Quick Transmigration: The Sweetheart Everyone Loves Is Stuck in Romantic Chaos Every Day - Chapter 125

Suddenly, before anyone could react—

A radiant, captivating smile bloomed at the girl’s lips.

She tipped backward, and just like that, fell into the sea, vanishing without a trace.

No one could have foreseen this scene.

Ji Jing reached out in a panic, but all he caught was the silk ribbon tied around her wrist.

In an instant, his eyes nearly split with rage and despair.

“Miss!!!”

Bai Jinfeng stumbled forward and looked down.

The sea was pitch black. Where could he still see her delicate figure?

His desperate voice ripped through the night: “Tangtang!!”

Both men went mad, wanting to dive after her, but were forcibly restrained by other guests.

The scene descended into chaos.

The bodyguards dove in immediately to save her.

But no matter how they searched, they couldn’t find that petite, beautiful silhouette.

It was as if she had turned into foam, just like the little mermaid from a fairytale. (t/n: In Chinese pop culture, “turning into foam” directly references Andersen’s tale of The Little Mermaid, who dissolves into sea foam rather than winning her love. It symbolizes tragic disappearance.)

This news shocked the entire nation of Z.

Countless fans wept as if their hearts were being torn apart.

Outside Ruan Tang’s home, Qi Xiu blocked Ji Jing, who was stumbling about in a daze, and beat him half to death.

Ji Jing neither fought back nor allowed the bodyguards to intervene.

He endured the rain of fists smashing into his face and body, almost as if punishing himself.

At last, Qi Xiu, his hands bloodied and trembling, clutched Ji Jing’s collar, his eyes shot through with red.

“Weren’t you right at her side?! Why didn’t you stop her? Why did you just stand there and watch her—”

The rest of his words strangled in his throat, his eyes burning with knife-sharp grief.

“Why?! Why didn’t you save her?!”

Ji Jing, soulless and empty, forced a twisted smile.

But that smile was uglier than crying.

“I’m useless. I couldn’t protect Miss. I couldn’t even… find her…”

He couldn’t bring himself to utter that cruel word.

His heart had shattered into countless pieces, never to be made whole again.

—

Meanwhile, Ao Wang locked himself away in his room, surrounded by empty bottles.

He cursed himself for not being able to get drunk. Why was his alcohol tolerance so strong?

He wanted to drink himself unconscious, to dream of meeting that soft, adorable girl again.

But after every drunken stupor, there was only emptiness in his dreams.

“Tangtang, you’re so cruel… You won’t even give me a dream…”

The once unruly, defiant young man now sat with reddened eyes, head buried, sobbing until his voice broke.

The System closed its window, unwilling to keep watching the four men’s torment.

Sigh. It seemed clear enough—they truly loved Ruan Tang deeply.

It glanced at its own host, curled up on the sofa, happily sucking on a lollipop while watching cartoons.

The System could only sigh again.

Helpless. The men are infatuated, but she feels nothing.

This wasn’t Tangtang’s fault.

After all, the four of them had never confessed. And with Tangtang being this dense, how could she possibly notice?

When Ruan Tang spotted the System, her peach blossom eyes lit up with delight.

“Tongtong! Well? Have my reward points been deposited yet?!”

The System shook its head.

“Not yet. This world is a little unusual. We’ll have to wait until those four finish walking out their storylines before your reward points can be issued.”

After all, there was no guarantee that the “white moonlight” wouldn’t affect their future actions. (t/n: “white moonlight” in Chinese refers to someone’s unattainable, idealized love—perfect and forever untouchable, like moonlight. It’s contrasted with “cinnabar mole,” the passionate, painful love one cannot let go.)

The System was pessimistic.

But what it never expected was that the follow-up would be even more absurd.

“What?! Your host can’t even get in?!”

On the other side, another system nearly cried.

“Yeah! The mission time is about to begin, but my host just can’t enter this world! It’s like the entire plane is rejecting her. What the hell is going on?!”

According to the original mission timeline, five years later, a new girl was supposed to appear and save the four men from the agony of losing their white moonlight.

The System curled its lip.

It didn’t take a genius to guess—clearly those four bigshots were behind this.

Originally, it thought they would simply ignore the new host.

But this?

Ha. Forget ignoring—she can’t even get in.

—

“Tangtang, I have one bad news and one good news.”

“Eh? What’s the bad news? Did the mission fail again?”

“Not yet…”

The System hesitated guiltily, though honestly, failure was probably near.

“Other hosts can’t get into this world. So, you’re the only one who can keep finishing the mission here.”

It drew a deep breath.

“Which means… you’ve got to keep working.”

Ruan Tang’s peach blossom eyes widened in shock.

“Eh? And the good news?”

The System shook the script in its hands excitedly.

“Tangtang, this time you’ve been assigned the Sea Queen script!”

Ruan Tang’s eyes flew wide.

She had heard of “Sea Queen” before.

It meant keeping a whole harem of “fish” (men) while balancing their affections, always walking on thin ice in the middle of chaos, constantly at risk of everything collapsing. (t/n: it’s modern slang for stringing along multiple romantic prospects at once. A “Sea Queen” is a woman who juggles many admirers like fish in the sea.)

Her lips instantly pouted in grievance.

“That’s the real bad news!!!”

—

In a bright, spacious office—

A handsome man wearing gold-rimmed glasses sat staring blankly at a photo of Ruan Tang on his desk.

His features were refined and striking, except for a long scar etched along the edge of his brow.

It didn’t detract from his beauty, but instead added a sharp, dangerous edge.

“President Ji, there’s an invitation for a charity gala.”

Ji Jing had long since freed himself from the Ruan family’s control. In just five years, he had built his own business empire, one that rivaled the Ruan family’s.

Like them, he had relied on means hidden from the light.

Now he needed such public acts of charity to polish his reputation.

Yet today, he had just received word from his subordinates—still no trace of Ruan Tang.

He was in no mood to socialize.

His thin lips parted: “Decline it.”

The assistant nervously reminded: “President Ji, it’s from T University.”

T University?

Miss Tangtang’s alma mater.

Ji Jing lowered his gaze to the smiling girl in the photo, his chest aching sharply.

“…I’ll attend.”

—

Qi Xiu had just returned from representing Asia at a world-class Internet technology summit.

Frustrated, he yanked off his tie and loosened his collar.

He had realized his dream. He was now the programming prodigy and the youngest CEO of a leading Internet empire, admired by all.

It was everything he had once yearned for.

And yet, now it only disgusted him.

Without Ruan Tang by his side, what was the point of success?

He had clawed his way to the top for one purpose only—to gain the power to find her.

But five years had passed, and still no sign of her.

Had she really died?

He refused to believe it.

Until he saw proof with his own eyes, he would never believe it.

—

“Best Actor Yan, how does it feel to win your award again tonight? Do you have any joy you’d like to share?”

Yan Jinfeng’s gaze drifted somewhere distant, his eyes gentle yet filled with sorrow.

“None.”

The reporters froze collectively.

He pushed away the microphone, his voice cold, tinged with grief.

“The one person I wanted to share my joy with… she’s not here.”

“So, I have nothing to say.”