp, and fearless. She cut through pretenses with the kind of honesty that few in this industry could bear. Seeing her here now—alive, radiant, draped in fire-red, singing with Fu Jingrong as though the heavens themselves had descended—it shook Lin Qian to the core.

Her lips quivered into a small smile.

Yet what made the smile widen wasn’t only Hua Jing.

It was Hua Ling.

Across the table, Hua Ling’s mask of composure was splintering. Her fingers dug crescent-shaped marks into her palms, her lips pressed tightly together to keep from trembling.

Lin Qian tilted her head upward, locking eyes with her.

For the first time, she did not flinch.

Her gaze was steady, her lips curving into a mocking smirk.

A tiny laugh slipped out, soft yet sharp enough to slash Hua Ling’s pride.

Hua Ling’s face stiffened. Her knuckles whitened under the table as she struggled not to explode in front of cameras.

But before the battle of stares could continue, a figure leaned toward Lin Qian.

One of the stage crew, headset still crackling with static. He held out a microphone.

"It’s your turn," he whispered urgently.

Lin Qian blinked, stunned.

"What?" she breathed.

But before she could process, Hua Jing’s voice rang from the stage, strong and magnetic.

"And now... to welcome a very special guest performance—"

The crowd held its breath.

"—everybody, give it up for Lin Qian!"

The arena erupted into thunder.

Lin Qian’s heart skipped a beat. Her fans screamed her name, their cheers deafening.

Confusion flickered in her chest. She hadn’t been on the lineup. Hua Ling had made sure of that, erasing her slot with a single order.

But Hua Jing—Hua Jing had just rewritten the script.

Onstage, the melody shifted seamlessly into one of Lin Qian’s own songs, her signature hit, the performance she had been preparing for weeks but thought she would never be allowed to give.

The notes wrapped around her like fate.

Her fans, catching on instantly, exploded with cheers. "Lin Qian! Lin Qian! Lin Qian!"

And Hua Ling...

Hua Ling’s face went pale.

Pale with the realization that everything she had built tonight was about to crumble.

Lin Qian accepted the microphone, her hands still trembling. But when she looked up, Hua Jing’s gaze was waiting for her.

From the stage above, Hua Jing’s eyes held hers, steady and encouraging. A single nod.

As though she were beckoning her forward, telling her to take what was hers.

Lin Qian drew in a breath.

Her uncertainty melted away.

And sitting close to the fans, with their voices roaring behind her, she lifted the microphone.

And she began to sing.

The melody shifted, light and playful, the complete opposite of the haunting song that had just ended.

Lin Qian froze for a second when she recognized it.

Her song.

The one the whole internet had turned into a viral challenge. The one with the silly, repetitive lyrics and ridiculous dance moves.

This was one of the songs that she had put out recently that was doing very very well and the fans had made it into a sensation and even overseas everyone was doing the dance challenges online!

She had prepared to perform it as her encore but her name had been ultimately taken down from the performances list so there was no way she could bring this to life at this very stage.

Yet... Who knew that...

The one no one could get out of their heads.

As the bouncy rhythm played, the crowd instantly erupted.

"Hop, hop, candy drop! Hop, hop, lollipop!"

The childish chant spread like wildfire, thousands of voices rising in unison.

"Spin around, don’t you stop! Spin around, don’t you stop!"

Lin Qian’s lips parted in disbelief. She hadn’t even started, but the stadium was already singing it louder than she could.

She clutched the microphone tighter and stepped forward.

"Hop, hop, candy drop—!"