Quick Transmigration: The Sweetheart Everyone Loves Is Stuck in Romantic Chaos Every Day - Chapter 55

The girl’s body was soft and alluring, like holding a delicate blossom… or a wisp of cloud.

It felt as though the slightest extra force would shatter her completely.

That left Luo Qingli suppressing the urge in his heart, wrapping her gently in his arms.

“Cold, aren’t you? This prince will take you home.”

Ruan Tang suddenly felt that this prince didn’t seem quite as fierce as she’d thought. Compared to the icy, heartless man in the original host’s memories, he was almost like a different person.

But… it was too late. She had already decided to leave.

…

Once they were in the carriage, Luo Qingli had someone bring in a small hand warmer for her to hold.

He, however, kept coughing non-stop, his face pale to the point of being bloodless.

Ruan Tang looked at him with worry.

“Your Highness, what’s wrong? Is it the cold?”

Luo Qingli coughed as he replied, “It’s nothing, just an old illness acting up.”

In truth, when he saw that Ruan Tang hadn’t returned so late at night, he’d grown anxious and gone to find her himself.

Halfway there, rain had started to fall—and he hadn’t taken an umbrella. His body was already frail, and after being drenched, he was reaching his limit.

Still, he didn’t let it show, afraid Ruan Tang might despise him for his weakness.

So he forced himself to maintain his usual image—cold, aloof, like an untouchable flower atop a high mountain.

Ruan Tang studied him for a moment, thoughtful.

Then, clutching the warm little hand stove, she quietly snuggled into his arms.

Luo Qingli froze, then immediately turned red and coughed harder, as if startled.

“You—what are you doing? I’m sick, you’ll catch it—”

Ruan Tang ignored him, curling closer and even tucking the little stove into his embrace.

Her small head rubbed against his chest, and like a satisfied kitten, her peach blossom eyes narrowed into a smile.

“I’m cold. Let me hold you… can’t I?”

Luo Qingli’s pale face turned bright red in an instant, his ears burning.

The girl in his arms was so soft and enticing. The warmth of her body seeped through the thin layer of clothing, her graceful curves pressed against him… it was practically criminal.

His heart pounded wildly, to the point of pain.

Worse still, with her so close, a dangerous desire stirred within him—like a caged beast ready to break free.

And yet, the culprit had no idea. She found a comfortable position and promptly fell asleep in his arms.

Luo Qingli sighed helplessly, though part of him was relieved.

He glanced down at himself, a faint flush creeping over his refined, cold features.

Good thing she was asleep. Otherwise…

Ahem. He’d probably scare her.

…

The carriage reached the prince’s residence.

Tuoba Hong rushed out, just in time to see Luo Qingli’s carriage stop.

The curtain lifted, and Luo Qingli stepped down, cradling the sleeping Ruan Tang in his arms.

Tuoba Hong froze, then quickly stepped forward.

“What happened to her?!”

Luo Qingli cast him a faint glance, lowering his voice.

“Nothing. Keep your voice down—you’ll wake her.”

Once he confirmed she was unhurt, Tuoba Hong relaxed slightly.

Then, seeing Luo Qingli’s sickly state, he said kindly, “Look at you. Go rest—I’ll—”

He reached out, intending to take Ruan Tang.

But Luo Qingli’s cold, sharp gaze stopped him instantly.

“She is this prince’s woman.”

His narrow, piercing eyes and expressionless face carried an unshakable authority that brooked no argument.

Without another word, he strode past, carrying Ruan Tang into the residence.

Tuoba Hong’s arms hung frozen midair, his expression stunned.

A moment later, his brows furrowed.

So it was true—Luo Qingli really did care for Ruan Tang.

How ironic.

Ruan Tang had been married into the prince’s household for so long, and he’d never spared her a thought.

But now that Tuoba Hong had begun to care for her… Luo Qingli—

Tuoba Hong rubbed his brow, irritation darkening his face.

The fact remained: Ruan Tang was his legitimate wife by formal marriage rites. How was he to… take her back?

The man who had always been upright and proper now stood in shadow, his expression carrying a faint gloom that didn’t match his usual persona.

…

The next day, Luo Qingli fell ill.

Ruan Tang, feeling guilty, secretly checked on him several times, but he remained unconscious and feverish.

Clumsily, she brewed a bowl of medicine—a recipe she’d gotten from the system said to be effective for his condition.

She carefully brought it to Luo Qingli’s room, only to be stopped at the door by Tuoba Hong.

“You’re that worried about the prince?”

Half of his face was hidden in shadow, his demeanor somehow different from before.

He showed little expression, yet seemed vaguely… angry.

Ruan Tang’s lashes trembled. She nodded. “After all, it’s my fault he fell ill…”

Tuoba Hong’s deep, magnetic voice carried a strange, cold weight.

“That’s only because his body is weak. If it were me, I could stand in the rain for three days and nights and still not be like him. With such a frail husband… can he really give you happiness?”

Ruan Tang felt something was off about his words, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

So she said nothing.

Tuoba Hong studied the obedient, soft girl before him.

Her thick, curled lashes trembled like tiny fans, casting faint shadows against her pale skin.

Her lips were soft and rosy, like ripe cherries—one bite, and they’d surely release sweet, tender juice.

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

Then, in a low voice, “If you really want to see him… then come in.”

He took the medicine bowl from her hands, grasped her soft little hand, and led her inside the prince’s room.

The door shut tightly behind them—with a lock.

Aside from the unconscious Luo Qingli, only Ruan Tang and Tuoba Hong remained.

Tuoba Hong set the medicine aside and took a step toward her.

Ruan Tang looked up at the tall, strong, handsome man before her, a flicker of unease in her heart.

Blinking in confusion, she asked softly, “General-gege (t/n: affectionate term for elder brother, here used intimately for Tuoba Hong), what’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that…”

Tuoba Hong didn’t answer.

He advanced step by step, forcing her back until she fell onto the edge of the bed.

Just behind her was the pale, unconscious prince—her husband in name.

Tuoba Hong slowly knelt before her, leaning closer, his strong arms braced on either side, caging her in.

Silent, he was like a drawn sword—sharp, cold.

But in his pitch-black eyes, a searing heat burned.

“I dreamed of you.”

Ruan Tang blinked in confusion. “What?”

His voice was hoarse.

“I dreamed of a world different from this one. My identity, my face—they were all different. Only one thing was the same—” His gaze locked onto hers, like a predator closing in. “I loved you.”