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

When Ling Mu’s body had been found all those years ago, it had been stripped bare. He had told himself she had been attacked by bandits, assaulted, robbed—anything but this. Anything but betrayal from the woman who shared his bed. His hands trembled as he slowly turned toward Chen Li, disbelief and horror etched into his features.

"You..." His voice cracked. "You did this? You really did this?"

Chen Li could no longer speak. Her eyes were wide, unfocused, her entire body shaking as if the weight of her sins had finally crushed her.

Hua Jing did not stay to watch.

She turned away the moment the truth was laid bare, as if even the sight of Chen Li now was too much to endure. Fu Jingrong was already beside her, his hand finding hers instinctively, steady and warm. Without a word, he guided her toward the exit.

They walked out together, past the stunned faces, past the chaos left behind, and into the waiting car.

Everything was finally coming to an end.

The moment the car doors closed, it felt as though the world outside had been completely cut off. Fu Jingrong’s assistant raised the partition without a word, sealing them into a quiet, private space. The silence was thick, almost heavy, and the moment Hua Jing realized there was no longer anything she needed to hold up, her strength gave way all at once.

She collapsed into Fu Jingrong’s arms.

He pulled her onto his lap effortlessly, wrapping her tightly against his chest, cradling her the way one would protect something fragile and precious. Hua Jing didn’t cry. Not a single tear fell. Instead, her breathing came out uneven and broken, sharp gasps that betrayed how hard she was fighting to stay upright. Her body trembled uncontrollably, releasing years of rage, fear, grief, and exhaustion that had been buried too deep for too long.

Fu Jingrong said nothing.

He simply held her, one hand steady at her back, the other resting over her shoulder, grounding her. He waited patiently, allowing her to fall apart at her own pace. Time slipped by unnoticed as the car moved forward, the two of them locked in that silent embrace, as though the rest of the world no longer existed.

Eventually, the trembling eased.

Hua Jing slowly lifted her head. Her face was pale, drained of color, but there was a faint smile at the corner of her lips—soft, sincere, and fragile. She looked at Fu Jingrong as if she were seeing him for the first time all over again.

"I’m truly glad I met you," she said quietly. "I’m glad our stars were aligned... in every universe."

If it hadn’t been for him, she knew, the truth might have remained buried forever. She had witnessed her mother’s death with her own eyes as a child, yet the trauma had been so unbearable that her mind had sealed it away completely. It was only after waking from the coma, only after reconnecting with Fu Jingrong and reliving their shared past, that the missing pieces had returned.

That night—so many years ago—Chen Li’s men had searched everywhere for her. There could have been two deaths instead of one. But Fu Jingrong, still young himself, had dragged her out of the darkness, pulling her from the jaws of death when no one else even knew she was there.

She had forgotten him once.

But fate had never forgotten them.

Hua Jing hugged him tightly again, burying her face against his neck. Her voice dropped to a whisper, soft but unwavering. "Fu Jingrong... I love you. So much."

His body stiffened for a brief second, as if the words had struck him deeper than anything else that day. Then his arms tightened around her, holding her as though he would never let go.

A few days later, Chen Li was brought to court.

The evidence against her was overwhelming—too complete, too solid to dismantle. Even with Hua Mingrong hiring the best lawyers money could buy, there was no way out. Every attempt at defense crumbled under the weight of forensic proof, witness statements, and the chain of evidence Hua Jing and Fu Jingrong had laid out with ruthless precision.

The case drew massive attention.

On the day of the trial, the area outside the courthouse was packed. Hua Jing’s fans flooded the streets, their emotions running high, while reporters crowded every available space, cameras flashing nonstop. The air buzzed with anticipation and fury, everyone desperate to witness the downfall of the woman who had hidden her crimes behind elegance for so many years.

When the prison vehicle arrived, a wave of stunned silence swept through the crowd.

Chen Li stepped out, escorted by officers, and for a split second, no one recognized her. She looked nothing like the polished, proud socialite people remembered. Her hair was dull, her face sunken, deep lines carved into her once-youthful features. In just a few days, she had aged years, reduced to a hollow shadow of herself.

Then the silence shattered.

Cameras clicked wildly as voices erupted all at once.

"You murderer!" "You killed Hua Jing’s mother!" "You deserve the maximum sentence!" "Rot in prison!"

The shouts echoed endlessly, fueled by rage and justice long overdue. Reporters surged forward, microphones extended, until the police formed a tight barrier around Chen Li and hurried her into the courthouse.

The fans even tried to infiltrate and threw so many rotten eggs towards Chen Li. The police had to bring some reinforcement before they were successful in escorting her inside.

Inside, Hua Jing avoided the chaos entirely.

She and Fu Jingrong entered through a side passage, shielded from the noise and flashing lights. His hand stayed firmly wrapped around hers as he led her down the corridor toward the courtroom. The closer they got, the heavier her steps felt.

Hua Jing paused.

She took a shaky breath, steadying herself, then looked up at him. Her eyes were clear, resolute, and unafraid.

"Let’s go," she said.

Fu Jingrong nodded without hesitation, his grip tightening reassuringly.

"Yes," he replied softly. "Let’s go."