Married First, Loved Later : A Flash Marriage with My Ex's 'Uncle' novel Chapter 555

Chapter 555: Blow After Blow

Ronald’s face flushed crimson, his expression caught between rage and helplessness.

"Just eighth place... what’s there to be so smug about! Mr. Reid, just wait—the rest of the rankings will all belong to Country Y!"

Logan didn’t even glance his way. His eyes stayed on the stage as he said calmly, "Continue."

After Q accepted his award and stepped down, the host moved on.

"In seventh place... Number 32."

When they checked the name, the Country Y assistant beside the host went pale.

It was another distinctly Country M name...

"Seventh place goes to... Ms. C—"

A plain, forty-year-old woman rose from her seat.

The Country Y contestants looked as if they had swallowed flies.

They were perfumers. In their eyes, this was supposed to be a high-end profession, the pinnacle of artistry, the very definition of elegance.

And yet this woman—ordinary-looking, lacking all the "refined" airs they worshipped—had taken seventh place.

Chosen not by one or two, but by twenty-five judges and the one hundred-member audience jury combined!

The hall fell deathly silent. Those arrogant Country Y contestants who had been so loud before now couldn’t utter a word.

Logan spoke softly, "Mr. Ronald, what do you think?"

Ronald’s face was iron-blue, but he forced his voice through clenched teeth: "It’s just seventh place... two spots in the top ten don’t matter. And none of them are high rankings anyway!"

"Is that so?" Logan nodded lightly. "Then let’s continue."

Sixth place was announced—and from the farthest corner seat, a nineteen-year-old girl leapt up, almost shaking with excitement.

Fifth place followed—the shy middle-aged man sitting right beside her.

Fourth place—a tall, elegant, poised woman rose gracefully from the Country M seats.

By now, the Country Y contestants and audience were numb. They had gone from wide-eyed disbelief and shouting denial to sitting in stunned silence after the fourth-place announcement.

From fourth all the way to eighth—five slots in a row.

Every single one had gone to Country M.

Every single one.

Impossible. How could this be?

And yet, the system was there for all to see. From the initial submissions onward, each perfume had been tracked, monitored, and scored. No substitutions, no tampering.

Most of the judges were Country Y themselves—surely they wouldn’t bias toward Country M.

But still, there was comfort left.

Ronald’s student, Frank, tried to reassure himself: "It’s the top three that matter. The top three are what the world will remember. So what if they grabbed five spots? The real glory is ours!"

"Frank’s right. As long as we take the top three, it’s still our victory!"

Ronald seized on the thought, his face grim. "Mr. Reid, don’t get ahead of yourself. Fourth and fifth don’t matter. That doesn’t mean you can touch the top three! As long as Country Y sweeps the podium, we win!"

Logan’s brow lifted slightly. "No need to get so worked up, Mr. Ronald. Announce the top three."

The host drew a deep breath, nodded, and turned back to the list. This was the moment—the climax of the broadcast. Country Y streams and Country M streams alike were packed to capacity.

"The winner of third place... Number 10..."

Another Country M name.

No. No, it couldn’t be.

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