Quick Transmigration: The Sweetheart Everyone Loves Is Stuck in Romantic Chaos Every Day - Chapter 72

Luo Qingli snatched the wedding invitation, reading it over and over again.

His fingers trembled as he gripped the card.

—She’s alive. She’s alive?! She didn’t die.

But now, she was to become someone else’s wife!

In an instant, Luo Qingli swung between ecstasy and despair, shock and fury.

His complexion grew deathly pale, yet in his eyes, a smoldering fire reignited.

It was anger, yes—but also a raging, consuming jealousy.

Only after reading his imperial brother’s letter did he finally piece together the truth.

Helian Zijun had already ascended the throne. Using his identity as emperor, he had forced and lured Riguo into agreeing to a political marriage.

His imperial brother, weak and greedy for the benefits promised by Helian Zijun—yet fearful of Haixi’s military might—had agreed without consulting him.

He thought he could hide it. But Helian Zijun deliberately demanded that Luo Qingli, the “former husband,” must attend this wedding feast.

As if worried he might somehow miss this “great joy,” the emperor had even ordered the invitation to be delivered into his hands personally.

“Heh…”

Luo Qingli tore the wedding card into shreds, a cold laugh escaping his lips.

“Helian Zijun, I truly underestimated you.”

—But Ruan Tang could only ever be his princess consort.

“Prepare my horse.”

He scattered the scraps of paper into the air. His face was dark as storm clouds, brimming with the promise of coming thunder.

…

Ruan Tang had changed into the pure white silk gown Helian Zijun sent over, its layered gauzy skirts setting off her waist so slim one could encircle it with a single hand.

Even barefaced, she was already breathtaking. Now, carefully dressed by attentive maids—with arched brows, crimson lips—she was stunning enough to topple nations.

Her peach-blossom eyes shimmered with liquid light. One glance, one turn of her gaze, seemed enough to ensnare the very soul.

Helian Zijun’s eyes betrayed his awe; his heart softened into a pool of spring water.

Like cradling a rare and fragile treasure, he supported her with infinite care as he led her toward the banquet hall.

“But isn’t this only a welcome banquet? Why dress up so much?”

Ruan Tang blinked her long lashes, curiosity shining as she looked up at him.

Helian Zijun’s gaze flickered.

“Because… I invited many important guests to attend.”

This engagement with Ruan Tang, he intended to settle first and explain later, concealing the truth from her entirely.

Because he had no confidence she would agree.

Yet if he delayed, some other bastard might snatch her away. He had no choice but to take this risk.

Fortunately, the marriage rites in Haixi were simple—no cumbersome ceremonies. As long as a priest recited the prayers, followed by a grand banquet, it was complete.

And with TangTang’s dreamy, muddled nature, perhaps she really could be coaxed into it.

“Then… will there really be delicious food?”

Ruan Tang’s eyes lit up, full of eager anticipation.

Helian Zijun’s lips curved in tender indulgence.

“Of course. Plenty of delicacies—you can eat to your heart’s content.”

At that, Ruan Tang could hardly wait. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the hall.

“TangTang, slower, careful…”

She pushed the doors open—and froze in surprise.

The hall was solemnly decorated, filled with rows of richly dressed, imposing guests. All eyes turned toward her in unison.

Ruan Tang faltered, squeezing Helian Zijun’s hand tighter, unease flickering across her face.

In spotless white, untouched by dust, Helian Zijun wrapped an arm around her waist, lowering his head to murmur softly at her ear.

“Don’t be afraid, TangTang. Be good.”

But just as she opened her mouth to reply, she felt a sharp, piercing gaze stabbing into her.

Her body trembled. She raised her watery peach-blossom eyes—only to meet a pair of narrow, cold eyes burning with fury.

“Yi? Luo Qingli?”

The aloof, untouchable prince, usually cool as frost, had lost his composure entirely. He shoved aside the guests blocking his way and strode straight toward her.

His aura surged forward like a debt-collector come to seize payment.

Startled, Ruan Tang instinctively shrank back, hiding behind Helian Zijun, clutching at his robes and peeking out with only her small head, gaze timid.

Helian Zijun raised an arm protectively, barring Luo Qingli’s advance.

“Prince, what is the meaning of this? I invited you here out of regard for TangTang—not for you to make a scene.”

He had calculated Luo Qingli’s arrogant, face-saving nature—convinced he would never cause trouble in public. By making him attend, he could finally crush the man’s last hopes.

He never expected this prince to lose control so quickly.

A miscalculation.

Luo Qingli’s eyes cut coldly at Helian Zijun.

“Move.”

Helian Zijun’s smile dropped. “I will not.”

Danger gleamed in Luo Qingli’s narrowed eyes as he looked past him at Ruan Tang hiding behind.

“Ruan Tang, you left me by such means—just for him?”

Ruan Tang blinked, bewildered, looking from one man to the other.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about…”

Luo Qingli drew from his robes the divorce letter, the one he had read countless times. In front of everyone, he ripped it into pieces, letting them flutter down like snow.

Amid the falling scraps, his gaze locked onto her, obsessive and unhinged.

“Ruan Tang, you can only ever be this king’s consort.”

In one motion, he seized her into his arms, his hand pressing firmly against the nape of her slender neck, and kissed her fiercely.

His action was so outrageous, so beyond belief, that Helian Zijun didn’t even react at first.

When he did, his face turned dark as thunder. Snatching a guard’s blade, he swung it at Luo Qingli.

But Luo Qingli, clutching Ruan Tang tightly, only tapped lightly at the ground with his toes, carrying her aloft with ease.

His body was frail, but his lightness skill was still formidable.

“What are you standing around for?! After him!!”

Helian Zijun roared through clenched teeth.

But Luo Qingli had not come alone—he brought elite soldiers from his princely manor.

In an instant, the wedding banquet descended into chaos. Guests fled in panic as blades clashed, the hall turning into a battlefield.

Helian Zijun brandished his sword, pointing it at Luo Qingli, fury etched across his face.

“Let her go!”

But Luo Qingli only held Ruan Tang closer. His long, elegant fingers tilted her delicate chin upward, forcing her to meet his gaze.

His thumb brushed over her swollen lips, his voice hoarse and low.

“Wife, did he ever touch you like this?”

Ruan Tang’s breath quickened, her eyes reddening at the corners. “Let me… go…”

Helian Zijun’s eyes went bloodshot.

“Bastard! Take your filthy hands off her!”

But Luo Qingli seemed not to hear him, his obsession unwavering. Leaning close to Ruan Tang’s sensitive ear, he whispered like a devil’s temptation.

“Be good. Tell your husband—has he touched you, or not?”