Transmigrating into the Prince Regent’s Beloved Runaway Wife

Gone like that?

Meng Huan was a little surprised.

According to the original plot, shouldn’t the prince regent feel his body burning at the moment and resist the urge to immediately xx while deliberately teasing and humiliating the original shou like a cat attacking a mouse?

Meng Huan stayed in the water for a moment in a daze. The fight between them in the original book tonight could be called extraordinary. One would rather stubbornly die than submit, and the other was a madman the society criticized but encouraged to offend.

The more you struggled, the more excited I was. The more excited you were, the more I struggled.

It was full of tension that made Meng Huan pound the bed in the middle of the night and release excited, unbearable screams.

At that time, the comment section was full of “Wuhu~ flying pants~” making anyone coming in at this point feel confused.

But now, he and the prince regent’s clothes and pants were off, but they were not stirred together?

Wasn’t this plot deviation a little too big?

—Of course, Meng Huan did not mean that he expected to be xx himself.

Putting on his clothes and pants and walking back intact, Meng Huan walked back with the night breeze blowing, and a realization flashed in his mind……

Lin Bozhou was so cold, could it be because his temper was not strong enough?

“………………”

Generally speaking, sexual fetishes were quite stimulating to the libido. Otherwise, why would there be a classification of calm and cool shou, small crybaby shou, muscular and fierce shou, big tit shou, etc., in the lecherous text?

The tag was a sexual fetish. People preferred to see the label attuned to their tastes, which also expressed a sexual fetish.

My God! Meng Huan had directly made the original host’s calm and cool persona collapse into a stupid shou.

“……” Swallowing his saliva, Meng Huan mentally said: Sorry.

But if Lin Bozhou was uninterested in him, did it mean that the original book’s love-hate relationship storyline could all be avoided, and he would no longer have to worry about being xx and killed?

Meng Huan: Yes!

It’s good to stop striving. All hail to stop striving!

The otherworldly life of a wastrel person began today.

The night breeze was cool. Meng Huan returned to his room with a slightly cool breeze, light feet, and a spring in his step.

He entered the door and touched the glossy pearwood Taishi chair*, delicate jade-like Jingdezhen* ceramics, beautiful regular script’s writing brush, porcelain teapot, jade wine cups, wither wood dragon guqin*, silk veil and bedding, and the still hot pastries on the tabletop……

*Taishi chair: the only chair named after an official position in Chinese furniture. It was originally an official chair, a symbol of power and status.

*Jingdezhen prefecture: famous for porcelain.

*Guqin: a plucked seven-string Chinese musical instrument.

Looking at the carved dragon and drawn phoenix on the roof beam and pillars, he mentally thought: The prince regent’s residence is so luxurious. It’s an excellent place to live, leaving aside the danger to life.

The maids entered the door. “Madam, the washing water is ready.”

“Madam, the evening meal is already cold. Should I ask the cook to make some more?”

“Madam, this is a freshly poured hot tea.”

The maid sisters were also gentle.

Meng Huan: ^v^

After a full meal, Meng Huan fell back to the soft mattress. His mind was dizzy, and he rubbed his head.

The incense in the quilt was heavy, making his mind wander, and he lazily pondered the matter of transmigrating into a book. Meng Huan was orphaned from childhood in his original world. He was raised by the institution until he went to university at the age of 18, where he began to work part-time while studying to pay for tuition and living expenses.

He learned to draw and paint, and he desperately fulfilled orders every day. At first, he read this book to draw the characters and never imagined he would transmigrate into it.

At that time, when Meng Huan watched the TV series, he was most envious of the luxurious and wealthy life of the royal family. They could eat and drink whatever they wanted, and there was someone to care for them.

I never thought it would be my turn.

I have to say that Heaven has eyes.

Thinking about it, Meng Huan fell asleep. He woke up remembering his duties as a concubine and called for the maid. “What do I need to do?”

The maid: “As His Highness didn’t summon his wife, Madam does not need to serve tea, so there is no need to do anything.”

So easy?

Meng Huan blinked. “Then, do I need to accompany His Highness to eat, sleep, and provide entertainment?”

“His Highness does not like to be disturbed. If His Highness wants to see his wife, he will send someone to inform him. Madam can wait in the courtyard and don’t have to go voluntarily.”

It’s a pity, the maid thought after talking. Both had shared a bath with their pants off last night, but the prince still stormed off in a huff. The matter of them not entering the bridal chamber had spread all over the prince’s residence. This handsome young madam was about to be sent to the “cold palace*” and probably no longer had the opportunity to be favored. She also couldn’t get a better life.

*Cold palace: a place where a monarch banishes a wife or concubine who falls from favor.

It’s a good thing, Meng Huan thought. This was simply the early stage of a standard aristocratic widow.

If Lin Bozhou was uninterested in him, he wouldn’t be summoned and didn’t have to rack his brains on how to please him. Meanwhile, Lin Bozhou was wealthy and had majestic status, so he could eat until his belly became round behind him.

Meng Huan looked pensive, seeming to be thinking about something.