Chapter 267: He did not know what happened next

Fu Jing Rong stood frozen for a heartbeat—just one—but it stretched like eternity.

Something inside him cracked. No, shattered. A suffocating kind of fear, brittle and wild, tore through his chest. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew—he had to get there.

The world around him blurred. The chatter of stunned onlookers, the distant honking, the city lights—all of it faded. All that existed now was that car.

The one wrapped around a lamppost, metal crushed like paper.

The crash had happened in a quieter part of the city, just off the award venue. The street was narrow, almost deserted. A cold drizzle had fallen earlier, and the ground was slick beneath his shoes as he sprinted forward. His dress shoes slipped slightly as he ran—he didn’t care.

The scent of smoke hit him first—sharp, biting, metallic.

Then the sparks.

The car was smoldering at the hood, faint orange flames licking out from under the bonnet. And in the driver’s seat—

Hua Jing.

"Hua Jing!" he screamed, his voice cracking so hard it barely sounded human.

He gripped the handle of the door—burning hot—and pulled.

Nothing.

He growled, yanking it again.

Still nothing.

"Please," he breathed, voice hoarse. "Don’t do this to me."

His heart was pounding so hard he could barely hear himself think. He slammed his fist against the window, blood smearing on the glass. Her head was tilted, her body slumped forward. Her hair, usually perfectly kept, was stuck to her face with blood. A crimson trail ran down from her temple. Her arms dangled loosely, and the side of her gown was ripped, soaked through.

He could see it clearly now—her face, her lips—her life, slipping.

Something primal took over. He gritted his teeth and threw his body into the door. It budged slightly. He rammed it again, shoulder screaming in protest. Again. Again.

The door gave.

He stumbled inside, catching her before she slumped fully over the center console. "No—no, no, no," he muttered, voice cracking again. His hands went to her face, her cheek sticky with blood and glass.

"Hua Jing, answer me! It’s me!"

Nothing.

His heart was spiraling into chaos. He looked at her body—blood on her chest, legs bent at an angle that didn’t seem right, breathing so shallow he had to press his face near her lips just to be sure.

He scooped her into his arms, trembling under the weight of panic.

The scent of orchids and fire clung to her, even now.

"Please," he whispered. "Don’t leave me."

The crowd gasped behind him. Sirens were approaching. But he didn’t hear them.

He held her as tightly as he could, her blood smearing across his white shirt, soaking through.

He had no words. Only the weight of her body. Only the memory of her smile flashing behind his eyes like a ghost.

As the paramedics came sprinting toward him, he barely managed to choke out:

"Save her. Please. She’s my whole world."

The paramedics didn’t even need introductions.

They knew who he was the second they saw his face—Fu Jing Rong, the nation’s most guarded star. And the woman in his arms? None other than Hua Jing, the firebrand actress and his long-time rival—or so everyone thought. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

But this didn’t look like rivalry.

This looked like heartbreak.

The paramedics paused for a moment too long, their faces stuck somewhere between shock and confusion. Their job didn’t leave room for questions, yet what they were seeing... it was something else.

One of them muttered under his breath, "Weren’t they enemies?"

But no one answered. There wasn’t time.

The car behind them hissed, a dark smoke curling from under the hood like a warning. Sparks flicked higher.

"We need to get out of here, the car could explode!" one paramedic shouted.

But Fu Jing Rong didn’t move.

He didn’t blink.

He just clutched her tighter.

"Please," he whispered, voice shattered, "don’t leave me."

The wind picked up, catching the ends of his blood-soaked shirt. His body trembled, but his grip on her was unyielding. "You can hate me, Hua Jing. You can despise me for every fight, for every insult. I deserve it. But... just stay. Stay in this world."

His voice cracked on that last word, and then he broke—really broke.

The tears weren’t slow.

They came fast and hot, stinging his eyes, streaking down his face, falling onto her ruined dress like rain.

He wasn’t even speaking to anyone anymore.

"I don’t want anyone else. It’s always been you. You’re the only one I ever..." He choked. "I never told you, did I?"

The paramedics were yelling now. One of them tugged his arm.

"Sir, she’ll die if you don’t let go. We have to move her now. The car is unstable!"

He still didn’t move.

Not until the wind shifted—and the sharp scent of gasoline hit hard. Someone shouted again, louder this time, and only then—only then—did his arms loosen just enough for them to take her.

He stayed on his knees.

The blood still warm on his palms.

His eyes didn’t track anything. His ears barely heard.

All he saw was her hand... limp and still... as they wheeled her away.

He stood slowly, feet heavy, body numb. Everything around him felt like it was underwater. The flames behind him flickered higher.

He turned, just in time to see the fire leap forward—a roaring scream of metal and smoke and fury—as the car exploded behind him in a thunderous blaze.

The force of it knocked several bystanders off balance. People screamed.

Phones clicked in the background. None of those pictures would ever see the light of day. Fuhua Entertainment would bury them all.

But Fu Jing Rong didn’t care.

He staggered once, dazed, eyes still locked on the sky. His heart? He wasn’t sure it was still beating.

Then someone touched his shoulder—gentle, hesitant.

"Sir? Sir, are you okay?"

No response.

His eyes closed.

And just like that, he collapsed—the world slipping out from under him.