Quick Transmigration: The Sweetheart Everyone Loves Is Stuck in Romantic Chaos Every Day - Chapter 238

Jintang froze, completely caught off guard.

The next second, that faint, intoxicating fragrance drew closer.

Then—his lips were suddenly met with a soft, warm touch, seizing every last shred of his awareness.

Something gently pried open his tightly sealed lips and slid inside, tender and insistent.

His entire body stiffened like iron. The tips of his jade-like ears flushed crimson in an instant, as though bleeding.

His heart pounded violently. In his panic, he accidentally bit Ruan Tang’s lip, breaking the skin just slightly.

Ruan Tang’s delicate brows furrowed, and she glared at him with teary-eyed grievance.

After passing a small pill into his mouth, she pulled away without the slightest hesitation.

The moment that soft warmth disappeared from his lips, Jintang suddenly felt an emptiness inside him, as though something essential had been ripped away.

Ruan Tang’s voice was gentle. “That was the antidote. It should start taking effect soon.”

Jintang blinked blankly.

Sure enough, he felt the heat in his body gradually subside.

He was stunned—so it really was the antidote?

But then, he… he had been so fierce with her just now, even biting her lip until it bled.

His lashes trembled, betraying the turmoil within. After a long hesitation, he spoke slowly.

“I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to hurt you. You just suddenly—”

Excitement rushed to his face, flushing his cheeks red again. But he abruptly cut himself off, dropping his gaze as he muttered in an almost inaudible voice:

“…Th-That was my first kiss.”

He was simply far too shy. He had never been so close to anyone before.

By all logic, having his first kiss stolen by a woman he had always despised should have filled him with anger and grief.

But he didn’t feel any hatred.

Instead, a strange, uncontrollable tremor stirred within his chest.

He even thought that just passing the pill wasn’t enough—that what he truly wanted was something deeper, more entangled, more intimate—

The thought startled him so much his face grew even redder.

Ruan Tang hadn’t heard his final words clearly. Tilting her head in confusion, she chose not to press.

Instead, she continued, “That drug was very toxic. If you hadn’t taken the antidote in time, it might have harmed your body. That’s why I did it that way.”

She explained earnestly, then added sincerely:

“I didn’t expect Imperial Sister would go this far. To be honest… I’m not actually that obsessed with you.”

The words struck Jintang like a resounding slap across the face.

The flush drained from his cheeks, leaving him pale as snow.

In that instant, his heart throbbed with a sharp, inexplicable pain.

Ruan Tang didn’t untie his wrists, afraid he might run.

After all, the Phoenix Monarch had decreed—if he dared leave the room tonight, he would be executed.

She only loosened the bindings a little, adjusting him into a more comfortable position.

“I’ll let you go once it’s daylight. Just lie down and rest.”

Without waiting for his reply, she turned and walked away.

As that faint fragrance drifted farther from him, panic suddenly surged in Jintang’s chest.

He strained to peer through the thin veil. All he could make out was a slender, delicate silhouette, blurred and hazy.

“You…”

His voice rasped low and hoarse.

The drug’s effects were ebbing, and the heat in his body slowly receded.

But another kind of restlessness was just beginning—

A turmoil within his heart.

He was torn, unwilling to let her go, yet baffled by the chaos of his own emotions.

Just like that sudden pang of heartache—so strange, so unfounded.

So in the end, all he managed was a single “You…”, with no continuation.

Ruan Tang’s steps faltered briefly, but she didn’t look back.

Her voice was calm, even polite and detached.

It sounded obedient, yet for some reason it filled Jintang with dread.

“Don’t worry. I won’t touch you.”

With that, she left for the outer chamber.

Through the veil, Jintang could only chase after her fading silhouette. His restlessness swelled all the stronger.

Why wouldn’t she turn back?

Did she hate him now?

No—that couldn’t be. She had persisted for so long, delivering calling cards every day just to see him for a moment.

Everyone said this once-wanton princess had truly given up her frivolous ways for his sake.

Until now, he had only felt disdain and disgust, dismissing those words as nonsense.

—Yet now, he found himself clinging to that very “nonsense” for comfort.

Lost in these thoughts, he suddenly heard her open the window and call out softly:

“Stoic~”

Her tone was entirely different from how she’d spoken to him earlier—sweet, soft, coquettish, with a lingering lilt like she was pouting.

Jintang’s heart clenched as if stabbed by a sharp needle.

The pain made his brows furrow.

Outside, Ruan Tang had barely called when a dark figure flashed past.

In an instant, Mo Xuan appeared before her.

The tall, silent bodyguard, ever loyal, dropped to one knee with his head bowed low.

Even with his lashes lowered, the joy in his eyes could not be hidden.

“Your Highness.”

Ruan Tang blinked at the sight of rain on his black garments, shoulders, and hair.

“It’s raining outside?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Only a light drizzle.”

The next second, this pampered little princess crouched down in front of him.

Taking out her scented handkerchief, she gently wiped the damp strands clinging to his hair.

Mo Xuan was so shocked he forgot he wasn’t supposed to look directly at his master’s face.

He stared, utterly entranced, at the delicate features so close to his own.

Her long lashes curved like butterfly wings, thick and graceful like tiny fans.

Her porcelain cheeks were flawless even up close, soft as a newborn’s.

But there, on her plump and tempting lips, was a faint wound.

Like a burning ember, it seared into Mo Xuan’s eyes.

His expression darkened, and his voice turned rough. “Your Highness…”

He was just about to press her for an answer when a dull thud came from the inner chamber.

Followed by a low, muffled groan.

Ruan Tang instantly shoved the handkerchief into his hand and hurried inside.

Mo Xuan’s eyes dimmed slightly as he silently followed.

Sure enough, Jintang had somehow fallen right off the bed.

Ruan Tang panicked, rushing to his side to carefully lift him.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt? Does it hurt? How could you suddenly fall like that?”

Jintang’s face remained stern, though his ears burned crimson.

Of course he wouldn’t admit he had done it because hearing their intimate words made him uncomfortable—so he’d acted out in a childish bid for attention.

Only then did Ruan Tang realize Jintang didn’t seem to like being touched.

Startled, she let go in a hurry.

With a smack, Jintang fell to the ground again.

This time he seemed dazed, forgetting even to lose his temper.

After a long moment, he lifted his head, his eyes shining faintly red with grievance through the veil.

“You threw me?”

Ruan Tang looked guilty, like she’d caused trouble. Instinctively, she inched closer to Mo Xuan for protection and apologized timidly.

“You didn’t want me touching you… Stoic, can you help lift him back onto the bed?”

Jintang awkwardly wanted to protest, to say one touch wouldn’t kill me.

But Mo Xuan never gave him the chance.

It was as if he had been waiting for this command all along.

The moment Ruan Tang spoke, he strode forward, grabbed Jintang by the collar with one hand—

And tossed him onto the bed like a sack of grain.

With a heavy crash, Jintang slammed hard against the bedframe.

t/n: “Stoic” (悶葫蘆, literally “stuffed gourd”) is a colloquial nickname in Chinese for someone who doesn’t talk much or keeps their emotions bottled up, often used half-mockingly, half-affectionately.