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

Because the gala was designed to stretch deep into the night, Indigo Beauty had already arranged accommodation for all invited guests. Every celebrity present had a room reserved upstairs, eliminating the inconvenience of travel and ensuring privacy. For a brand of Indigo Beauty’s stature, this was merely standard courtesy.

The hotel itself was a five-star establishment, the kind that catered exclusively to power and wealth. Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings, carpets swallowed footsteps whole, and the air carried a faint scent of expensive perfume and polished wood. Even the silence between conversations felt curated.

The event continued smoothly.

Music drifted through the hall, soft and elegant, accompanied by restrained laughter and the clinking of glasses. Guests moved in small clusters, exchanging pleasantries, dancing lightly, or retreating to quieter corners for private conversations.

Yet Hua Jing felt none of that ease.

No matter where she stood, she could feel a gaze lingering against her back. Sticky. Calculating. Patient.

She already knew whose eyes they were.

And she also knew what those two idiots believed would happen tonight.

They thought this was a trap prepared for her.

They had no idea it was a stage she had willingly stepped onto.

A waitress soon approached, holding a silver tray lined with champagne flutes. Hua Jing’s eyes passed over the glasses calmly. Her fingers hovered for a moment before selecting one at random.

As she lifted the flute, her gaze shifted slightly.

Across the room, Hua Ling was watching her.

Their eyes met for a fraction of a second. Hua Ling’s lips curved upward, slow and satisfied, before she raised her own glass. She did not drink. She merely watched.

To Hua Ling, Hua Jing had already swallowed her fate.

Certain that everything was unfolding exactly as planned, Hua Ling turned away. As she did, she cast a discreet glance toward businessman Zhou, her expression smug and assured.

The unspoken message was clear.

It was done.

Fu Jingrong, seated beside Hua Jing, noticed everything.

He noticed the way her grip on the glass remained steady. He noticed the faint amusement flickering through her eyes. Most of all, he noticed how completely unafraid she was.

He leaned slightly closer and spoke in a low voice, telling her he was heading upstairs to rest.

The word carried a meaning far deeper than its surface.

Hua Jing smiled but did not respond.

After he left, she allowed her posture to slacken just a little. Her steps slowed, her movements growing unsteady, as if the champagne had finally begun to take effect. With the flute still in hand, she turned toward the corridor leading to the washrooms.

The hallway was quieter, lined with guest rooms and softened lighting. Her heels echoed faintly against the carpet as she walked.

At the far end stood Hua Ling.

Waiting. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Hua Jing sighed softly, her shoulders drooping as if exhausted. She took a few unsteady steps forward, timing it perfectly. Just as Hua Ling reached for a nearby champagne flute, Hua Jing stumbled.

Glasses clinked.

Hands brushed.

In that brief instant of confusion, the flutes were exchanged.

By the time Hua Ling reacted, Hua Jing had already regained her balance.

Hua Ling stepped closer, her smile sharp and malicious.

"Well, if it isn’t my dear sister," she said slowly. "I wonder how much effort you had to put in to earn an invitation to a place like this."

The word effort was heavy with implication.

Hua Jing laughed softly, her tone light. "Are you sure you’re talking about me? Or are you describing yourself?"

Hua Ling’s eyes darkened.

Lowering her voice, she leaned in. "You don’t know this yet, but the champagne you just drank had something added to it. Hua Jing, tonight you’ve finally fallen into my hands."

She paused, watching closely.

"I’d really like to see how you’ll preserve that spotless image of yours after this."

Instead of panicking, Hua Jing laughed.

Her gaze lingered calmly as Hua Ling lifted the glass and drained it in one go. Only after Hua Ling finished did Hua Jing raise her own flute.

She tilted her head slightly and drank as well, emptying the glass without hesitation.

Hua Ling froze.

A strange unease crept into her chest.

The substance she used was supposed to be potent. One sip should have been enough. Watching Hua Jing drink so calmly left her unsettled, though she could not understand why.

Before she could speak again, Hua Jing had already turned away, walking toward the washrooms without looking back.

The corridor swallowed her figure.

Everything after that began to accelerate.

Room assignments had been prepared well in advance. Hua Jing was assigned room 69. Hua Ling was assigned room 96. Hua Ling knew this clearly. She had personally confirmed it.

She had even gone so far as to bribe hotel staff to obtain a master key to room 69.

The plan was flawless.

Once Hua Jing lost consciousness, businessman Zhou would enter. Others would follow. Evidence would be captured. Everything would be broadcast live.

There would be no way for Hua Jing to recover from it.

What Hua Ling did not know was that Fu Jingrong had already dismantled the plan piece by piece.

Without drawing attention, the room plaques had been switched.

Inside the washroom, Hua Jing stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her complexion was calm. Her eyes were clear.

She adjusted her hair slowly.

Then she smiled.

Above, Hua Ling began to feel strange.

The music from downstairs faded into noise. Her body felt unbearably warm, her thoughts sluggish and scattered. Certain that Hua Jing would already be collapsing, she hurried upstairs, barely registering the corridor as she reached what she believed was her room.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Meanwhile, businessman Zhou had lost his patience.

With both women absent from the hall, he decided it was time to act. He strode down the hallway, stopping in front of room 69. Without hesitation, he unlocked the door and entered.

The room was dim.

Soft red lighting blurred details and cast shadows across the walls. He could make out the vague outline of a woman on the bed, her breathing uneven.

His judgment dulled by alcohol and desire, he failed to notice anything amiss.

The door closed behind him.

Down the hallway, behind another door, the night unfolded exactly opposite of what Hua Ling and businessman Zhou had imagined.

The trap they had so carefully prepared was finally tightening.

Not around Hua Jing—

—but around themselves.