Chapter 294: When the princess was displeased...
Her eyes swept over the tabloid again, the mocking words of netizens flashing across the screen. "Lin Qian’s singing has always been awful—no loss to the lineup." "Good riddance, she was never Blue Awards material anyway."
Hua Jing exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening around the phone.
She knew Lin Qian. Back in the day, the two of them had crossed paths more than once, and their feud was no secret in the industry. They had fought for endorsements, for stages, for recognition. Hua Jing had never liked her—but even then, she had to admit one thing.
Lin Qian was a very, very good singer.
Her voice had power, emotion, and technique that couldn’t be denied. There was no way public opinion would suddenly turn and call her "tone-deaf." No... someone was pushing this narrative.
Bought comments... a water army, Hua Jing thought grimly.
Then, one particular comment caught her eye.
"I heard she offended somebody big. Honestly, I don’t blame her for lashing out, but isn’t this punishment a little harsh?"
Hua Jing’s stomach tightened.
Lin Qian’s career had been gaining momentum recently—two singles climbing the charts, both praised for their quality. There had even been whispers of an upcoming tour. This performance at the Blue Awards was supposed to cement her rise, to give her that last push of exposure before going fully international.
And now? She was axed. Publicly humiliated. Her name dragged through the mud.
Hua Jing’s lips pressed into a thin line.
Her thumb hovered over the screen as a new notification popped up—a promotional video released by Blue Entertainment for tomorrow’s ceremony.
She tapped it open, the glossy production filling her screen.
Hua Jing scoffed, almost angrily, before forcing herself to breathe and calm down. It has nothing to do with me anymore, she reminded herself.
The video ran for a full minute—and every second was drenched in praise for Hua Ling.
Clips of her rehearsing, snippets of her singing, dramatic flashes of her smiling as though the entire award ceremony was built for her alone.
Blue Entertainment had claimed this was a promotional video for the Blue Awards.
But to Hua Jing’s eyes, it was nothing more than an advertisement for Hua Ling.
Her mouth twitched when, midway through, a few other artists finally appeared—fleeting, no more than one or two seconds each. After that, the spotlight immediately returned to Hua Ling.
That was all Hua Jing needed to see.
It confirmed what she already suspected.
Hua Ling had been the one behind Lin Qian’s sudden removal from the performance lineup.
And if not for Lin Qian’s powerful backer, she probably wouldn’t even be attending the awards tomorrow at all.
Hua Jing set her phone down for a moment, her mind racing.
She knew Lin Qian well enough. Explosive, blunt, and utterly incapable of pretending. If she didn’t like you, she’d say it straight to your face. If you crossed a line, she’d cut you down without hesitation.
So it wasn’t hard to imagine how she had angered Hua Ling.
After all, Hua Ling was the pampered princess of Blue Entertainment.
And when the princess was displeased—this was what happened!
The door to the bathroom suddenly opened.
Hua Jing lifted her gaze from the screen and found herself staring directly at Fu Jingrong.
He had just stepped out of the shower. His damp hair clung to his forehead, water droplets trailing slowly down his temples, disappearing past the collar of his shirt.
A shirt, she realized, that wasn’t even buttoned properly yet. His chest was exposed, toned muscles glistening faintly under the soft bedroom light.
Her phone buzzed again in her hand. Another tabloid update. She blinked, glancing back down, and almost snorted.
The headline flashed brightly:
"The King Returns! Netizens Explode Over Fu Jingrong’s Comeback at the Blue Awards."
She scrolled, and her lips twitched against her will.
The comments section was already overflowing:
"Oh my god, I can’t believe it! Finally! The man of my dreams is coming back on stage!"
The tabloid was obviously false yet these people still believed it without a single doubt!
"Who even cares about the awards? I’m literally only buying a ticket to see Fu Jingrong’s face."
"His jawline could cut glass... look at those recent photos. He hasn’t aged a day."
"The way he walks? Ugh, like a runway god. That stride alone is worth the price of admission."
"Please, please, PLEASE—can I just be reincarnated as the towel he uses after showering?"
"Shut up, all of you. He’s MINE. I’ve already claimed him in my heart for years."
"If I could just have one night with him... just one... I’d die happy."
"Honestly? Forget awards. Forget music. I just want to watch him breathe."
"Fu Jingrong in a suit should be considered a national treasure. Where’s my petition?"
"I’m dragging my husband to the Blue Awards, but let’s be real, I’m only there for Fu Jingrong."
Hua Jing’s thumb hovered over the screen as she read one comment after another, each one more exaggerated, more shameless than the last.
And the worst part?
As her eyes flicked upward again, every single word she read seemed to materialize in front of her.
Fu Jingrong, with his long legs, casually strolling across the room while still drying his hair with a towel...
Fu Jingrong, chest half-bared, droplets of water sliding down his collarbone, rolling over the ridges of muscle as though even water was reluctant to leave him...
Fu Jingrong, with that quiet, unbothered aura, every move graceful in a way that made him seem untouchable.
She clenched her jaw and nodded once, muttering silently to herself.
Well... they aren’t wrong.
One particular comment made her lips twitch uncontrollably:
"The woman who ends up in his arms is the luckiest in the entire world."
She glanced sideways at him again, her gaze sweeping his tall frame, his damp shirt clinging faintly to his body. The thought sneaked in uninvited, almost mocking her: Lucky, huh?
But just as quickly, the next wave of comments shattered her calm.
"I’d sell my soul for a night with him."
"Whoever he’s with, I envy her. No—scratch that—I HATE her."
"If I could sneak into his bed even once..."
The words hit her like knives.
Her chest tightened, and her grip on the phone grew painful. She felt her lips tremble—not from laughter this time, but from something sharper, something sour.
Jealousy.
