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

Fu Jing Rong said quietly.

He did not raise his voice, but the tone alone carried enough steel to silence those closest to him.

The security team cleared a path swiftly. Cameras continued flashing, capturing every second—the dirt on his clothes, the way he refused to let anyone else carry her, the oxygen mask still resting lightly against her face.

One particularly bold reporter shouted, "Mr. Fu, can you confirm whether this was attempted murder?"

Fu Jing Rong paused for half a heartbeat.

His gaze shifted toward the source of the question, sharp and unyielding. The chaos around him seemed to dim under the weight of that single look.

"If you value your careers," he said evenly, "you will step aside."

The threat was not loud. It did not need to be.

A ripple of unease moved through the crowd.

No one doubted he had the influence to make good on it.

Inside the hospital entrance, medical staff rushed forward with a gurney, but once again he hesitated before relinquishing her. His fingers lingered at her waist, reluctant.

Hua Jing opened her eyes slightly and looked up at him, exhaustion heavy but awareness clear.

"I’m okay," she whispered faintly, though her voice trembled. "You can let them help."

Only then did he carefully lower her onto the gurney. Even as they wheeled her toward the emergency unit, he walked beside her, his hand never leaving hers.

Behind them, the media frenzy only intensified.

Speculation spread like wildfire. Social media platforms flooded with grainy footage of the helicopter landing. Headlines began forming in real time:

Heiress Kidnapped. Buried Alive in Silian Forest. Fu Corporation Involved in Violent Feud?

Inside the sterile brightness of the hospital corridor, however, none of that mattered.

The doors to the emergency room swung shut, cutting off the flashing lights and shouted questions. Silence settled heavily in their absence.

Fu Jing Rong stood outside those doors, hands still streaked with dirt, knuckles scraped raw from digging through earth. His reflection in the polished floor looked almost unrecognizable—disheveled, exhausted, but burning with something far more dangerous than panic.

In the days that followed Hua Jing’s rescue, the entire city seemed to fall into a storm of speculation.

Every television channel, every news outlet, every social media platform was saturated with the same story. At first it had been nothing more than scattered rumors—an unidentified helicopter landing in the middle of the night, a powerful businessman carrying an unconscious woman through a hospital entrance, whispers of Silian Forest and an unmarked grave. But rumors, when attached to powerful names, had a way of growing rapidly.

Within forty-eight hours, the story had erupted into a full media frenzy.

Yet beneath the chaos of speculation, there was also something else moving quietly behind the scenes—an unmistakable force guiding the narrative with careful precision.

That force was Fu Jing Rong.

He did not give interviews. He did not stand before cameras or issue dramatic statements to the press. Instead, he did something far more effective.

He released evidence.

Not all at once.

But in fragments.

The first piece appeared two days after Hua Jing regained consciousness.

A short, heavily edited clip surfaced online showing blurred footage of a wooded area, the outlines of men digging frantically into the ground. The clip ended abruptly just before the coffin was revealed, but the implication was obvious enough to ignite public outrage.

The caption that accompanied it was simple:

Evidence related to the kidnapping of Miss Hua Jing.

The internet exploded.

Commentators speculated wildly. Analysts debated the implications on live broadcasts. Influencers reposted the footage with dramatic captions, fueling the outrage further.

Then came the second release.

Photos.

Grainy but unmistakable images of Hua Ling and Mao Li being detained by Team One earlier that week circulated online. Their expressions were tense, their appearances already disheveled compared to the polished public figures people were used to seeing.

Still, Fu Jing Rong did not say anything publicly.

He simply allowed the information to spread.

And then, just when the public’s curiosity had reached its peak, the third piece dropped.

This one was devastating.

A CCTV recording from one year earlier.

The footage showed the underground parking garage of a luxury hotel, its camera angle slightly tilted but clear enough to capture every crucial moment. The timestamp in the corner marked the exact date—one year ago, the evening Hua Jing had been scheduled to attend the Blue Entertainment Gala.

The night she was supposed to receive her Lifetime Achievement Award.

In the footage, Hua Jing could be seen walking toward her car with her assistant at the time, Luo Bing. She looked composed, elegant, dressed for the prestigious event awaiting her.

A few minutes later, she drove out of the garage.

The footage cut there.

But the implication had already begun to form in the viewers’ minds.

Because the next clip showed the aftermath.

Emergency lights.

A mangled vehicle.

News archives confirmed what everyone had once believed to be a tragic accident—Hua Jing’s car had crashed after her brakes malfunctioned. The accident had been severe enough to leave her in a coma for more than a year.

At the time, it had been ruled mechanical failure.

Now, the narrative shifted.

Because alongside the footage came something far darker.

An audio recording.

The audio quality was not perfect, but the voices were unmistakable.

Hua Ling’s voice came first, calm and calculating.

"She’s becoming too powerful. If we let her continue, she’ll destroy everything we’ve built."

Then Mao Li’s voice followed, quieter but equally cold.

"So what’s your plan?"

Then Hua Ling again, her tone almost casual.

"The accident today is the perfect opportunity. Once she’s gone, no one will question it. Everything will fall into place."

The recording ended there.

But the damage had already been done.

When the clip reached the public, outrage erupted on a scale even the media had not anticipated.

Headlines appeared within minutes:

"SHOCKING AUDIO LEAK: HUA LING AND MAO LI LINKED TO HUA JING’S ACCIDENT."

"DID THEY ATTEMPT MURDER A YEAR AGO?"

"ENTERTAINMENT INDUSTRY SCANDAL ROCKS THE CITY."