Transmigrating into the Prince Regent’s Beloved Runaway Wife

Before his eyes was a neatly bound book with yellowish writing, emitting a faint fragrance of ink, the handwriting on the pages was of the right size, neatly arranged, with vigorous and soft calligraphy, and every stroke on every page was exquisite like a work of art.

Meng Huan shrunk in the study chair where Lin Bozhou usually sat and flipped through the letters he had copied.

His leg injury hadn’t healed, so he wore the inner clothes he slept in and didn’t change. He curled up with his arms and legs in the chair. His ears and neck were white, and his white fingers were poking out, turning page after page of the letters Lin Bozhou had written.

Next to him, You Jin asked, “How many words can you recognize, Master?”

Meng Huan picked at his fingers and seriously calculated, “In the morning, I recognized thirty more.”

You Jin was full of smiles. “The prince will definitely praise Master when he returns.”

Meng Huan: “Hehehe.”

He was bored in the house. Lin Bozhou feared he was sick and stressed about learning words, so Shan Shu did not come. Meng Huan was bored, so he looked up the books and words Lin Bozhou had written and identified them on the pages.

The young man was poised like a cat, the tips of the ears poking out from under the ebony hair were white as if a pinch would make them red, his jaw was pale and slightly pointed, but his lips regained their familiar slightly pink color and were gently pursed.

When Lin Bozhou came in, he happened to see this scene.

He had not yet changed out of his court robes and walked behind Meng Huan, dropping his eyes to look at the words he had written down. You Jin saw him come in, so he retired sensibly.

Meng Huan was writing seriously, not realizing his presence until he felt the shadow beside him and lifted his eyes. “Husband.”

Lin Bozhou hugged him and got up, first looking at the wound on his ankle before sitting down and holding Meng Huan in his arms from behind. “Writing?”

He scanned the table and immediately understood that Meng Huan was looking through the book he had transcribed.

Meng Huan responded, “Husband’s handwriting looks good.”

“Come. Teach Huan Huan how to write.” Lin Bozhou laughed softly, gently held Meng Huan’s hand, grasped it tightly in his palm, picked up the brush, and slowly wrote down the words one by one on the draft paper.

Meng Huan looked down and felt that literacy seemed more interesting, so he concentrated on remembering.

After reviewing all the words learned today, Meng Huan looked at the obviously much neater and better-looking words, shook his head, and said, “I don’t want to learn anymore. I’m tired.”

The heat behind his ears did not recede but came close to his ears, and Lin Bozhou switched to holding his hand. “Huan Huan’s hands are so small.”

“……” Meng Huan’s ears and neck were a little chilly, and he looked at him in a daze. Lin Bozhou leaned down and probed his tongue to lick his fingertips, his gaze dark. He no longer had any pretext or disguise and put Meng Huan’s hand on the sleeve of his scarlet robe.

He had just returned to the house, and the scarlet embroidered robe he wore to court had yet to be changed down. When he wore the court dress, he was extraordinarily serious and ascetic, exuding the seriousness and solemnity of walking between the palace and the corridor hall. Still, the robe sleeve was red, looking very handsome and evil.

Meng Huan liked him best in this outfit, but Lin Bozhou would only wear it when he was at court. Meng Huan was stunned for a moment. His eyebrows suddenly wrinkled, and his hand had already been placed there.

“……”

Lin Bozhou was now waiting with undisguised desire.

His dark eyebrows slowly relaxed, and he leaned back his neck on the pearwood Taishi chair, his tone calm as if discussing an official matter. “An Chui is kept in the Northern Zhen Fu Division and is about to be interrogated. Today, His Majesty also caught Elder Cui in.”

Meng Huan’s palm touched the flesh. He licked his lips, the back of his ears burning, and stammeringly responded, “Is…… that so?”

Lin Bozhou looked lazy. “In a few days, the Sansi* will interrogate Cui Renfang. When the time comes, Huan Huan also has to go to identify. A trip to the Northern Zhenfuji, are you afraid?”

*Sansi: The three national-level officers during Han Dynasty.

His hot breath fell on Meng Huan’s ear, and his fingers were pressed by him. Lin Bozhou’s decent clothes were neatly covered behind the screen, but he caught Meng Huan’s hand between the opened slit.

The temperature slowly climbed, and Meng Huan shook his head. “I’m not afraid.”

He couldn’t resist. He said, “Husband.”

—Lin Bozhou appeared to be decent but was actually very immodest.

Lin Bozhou pinched his cheeks. He was obviously making the intimate space more secretive, but he insisted on letting the evening sunlight shine through the window, brightly shining on Meng Huan’s slightly taut white fingers, illuminating all actions that should not have seen light.

The light made it seem like it was exposed to all eyes, like wandering on the edge of danger.

“Husband?” Meng Huan was embarrassed and confirmed in a small voice.

Lin Bozhou’s fingertips stroked his lips, “Mm, just like that.”

“Woo……”

Meng Huan bit his lips, his long slender eyelashes drooped, and his white fingers that reflected the light continued to touch him.