Chapter 349: A bickering couple
Chapter 317, Part 1
As the event progressed, Hua Jing’s gaze drifted to the seat beside her. It had remained empty from the moment she sat down, standing out precisely because of its position. Anyone familiar with such events would know that this was not a random placement. Indigo Beauty was meticulous to the point of obsession. A seat like this was reserved for someone whose presence carried weight.
She slowly looked around the hall. Faces overlapped with memories—directors she once worked with, actors she had shared stages with, investors who used to greet her enthusiastically whenever they crossed paths. Some of them came over tonight, their smiles a little too apologetic, their words carefully chosen as they explained how busy they had been a year ago, how helpless they felt when she disappeared after the accident. Others avoided her entirely, their eyes darting away the moment she looked over, pretending not to notice her existence at all. Hua Jing understood it too well. The entertainment industry had always been cruel in its efficiency. Once you vanished, even temporarily, you were quickly replaced.
She responded to everyone with the same composed courtesy, never cold, never overly warm. Whatever emotions once existed had already settled into silence. When the lights dimmed and the stage came alive, the atmosphere shifted. A ballet performance opened the evening, dancers moving with flawless grace beneath soft lighting, followed seamlessly by an orchestra whose music filled the hall with restrained grandeur. Champagne flowed freely, crystal glasses clinking softly, yet even in such an elegant setting, Hua Jing felt a persistent unease crawl up her spine.
Someone was watching her.
This gaze was different from Hua Ling’s sharp hostility. It was heavier, more disgusting, carrying a sense of entitlement that made her uncomfortable. When Hua Jing turned her head, her eyes met businessman Zhou’s. He did not bother to hide it. His stare lingered openly on her face, as if daring her to react. For a moment, Hua Jing almost laughed. It seemed that humiliation had not taught him enough.
She casually lifted her hand and brushed her chin, the movement lazy, almost dismissive. Businessman Zhou stiffened instantly. His face darkened as recognition hit him, the memory of that night flashing through his mind along with the sharp pain and the eyes that had watched him make a fool of himself. His fists clenched tightly, knuckles whitening, before he abruptly looked away. Hua Jing felt the pressure ease and released a quiet breath. She had no intention of letting a man like him ruin her evening.
Just as her attention returned to the stage, she sensed movement beside her. Someone took the empty seat. The presence was unmistakable. When she turned, she met Fu Jingrong’s eyes.
Her heart skipped once, then settled.
She had not expected him. Not tonight. Not like this. Since their relationship was still hidden from the public, the two of them sitting together was enough to fuel countless assumptions. Fu Jingrong looked completely at ease, his expression calm, his gaze lingering on her in a way that felt far too intimate for such a public setting. Hua Jing straightened slightly, reminding herself where they were.
She turned her head away, lips curving faintly as she spoke in a low voice meant only for him. "Nice to meet you, handsome sir."
Amusement flickered in his eyes.
"I heard," she continued lightly, "that keeping secrets from your wife isn’t very healthy. Especially if you want to live long."
For a brief second, Fu Jingrong’s composure cracked. A soft laugh escaped him before he looked away, as if nothing had happened. To anyone watching, they appeared distant, polite, even faintly hostile. Only they knew how carefully measured every word had been.
The cameras caught everything.
Within minutes, the photos were everywhere.
And the internet exploded.
"Why do they look like they’re arguing without saying a single word?"
"This atmosphere is killing me. Tell me they’re not together and I won’t believe you."
"Brother and sister? Please. What kind of siblings look at each other like that?"
"That man is definitely in trouble. Look at his face. He’s being scolded."
"No, seriously, that’s husband-and-wife energy if I’ve ever seen it."
"I swear Hua Jing looks like she’s smiling, but also not smiling. This is peak tension."
"Fu Jingrong looks guilty. I don’t know why, but he just does."
"They’re sitting so close but pretending not to know each other. I’m dying."
"Someone tell me I’m not the only one seeing this."
"Indigo Beauty invited chaos tonight."
Inside the hall, the music continued, refined and calm, completely unaware of the storm raging online. Hua Jing sat quietly beside Fu Jingrong, her expression serene, as if none of it concerned her at all.
The orchestra’s melody flowed steadily through the hall, strings and brass intertwining in a restrained, elegant harmony. Hua Jing listened absentmindedly, her attention half on the stage and half on the subtle shifts around her. It was then she sensed it—the space beside her shrinking almost imperceptibly, a presence edging closer with unhurried confidence. She lowered her gaze, only to realize that the champagne glass resting near her fingers was no longer the one she had been holding moments ago.
Her breath stalled.
The man beside her was leisurely sipping from it, his posture relaxed, as though this audacious exchange were the most natural thing in the world. The rim of the glass tilted back into his hand, and when Hua Jing finally looked up, Fu Jingrong met her eyes without the slightest trace of guilt. He lifted the glass again with deliberate slowness, his gaze fixed on her, and pressed his lips down precisely where her lipstick mark remained.
Warmth rushed to her face before she could stop it. Beneath the glow of the chandeliers, her blush was unmistakable, softening her features and lending her an almost unreal gentleness. The contrast between her composed exterior and that fleeting, unguarded reaction made her look ethereal, like something illuminated briefly before vanishing again. Fu Jingrong noticed it too, his eyes darkening with quiet amusement as he leaned back, perfectly satisfied.
To them, it might have felt like a private game, a silent provocation carried out in plain sight. But they were not alone in noticing the shift.
From farther away, a man sat watching.
His gaze had been wandering lazily across the hall, passing over familiar faces and forgettable conversations, until it stopped abruptly on Hua Jing. He studied her without blinking, his attention sharpening as if something had finally cut through the noise. The way the light fell on her face, the faint color lingering at her cheeks, the calm confidence she carried even while seated—it all set her apart from everyone else in the room. Beneath the cascading glow of the chandelier directly above her, she seemed almost detached from the surroundings, as if the entire hall were merely a backdrop.
There was something about her aura that felt different. Not loud. Not deliberate. Just unmistakably present.
The man’s expression changed subtly. Interest replaced indifference. He lifted his hand and beckoned to his assistant, who leaned in immediately. Without looking away from Hua Jing, he pointed in her direction, his finger steady and precise.
"Find out everything about her," he said quietly.
The assistant followed the gesture, scanning the area in confusion at first. "Which one, sir?"
The man’s eyes narrowed slightly as he pointed again, this time unmistakably, his gaze locked on Hua Jing.
"Her."
