Quick Transmigration: The Sweetheart Everyone Loves Is Stuck in Romantic Chaos Every Day - Chapter 71

A few days later, they arrived together in Haixi.

It took He Lian Zijun less than half a month to drive his ambitious younger brother—who had coveted the heir’s position—entirely out of the game.

The King of Haixi, already inclined toward indulgence and favoritism toward his son, simply chose to abdicate after this incident, retreating into early retirement. He directly passed the throne on to He Lian Zijun.

Not long afterward, a woman who had been tortured into a pitiful, disheveled state was thrown into the water dungeon of Haixi.

He Lian Zijun, newly crowned king, stood before the cell. He wore resplendent robes and a delicate golden crown that gleamed against his blond hair, only heightening the aristocratic beauty of his features.

Lifting his long fingers to cover his nose, he frowned faintly, unable to hide his disgust.

“Tsk. The stench is unbearable.”

This woman, he had heard, was the mistress of his useless younger brother.

She was also the one who had ordered assassins to deal with Ruan Tang during that attempt on his life.

He wanted to see for himself—what sort of wretched thing dared to target his TangTang.

“Your Highness…”

The woman dragged her bloodied body across the wet ground, crawling toward the bars with her last bit of strength, begging for mercy.

“Look at me—please, look at me…”

With trembling hands she pushed back her matted hair, revealing a face still marred with burns. Her expression had already slid into madness.

“I’m beautiful, aren’t I? Haven’t you fallen for me? I’m the female lead of this world! I’m a transmigrator! Of course you must like me—right?”

He Lian Zijun was so startled by her ruined face that he instinctively stepped back, pressing his sleeve to cover his mouth and nose.

“Tsk. She’s insane.”

He refused to glance at her again. His voice, when he spoke, was ice.

“Why did you target Ruan Tang? Who ordered you? Speak truthfully, and I’ll see you suffer less before your death.”

At the mention of Ruan Tang’s name, the woman snapped.

“Ruan Tang again! Always her! Why?! I’m the female lead! Why do all of you only have eyes for her?!”

This woman was none other than Chen Meng.

After her failed scheme back in the prince’s residence, she had been cast out and drifted all the way to Haixi.

When word spread of Ruan Tang’s brilliance in Li, how even that cold, aloof prince regarded her differently; how the Crown Prince of Haixi, He Lian Zijun, openly declared his affection; how Li’s iron-blooded General Tuo Ba Hong became her escort—

Chen Meng’s jealousy curdled into a desire to kill.

She concealed her burn scars with skillful cosmetics and worked tirelessly until she managed to seduce Haixi’s second prince.

But the second prince, though He Lian Zijun’s half-brother, was no match in either talent or bearing.

Chen Meng had foolishly dreamed that once He Lian Zijun returned to Haixi, she could approach him through her status, and eventually rise to be queen.

All those dreams crumbled.

Because of Ruan Tang—because of that wretched woman—

“What does she have?! I’ll kill her—I’ll kill that lowly—”

Before she could finish, He Lian Zijun gave a glance, and a guard shoved a filthy rag into her mouth.

Just then, Tuo Ba Hong and Gu Cheng arrived at the dungeon.

Tuo Ba Hong gave a cold laugh. “He Lian Zijun, you summoned us here just to show how you torment your brother’s woman?”

He Lian Zijun smiled radiantly, but in those azure eyes gleamed both cruelty and childlike innocence.

“How can this be blamed on me? The moment she plotted against my TangTang, her fate was sealed.”

The other two men’s faces darkened.

“So it’s her?”

“Yes. Well? Do either of you recognize her? Do you know why she wanted TangTang dead?”

The only reason He Lian Zijun had left Chen Meng breathing was to uncover whether someone had orchestrated things from behind, to ensure TangTang wouldn’t face danger again.

When Tuo Ba Hong saw the woman’s burns, memory struck.

“She was Ruan Tang’s maid. I once caught her trying to pour scalding lamp oil onto TangTang’s face.”

At those words, killing intent flared in Gu Cheng’s eyes. With a flick of his hand, a hidden weapon flashed from his fingertip, slashing a bloody line across Chen Meng’s already ruined face.

How dare she lay hands on his young lady—courting death.

He Lian Zijun’s smile vanished. He gazed at Chen Meng with the cold indifference reserved for insects.

“So it’s nothing but ugly jealousy. Then there’s no more need to ask—”

He paused, then turned toward his two rivals, spreading his hands.

“Since I’m in a good mood today, I’ll leave the pleasure of removing this pest for TangTang’s sake to the two of you. Well? Who wants the honor?”

Tuo Ba Hong narrowed his eyes. “You just don’t want to dirty your own hands.”

He Lian Zijun laughed carelessly. “Think what you like. I’m leaving—you two decide among yourselves.”

With that, he turned to leave with his men.

Gu Cheng frowned. “Would he really be so generous? Hand us the chance to earn credit with Miss Tang?”

“Of course not.”

Tuo Ba Hong’s lips curled with disdain. “That bastard is plotting something.”

No sooner had the words left him than a heavy thud echoed—the iron gate slammed shut.

Both men’s expressions changed. They rushed to the entrance, only to see the dungeon doors sealed tight, bound with heavy iron chains.

From outside, He Lian Zijun’s bright smile gleamed like sunlight through bars.

“This is Tianshan Black Iron. Took me quite some effort to find. Even for the two of you, breaking out won’t be quick.”

His voice rang clear, mocking and radiant.

“What a pity—you won’t be around to drink at my wedding feast.”

A shadow passed over Tuo Ba Hong’s heart. He growled, “Wedding feast? With whom?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

The young king tilted his head slightly, golden hair shining in the light.

“With my TangTang, of course.”

Gu Cheng drew his sword in fury, hacking toward He Lian Zijun—only for the blade to crash against the iron door.

The anger twisting his rivals’ faces filled He Lian Zijun with delight.

He smiled, turned, and walked away.

At the same time, in Li’s royal residence—

On the bed reclined a frail beauty.

Skin pale from lack of sunlight, delicate brows and eyes that had once seemed cold and refined were now emptied of spirit.

It was as though his soul had been stripped away, leaving only a hollow shell tormented by longing into ruinous frailty.

In his hand he clutched a letter.

It was the only letter his princess had ever written him—not a tender love note, but a cold, merciless divorce decree.

Every reading twisted his heart to shreds. Yet he still refused to let it go.

Because it was in Ruan Tang’s own handwriting.

Now, it was all he had left of her.

“My lord, please eat a little, or your health will not endure…”

Luo Qingli did not respond, his vacant gaze fixed on some invisible point. No one knew what thoughts chained him.

Ever since news of Ruan Tang’s death, he had remained in this state.

His servants were frantic with worry, powerless to rouse him.

At that moment, a personal attendant burst in, breathless.

“My lord—His Majesty has sent word. You are commanded to attend a wedding feast in Haixi—”

Luo Qingli said flatly, “I will not go.”

“But my lord… the wedding invitation…”

The servant dared not speak the name written there, but trembling, he opened the brilliant red card and presented it.

Luo Qingli gave it the barest glance—and froze as if struck by lightning.

The names of the bridal pair were written clearly.

He Lian Zijun and…

Ruan Tang.