Transmigrating into the Prince Regent’s Beloved Runaway Wife

The guests of the teahouse were dismissed, the guards of the yamen blocked the inside and outside, and the people watching the excitement at the main entrance surrounded them. A line of majestic guards came on horseback, with long knives and shields separating the crowd, leaving a wide aisle in the middle for people to walk.

The tall and straight man, like jade, got out of the carriage and was supported by others. The crimson robe embroidered with dragon patterns hurriedly passed by the crowd.

There was a threshold in the tea house, and Lin Bo Zhou soap boots kicked it, tripped over it, his normally steady shoulders suddenly tilted to the right, and almost fell to the ground.

"My lord!" Zhang Hu, the commander of the palace guards, exclaimed.

He wanted to hold Lin Bozhou's arm, "This subordinate supports the prince!"

But under the sleeves of the robe, they were pushed away heavily, and the man's hands were extremely cold, without any warmth. Lin Bozhou walked across the threshold and stopped in the already empty backyard, as if looking for something, his eyes covered with white gauze scanned the surroundings, and his jaw was half raised.

Depressed back, the skinny lines around the neck, half-raised, as if drenched in the rain for a long time.

"Has the teahouse been searched?" The voice was also damp.

"Going back to the prince, I have searched, but no one was found. There are signs of trampling on the wall. The subordinates have questioned the people everywhere, and have issued a search warrant in the city, and are urgently looking for people."

Lin Bozhou closed his eyes: "Are you sure you were tied up?"

Zhang Hu thought about it and said, "Eunuch You and the two guard brothers were stunned by drugs. Although there were no traces of fighting around, it is very likely that the master was also stunned. Therefore, the possibility of being **** is very high."

tied up...

Then who would tie him up?

If it is simply asking for money, the kidnappers will be fierce and will inevitably suffer a lot of flesh and blood; if it is for beauty, the situation is obviously more sinister.

...But the worst thing is that if someone has a heart, he knows that Meng Huan is Lin Bozhou's princess and still kidnaps him. Apart from money, if it's purely for revenge and revenge, I'm afraid it's not enough to take off a layer of skin, and maybe his life is in danger...

Lin Bo Zhou's thin wrist protruding from his sleeve was hanging down, and his eyelashes were drooping, "Why is the princess in the teahouse?"

"Eunuch You said that the master wants to wait for the prince to come down at the teahouse and return home together, who would have thought—"

His voice stopped abruptly.

Saying one more thing is a great stimulus to the prince.

Lin Bozhou's whole body seemed to be immersed in cold water, his throat quivered slightly.

He has always been calm and rational, and it was the first time the guard saw such a pale color on his face.

...It turned out to be waiting for myself.

There were bursts of tingling pain in Lin Bozhou's chest, and the tip of his teeth bit out the smell of blood, "In the past few days, all the letters that came to the mansion have been collected, and the letter that found a kidnapper was handed over to the king as soon as possible; The door has stepped up patrols, and any delivery of goods needs to be closely inspected."

He paused and issued a death order.

"There must be no mistake."

Zhang Hu clasped his fists loudly: "Take orders!"

Before his eyes brightened, Meng Huan smelled a heavy dusty smell.

The black veil was untied, and he was in a firewood room with firewood piled up in the corner, a table in front of him, a simple wooden bed next to the window, and a few tattered clothes.

An Chui and a few strong men stood in the room and watched.

An Chui pinched his nose, with a nasty smile on the corner of his lips: "A widower lived here before, and died of drinking poison a few days ago. Let me make a place for you to live in temporarily."

Meng Huan closed his eyes.

He resisted the urge to punch him to death.

Meng Huan's appearance belonged to the handsome and fresh face of a young man. When he was quiet and silent, he looked very gentle and cooperative, and would not arouse their inner rage.

An Chui looked at him again and again, then suddenly grabbed his wrist and put it on the table, "You know how to draw?"

Meng Huan whispered, "Yes."

If you can't beat a vicious bandit violently, you usually choose to cooperate with the other party first, and it is best to save your life. Although Meng Huan was afraid in his heart, he guessed that he should use him and tried his best to cooperate.

An Chui clapped his hands, and a clansman immediately offered a pen and paper. He was sitting at the table, playing with a knife in his hand, throwing it back and forth, as if he would cut off a piece of meat by accident: "Okay, you Now, paint a portrait of me."

"..."

Not sure what he was going to do.

Meng Huan cooperatively took the paper and pen, cut off part of the hair, and began to outline An Chui with delicate brushstrokes. He lowered his head and drew quietly, with a layer of white velvet covering his ears, looking delicate and fragile, like a delicate and fragile porcelain.

An Chui looked at his brushwork, while someone behind him was watching Meng Huan's face and couldn't help but licked his lower lip.

The strange thing is that this group of vicious thugs were very patient and did not urge Meng Huan, but just quietly waited for him to paint.

Waited for maybe an hour.

Meng Huan handed over the paper: "The drawing is finished."

The page is a realistic meticulous painting, the lines are very beautifully controlled, and the painting is very similar to the real person, as if carved out of a mold.

An Chui applauded with satisfaction: "Not bad."

Puzzled, but Meng Huan still sat properly and did not speak.

I was also thinking in my heart, it's impossible for An Chui to ask him to paint, right?

An Chui held the painting, walked out with a smile, "Very good, congratulations, your dinner is settled."

Meng Huan was puzzled: "?"

An Chui has already walked out.

A burly man took out some steamed buns and a pot of water from behind, and threw them in front of Meng Huan, "Kah—" The door slammed shut, and the light and shadow in the firewood room became dark.

The footsteps went further and further away.

Dinner turned out to be these steamed buns.

"Huh..." However, Meng Huan heard his own voice of relief.

The group finally left.

His back was numb and his emotions had been tense. At this time, his shoulders felt slightly sore. Meng Huan took a deep breath, his stomach was already growling, feeling hungry.

Recalling the experience from being drugged to the present, it felt incredible like a hallucination, Meng Huan picked up the hard steamed bun, brought it to his mouth and took a bite—

- Hard.

I can't even bite QAQ.

It is also mixed with crushed stones, eating a mouthful of sand, and piercing the mouth.

Meng Huan's lips couldn't help but twitched, and in the darkness, a circle of red appeared around his eyes.

If Lin Bozhou was here, he would never be **** and eat like a beggar.

Meng Huan tried to take another bite of the steamed bun. The rough texture was not inedible, but the water in the pot softened and he could swallow it, barely satisfying his hunger.

In fact, Meng Huan used to live in an orphanage and didn't eat well, so he didn't care so much about eating and drinking, as long as he was full.

But now, biting the steamed bun and thinking of Lin Bozhou again, I couldn't help feeling a little sore in my heart.

It may be that after someone treats him well, he can no longer stand being wronged.

...If Lin Bozhou finds him, he must behave badly in front of him and make him feel sorry for himself.

At that time, Lin Bozhou will definitely hug him and call him a little baby for a long time.

Thinking of this, Meng Huan's heart seemed to soften a lot, and at the same time, a force became more and more firm.

Meng Huan took another bite of the steamed bun mixed with sand.

He can't do anything else. His desire to survive has always been very strong, and he can put everything on display, but his health must not be put on hold. Eat more. Only when he is full can he persist until Lin Bozhou rescues him.

Meng Huan swallowed the last mouthful of steamed buns with cold water, and walked to the window. This window is so small that normal people cannot climb out. The door was closed and locked with chains.

It is obviously impossible to escape.

Standing by the window, Meng Huan looked out with his head on his feet. This seemed to be the abandoned backyard of a temple. The sound of the bell ringing could be heard far away, but it was far away from the bustling front yard of the temple.

The group of Zhulizhen reckless men were sitting in the dam not far from the firewood house. As it was getting late, they set up a fire to roast some pheasants, singing songs that he didn't understand.

—Calling for help would alarm them, and that may not be the case at all.

Meng Huan spat, disgusted with the stuff he picked up, went back to the bed and sat down.

The bed was dirty.

Filled with the smell of sticky sweat, it seems that this place really is the place where the widower who helped to collect firewood lived, but An Chui said that the widower committed suicide and died on this bed by drinking poison.

"..."

Meng Huan stood up and walked around the dark room.

After a while, he saw a pile of withered straw in the corner, so he spread the grass on the ground, barely separating the dust on the ground, and sat down.

Let's sleep like this first tonight.

He had been tense all afternoon, and he was still in a state of high tension. He heard the drunken yelling of friends and friends outside the door, and finally relaxed, and fell asleep reluctantly.

The room was extremely quiet.

Although Meng Huan fell asleep, his nerves were still very sensitive, and he could catch any movement.

A drunken voice came from outside the door.

"The Han man locked up in the firewood room is very beautiful. I saw it this afternoon. His skin is tender and his flesh is white. He is so beautiful that I want to bite him to death!"

"Let's take a look together?"

Another voice said: "You are crazy, An Chui said that you are not allowed to touch him, if you hurt him, we will all die!"

"An Chui only said he wanted his hands, but he never said he wanted his body." There was a sound of being pushed away, "If you don't dare to touch him, get out, don't bother me."

With a sound of "Boom," the door was kicked open by heavy leather boots.

Meng Huan woke up suddenly, looking at several hideous figures hanging from the door.

After a long distance, the smell of alcohol wafted over, the man scratched his chin and walked this way, his hands had already started to untie his belt: "If you are willing to sleep with me for a night, tomorrow I will give you meat and rice instead of Steamed buns mixed with sand."

Meng Huan's chest jumped wildly, and he stood up, his voice was so loud that he didn't even realize it: "What do you want to do!"

The man had thick wrists and a scimitar hanging from his waist. He reached out and grabbed Meng Huan's wrist, exuding a stench of cattle and sheep.

At that moment, Meng Huan knew his reason for coming, and subconsciously started to defend himself. He stretched out his hand and grabbed the machete beside the man, holding it in his hand: "Get lost!"

The other party didn't care at all: "This kind of knife is not for you, little brother."

At this moment, Meng Huan could only face violent anger without any cowardice.

He yelled in a voice dozens of times louder than before: "Do you think I want to kill you? You are wrong!" He pressed the knife against his wrist, the knife was so sharp that it could easily cut flesh, "If you dare to touch I will cut off this hand!"

When Meng Huan said this, his whole body was trembling with anger, and he could barely analyze from the conversation just now, that An Chui wanted something from him, and wanted his hands that could draw.

That is the only bargaining chip that can threaten the opponent.

Otherwise, if they fall into the hands of these beasts, they will only be treated like livestock and trampled like pigs and dogs!

The man paused, his expression indifferent: "It's ridiculous, I can easily get the knife back before you do it."

Meng Huan gritted his teeth, "So what! I want to die in many ways! There are also many ways to break these hands. If you really want to be decapitated by An Chui, you can go one step further and try!"

In the empty woodshed, Meng Huan stared angrily at the invading aliens. Thinking of the common people whose heads had been beheaded by him for no reason, he clenched his teeth. The anger in his eyes did not match his exquisite appearance. It can really do things that abolish your hands.

Several people paused, and the man with the knife took a step back.

"I hit a hard bone." Someone said.

Some people also said: "Stop playing, An Chui knows, we will really lose our heads."

"Let's go?"

The man stared at Meng Huan, drunkenly stretched out his hand and snatched back the knife in his hand, turned around and walked out the door swaggeringly.

Behind him, Meng Huan was sweating coldly, his throat was trembling, and his voice was a little hoarse.

The voice of speaking, only hate, no fear.

"Mongrel."