Quick Transmigration: The Sweetheart Everyone Loves Is Stuck in Romantic Chaos Every Day - Chapter 228

“Who gave you permission to touch her with your filthy hands?”

“—Little Main God.”

The contempt and mockery laced in that address made Summer Lan’s fury spike.

But the crushing force pressed down on him so heavily that even standing upright became difficult.

Cold sweat trickled slowly down the back of his neck.

Chi Han yanked Ruan Tang into his arms. With one hand, he flicked Summer Lan’s forehead casually, as though teasing.

Yet in the next instant, Summer Lan was hurled several meters away by a terrifying force.

His back slammed against the wall with a dull thud, blood spilling from his lips and soaking his clothes.

His left leg bent at an unnatural angle—it might have snapped.

Chi Han turned his head, sweeping a glance at the other three men.

That gaze treated them as nothing more than ants.

Cradling Ruan Tang, he bent down, resting his chin in the crook of her neck, and kissed the small, sensual mole just behind her ear.

His long fingers teased through her black hair, grazing over the ambiguous marks left behind.

Tilting his head with a boyish grin, he spoke to the three men in a light, cheerful tone:

“Those marks? I left them. What do you think? Jealous?”

“Jealous my ass!!!”

Chi Yang kicked the barrier furiously.

“You damn pervert, let her go!”

Right before their eyes, Chi Han slid his hand down to Ruan Tang’s waist, stroking her with deliberate intimacy.

His taunt was vicious:

“Should I give you boys a live broadcast?”

Yan Qing’s cold composure shattered; his gaze burned with savage intent.

Lin Yao clenched his fists so tightly that his nails cut into his palms, drawing blood—he didn’t even notice.

Chi Yang’s face twisted as he bit out each word, voice seething with murder:

“If you want to die, by all means, keep trying.”

He didn’t care if the man before him was demon, god, or monster—touching his girl meant he had to be ready to die.

Chi Han tilted his head, seriously considering it.

“You’re right.”

If he provoked any of them into awakening, that would be troublesome.

Besides—

“I’m not about to let you see Tang-Tang’s cutest side anyway.”

Chi Han laughed brightly, almost innocently.

“A puppy like me knows how to serve his master best. Too bad none of you will ever learn my tricks.”

And with that, he vanished with Ruan Tang in his arms.

Ruan Tang dreamed that dream again.

The one where the big dog pinned her down.

Only this time, the ticklish feeling on her neck followed her out of the dream into reality.

When she opened her eyes, she found Chi Han kissing along her soft earlobe, lips warm and greedy.

“Chi… Han…?”

He pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Good morning, Master.”

“Where is this?”

Her bright peach blossom eyes widened slightly.

“Wasn’t I just in the theater…?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

Chi Han laced his fingers through hers and led her to a door.

“Want to see the most precious treasure I’ve been keeping?”

“Eh?” Ruan Tang, still half-asleep, blinked in confusion.

Chi Han gave her small hand a squeeze.

“I hadn’t planned to show you so soon—I was afraid it might scare you. But this plane won’t hold out much longer.”

“What… treasure?”

Chi Han opened the door.

Ruan Tang froze.

The room was large but eerily empty, devoid of any signs of life.

The only real piece of furniture was a soft, oversized bed placed in the center.

But that wasn’t what shocked her.

Every wall was plastered with photographs—of her.

Countless versions of her in countless moments, under different lights, from different angles, at different times and places.

Her smiling sweetly.

Her dozing off in class, head propped on her palm.

Her blushing shyly.

Her looking down, lost in thought.

Her staring dreamily out the window.

Each expression, each state of being—captured perfectly.

All the photos shared one thing in common:

Not a single one showed her looking at the camera.

They had all been taken without her knowledge.

Yet every shot made her look stunning—beautiful as a film star.

Standing in that strange room, it felt as if she were surrounded by countless versions of herself.

On the central wall, directly opposite the bed, hung the largest photo.

It was of Ruan Tang asleep, her face sweet and defenseless, clad in an oversized pajama top.

But the hem had ridden up, exposing her waist—where vivid, fresh marks were branded onto her skin.

The top half of the photo was pure and beautiful, her angelic face so innocent it begged protection.

But the lower half, with its indecent traces, stirred the deepest, darkest desires in the heart.

This photo of Ruan Tang was a contradiction of purity and temptation—enough to drive anyone mad.

“That’s my favorite one.”

Chi Han’s voice turned soft and puppy-like, eager to please.

“What do you think? Didn’t I capture her perfectly?”

Ruan Tang blinked her long lashes, dazed, then slowly realized.

“So it wasn’t a dream…”

Those strange, heated feelings she often “dreamed” of at night—they hadn’t been dreams at all.

Chi Han paused, then laughed lowly.

“Tang-Tang, you’re not afraid?”

If it had been anyone else, she might have been frightened, disgusted even.

But Chi Han gave her a feeling of deep familiarity.

So familiar that nothing he did could truly surprise her.

So instead, she smiled softly, sweetly.

“No. I’m not afraid.”

At that smile, his gaze darkened.

He traced her lips with his fingers, voice hoarse.

“Then… will Tang-Tang let me take new photos?”

He paused, then added:

“This time, I want us both in the picture.”

Ruan Tang tilted her delicate face in confusion.

“A photo together? Sure. Where should we go? Should we pick a pretty scenic spot?”

But before she could finish, Chi Han swept her up into his arms and strode toward the bed.

His deep, magnetic voice rasped, dripping with sinful charm:

“—No need. The bed will do.”

Ruan Tang: “?????”

The next day, Ruan Tang still hadn’t managed to get out of bed.

Her throat was hoarse from crying, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked up at him.

Chi Han, with his long hair swept back from his forehead, revealed a beautiful face—sharp brows, straight nose, and those puppy eyes now tinged red.

He looked down at her with pure devotion, drenched in sweat, muscles taut and glistening.

She clutched at his arm weakly, gasping.

“Han… when will you let me go…?”

His eyes reddened instantly, brimming with grievance.

“Tang-Tang wants to leave? Who do you want to go to? Chi Yang? Yan Qing? Lin Yao? Or—”

He broke off, unable to finish.

The thought of anyone else coveting the soft, obedient girl in his arms filled him with burning jealousy.

And those other men’s presences were growing increasingly unstable—their awakening was only a matter of time.

Once they awakened, finding this place would take mere moments.

His time with Ruan Tang was running out.

But just as that thought passed, an explosion rattled the door.

Someone had found them.

Chi Han’s face darkened instantly.