Chapter 314: We are married
Goosebumps erupted across her arms as she stared at Hua Jing in horror. "W-what nonsense are you spouting?!"
But Hua Jing only laughed softly, her shoulders shaking ever so slightly. She took a step forward, closing the space between them.
Lin Qian instinctively stepped back.
Hua Jing stepped forward again.
Lin Qian stepped back faster.
Step. Step. Step.
It was like a predator chasing prey, only Hua Jing’s smile was far too elegant and her eyes far too suggestive. The red silk of her robe fluttered around her as she moved, every sway of her hips deliberately slow, as though she were performing on a stage.
Her red lips curved upward, dangerous and alluring. "What’s wrong, Lin Qian? You look nervous."
Lin Qian’s breath hitched. She stumbled back another step, clutching at the air as if searching for an escape route.
"S-stop!" she stammered, pointing a shaking finger at Hua Jing. "W-what do you think you’re doing?! Don’t come any closer!"
But Hua Jing did the exact opposite.
She leaned in, so close that her flawless face was only inches away. Her perfume curled through the air, intoxicating, dizzying.
Her gaze lowered, lingering deliberately on Lin Qian’s lips before trailing back up with leisurely slowness. "What do I think I’m doing? Hm..." She tilted her head, pretending to ponder, her voice dripping with wicked amusement. "Maybe I’m thinking about eating you alive."
Lin Qian: "!!!"
Her whole body trembled, her eyes widening like a startled deer’s. "Y-you—! Shameless! Absolutely shameless!"
Yet Hua Jing only laughed, the sound low and magnetic, sending chills racing down Lin Qian’s spine. Her hand lifted slightly, fingers brushing the air near Lin Qian’s shoulder, so close it almost counted as a touch.
Lin Qian’s back hit the wall. She froze.
Hua Jing loomed in front of her, her red-clad figure practically glowing in the dim light, the silk fabric swaying as though it had its own heartbeat. Her lips curved into a smirk, her gaze locked onto Lin Qian with the intensity of a hunter cornering prey.
Just when Hua Jing’s face came within a breath’s distance—
BOOM!
A powerful force surged like a gust of invisible wind, yanking Hua Jing backward.
Her body staggered several steps away, her smile flickering into a look of surprise. "!"
Hua Jing’s body staggered back several steps, her usually calm balance momentarily broken. For the first time, her smile wavered, flickering into a look of pure surprise.
A hand — firm, steady, and absolutely unyielding — was clamped around her waist.
Her gaze shifted, and the corners of her lips twitched in obvious displeasure. "..."
Standing right behind her, half-hidden in the shadows just moments ago, was none other than Fu Jingrong.
The man’s tall, imposing frame loomed like a mountain, his expression cold yet edged with something unreadable. His hand rested securely around Hua Jing’s waist, as though daring her to wriggle free.
Hua Jing’s brows arched, and she turned her head ever so slightly, sending him a glance sharp enough to slice steel. What is this man doing?
He had been sitting there quietly, hadn’t he? Watching silently from the corner as if everything happening had nothing to do with him. She thought he was only going to spectate, let her have her fun, let her tease Lin Qian until the poor girl fainted from embarrassment.
But no. The moment her face got too close, the moment her teasing leaned into dangerous territory—he had appeared. He had pulled her back. He had placed his hand firmly around her waist like a possessive warning.
Could it be... jealousy?
Her eyes glimmered with mischief. This man can’t possibly be jealous, right? He knew I was joking. He should know better than anyone. So why is his reaction so... excessive?
Lin Qian, still plastered against the wall with her heart racing, finally managed to process what had just happened. Her eyes darted between Hua Jing and Fu Jingrong.
The sight in front of her was nothing short of scandalous.
The icy Fu Jingrong, with his arm locked firmly around Hua Jing’s slender waist.
The elegant Hua Jing, her displeasure fading into something softer, more playful, her lips curving as if she were about to tease him instead.
Ambiguous. That was the only word.
Lin Qian’s thoughts spun wildly. Weren’t these two supposed to hate each other? Wasn’t it common knowledge in the circle that when Fu Jingrong and Hua Jing crossed paths in the same hallway, they would both turn back in disgust, refusing to breathe the same air?
She remembered the rumors vividly:
— Fu Jingrong allegedly said he’d rather walk barefoot on glass than share a table with Hua Jing.
— Hua Jing supposedly told reporters she would quit the industry before ever working with him.
And yet, here they were.
His hand on her waist.
Her body leaning back against his.
Their gazes locked like an unspoken battle, or worse—like an unspoken secret.
Lin Qian, being the straightforward person she was, did not bother hiding her shock.
"What..." she stammered, her voice trembling, "what exactly is going on between the two of you?!"
The words cut through the thick air like lightning.
Hua Jing immediately broke eye contact with Fu Jingrong, her sharp displeasure vanishing in an instant. She turned to face Lin Qian instead, her lips quirking into a lazy, dangerous smile.
Her voice carried a lilt of amusement as she tilted her head. "Hey, hey."
Lin Qian: "..."
That tone was too casual. Too knowing. Too dangerous.
Lin Qian’s stomach dropped. She had already felt something was off earlier, hadn’t she? When she came backstage after her performance, both Hua Jing and Fu Jingrong had been in the same room. Not a single insult had flown. No cold sarcasm, no sharp remarks, no icy atmosphere that could freeze the walls.
At the time, Lin Qian had dismissed it as exhaustion from the event. But now, with Fu Jingrong’s hand visibly circling Hua Jing’s waist, with Hua Jing gazing back at him so playfully—it all made sense.
So that’s how it is...
Her eyes widened as realization slammed into her like a tidal wave.
These two... They must have been in a relationship all along!
Lin Qian’s lips trembled as she opened her mouth, but before she could voice her conclusion, Hua Jing’s clear, melodious voice rang out.
"Between me and him?" She gestured nonchalantly at Fu Jingrong, her tone so casual it was almost cruel. "He’s just my husband."
"..."
Lin Qian’s jaw dropped so wide it nearly hit the floor.
Her mouth had already been agape from shock a moment ago, but now it fell open completely, forming a perfect "O."
Her face turned red, white, and red again in an instant. Her eyes darted between the two of them like she was watching a scene straight out of a ridiculous drama.
"H-h-hu—husband?!" Lin Qian choked on the word, her voice shooting up several octaves. "Did you—did you just say husband?!"
Hua Jing’s smile deepened, her eyes curving like crescents, her voice dripping with delight as she added the final strike:
"Yes, husband. As in, married. As in, mine."
Lin Qian felt as if she had stumbled into a forbidden book, one whose pages revealed secrets too scandalous for the world to handle.
Her wide eyes darted between Hua Jing and Fu Jingrong — left, right, left, right — like a spectator at a tennis match. Every blink was loaded with disbelief, every breath shaky and uneven.
Her shock did not fade, even when Hua Jing, with that infuriatingly casual tone, had dropped the word that shattered her entire worldview: husband.
Fu Jingrong, for his part, looked completely unconcerned with her disbelief. He didn’t bother to explain, didn’t bother to soothe, didn’t even open his mouth. He simply stood there, tall and immovable, as if it were only natural for Hua Jing to be the one doing all the talking.
But the truth was... even his icy composure wasn’t quite unshaken.
When he first heard her call him husband, his cold expression had flickered for just a fraction of a second. It was almost imperceptible — but it was there. Surprise. A flicker, sharp and sudden, before vanishing again beneath the layers of ice.
Yet as his gaze slid down, landing squarely on the little woman standing in front of him — Hua Jing, dressed in fiery red, lips painted the same shade, her curves outlined by silk that swayed with every movement — something in his eyes shifted.
Those cold eyes softened, turning several shades warmer without him realizing it.
He could not help it.
His gaze lingered. Once. Twice. Again. The more he looked, the harder it was to look away.
So this is what she means by husband... mine.
Before he even realized it himself, the corner of Fu Jingrong’s lips lifted slightly, a ghost of a smile betraying the warmth he tried to keep buried.
Hua Jing caught the faintest trace of his expression from the corner of her eyes. For some reason, her heart gave the tiniest skip, though she immediately masked it with a teasing smirk.
Her attention slid back to Lin Qian, who still looked like a statue frozen in shock.
"..."
