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The next day, the capital was alive in a way it hadn’t been for months.

Everywhere one looked, the streets were teeming with people. Cars lined up in long queues, taxis dropped off fans in a hurry, and vendors were already making a small fortune selling glow sticks, light boards, and posters of the biggest nas in the industry.

Towering above the crowd, the massive billboard at the center square lit up, replaying snippets from the last Blue Awards. The familiar faces of past winners flashed across the screen—icons who weren’t even attending this year but whose presence still lingered in the legacy of the show. Fans stopped in their tracks to scream and cheer at the clips, even though the footage was years old.

Blue Entertainnt’s official page was also exploding. The live comnt feed scrolled endlessly, filled with anticipation and excitent.

"I can’t wait for the show to start!"

"My idol is finally performing—this will be the best night ever!"

"Everything looks so incredible this year, the production is insane. Only Blue Entertainnt can pull this off!"

"Counting down the seconds, I don’t even care if I lose my voice tonight, I’ll scream for her until my throat bleeds!"

"Please let my favorite win an award, I’ll cry if he doesn’t."

And others, bolder and brasher, wrote on the comnt second their favourite artists:

"I love you! I love you! Marry already!"

"Forget the stage, I’ll jump into the stadium if it ans I get to see you up close!"

Excitent was at its peak, and it only grew as people poured into the massive stadium where the event was about to take place.

The stage itself was a marvel. Built at the far end of the arena, it was decorated with cascading panels of shimring silver and gold, reflecting the spotlights in dazzling arrays.

The main screen was the size of a building, already cycling through teasers of the performing artists. Rows upon rows of neon lights traced the outlines of the platform, waiting for the first beat to set them ablaze.

The seats were nearly full, though the show hadn’t even started. Fans waved light boards with nas written in bold colors, whole sections glowing in different shades as each fandom marked their territory.

Most of the boards had Hua Ling’s face on them and the fans themselves scread quite loudly;

"I love you!" voices rose like a tide.

"I love you, my goddess!"

"I’ll support you forever!"

...

By the ti the sun dipped low, the capital was brimming with excitent.

Every corner seed alive, the voices of thousands rising together as the Blue Awards drew near. The air itself felt charged, trembling with anticipation.

Everyone knew the stage would shine later, but for now, all eyes were on the red carpet.

It was more than a walkway—it was a battlefield of fashion, a stage where stars set the tone for the night without singing a single note.

Two carpets awaited the arrivals. The first stretched outside, where sleek cars would pull up one by one.

The second, the grand crimson path inside the arena, glittered under hundreds of lights, ready to immortalize every step, every smile, every turn of fabric caught by the flash of a cara.

Fans pressed against barricades outside, waving banners, clutching posters, and holding up glowing lightboards. Many had waited since dawn. Their voices rose each ti headlights appeared at the end of the street.

The first black sedan rolled to a stop. Screams erupted instantly.

Han Ming, last year’s chart-topping pop sensation, stepped out. He wore a midnight-blue velvet suit that shimred faintly with diamond accents. He lifted a hand to wave, and the noise doubled, shrieks piercing through the evening air.

Another car pulled in, delivering Yu Xinyi. She erged like a vision, her silver gown flowing to the ground, a daring slit catching the light with every step. Her smile dazzled, her movents smooth and deliberate, and the caras went wild.

"Xinyi! Goddess!" fans scread, their throats hoarse already, but their passion unshakable.

Then ca Luo Zhen. The actor-turned-idol stepped out of his car in a white tuxedo with black satin lapels, his slicked-back hair framing his sharp jawline. His smirk alone made dozens of fans cry out in desperation.

"Luo Zhen, marry !" soone scread, while another simply wailed, "I love you!"

Car after car continued to pull in. Each new arrival brought another wave of shrieks, another explosion of flashing lights. Reporters scrambled to capture the perfect shots, caras popping like fireworks across the crimson carpet.

Even though most of the artists had already shown up, the fans weren’t satisfied.

Their cheers were loud, their banners bold, but in their eyes, there was still a trace of impatience. They were waiting for soone. Soone special.

Many big nas had yet to arrive. Blue Entertainnt had planned it this way—saving the giants for last. The strategy was clear: to boost the montum and keep the energy burning until the very end.

Lin Qian was one of those nas. Even though she had been taken off the performance list, her fans refused to abandon her. They showed up in droves, lining the barricades with glowing boards and lightsticks.

"Lin Qian! Lin Qian! Lin Qian!" they chanted, their voices rising in unison, fierce and unrelenting.

It was a show of loyalty, of defiance, a reminder that no tabloid or backstage trickery could erase her popularity.

But not everyone welcod it.

Across the sa red carpet, Hua Ling’s fans bristled at the chants. Their shouts rose in retaliation, drowning out the rhythm of Lin Qian’s supporters.

"Hua Ling! Hua Ling! Our Queen Hua Ling!" they scread, their faces flushed with passion.

Back and forth it went, a tug-of-war of voices. The crowd split down invisible lines, one side fiercely defending Lin Qian, the other fighting for Hua Ling.

The reporters loved it. Their caras swung back and forth, capturing the heated rivalry as if it were part of the show itself.

And yet, even with the chanting, the counter-chanting, the passion and the fury—neither camp seed satisfied.

Because everyone knew.

Neither Hua Ling nor Lin Qian were the one the whole capital was holding its breath for.

There was soone else. Soone whose presence would silence all argunts, soone whose arrival would make even the loudest fans forget themselves.

The one special person everybody was waiting for...

You are reading MY PRINCE HUSBAND HAS SEVEN WIVES AND I AM HIS FAVOURITE! Chapter 296: I’ll support you forever on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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