MTL - Transmigrating into the Prince Regent’s Beloved Runaway Wife-Chapter 95

The steamed buns are bitter and coarse, and when you bite into your mouth, it feels like you are chewing sand. It is cold and hard, rubbing against the soft mucous membrane in your mouth.

And the lips that were close to him were soft, and he took the thing into his mouth, blocked his lips, kissed him softly, and waited for Lin Bozhou to swallow it.

"cough…"

After Lin Bozhou swallowed the food, he took a breath, and his dark eyebrows were habitually frowned.

"If you don't eat steamed buns, it's probably because you haven't gotten used to it. After two bites, you'll get used to it." Meng Huan looked at him and said seriously, "You must eat it. I don't know how long it will take to escape. There should be no problems with your body."

After feeding, Meng Huan looked at his face, trying to see if Lin Bozhou's resistance was still strong.

Unexpectedly, the expected adaptation did not appear.

Lin Bozhou lowered his eyes in silence, his lips were pulled boringly, he stopped talking, let go of Meng Huan's hand, and turned his face to the other side.

…Angry?

Meng Huan was a little surprised.

It seemed that it was the first time Lin Bozhou got angry with him.

"Angry?" Meng Huan looked him in the eyes, "Because you don't like steamed buns, do I have to feed them to you?"

In my impression, Lin Bozhou is a ruthless character who can hold his breath and hide his emotions and anger, similar to a cold-blooded psychopath. In order to achieve his goal, he can control his emotions about to be expressed freely. Few people can know his true inner thoughts.

— But now, he is angry with himself because of a steamed bun! ?

"..."

Lin Bozhou closed his lips tightly, refusing to speak.

"I'm really angry." After confirming this fact, Meng Huan circled around him twice with difficulty.

After Lin Bozhou's eye disease relapsed, he could not be judged by his usual behavior. He would be more moody, gloomy, sensitive and vulnerable, and tended to hurt others. Maybe even a small move by himself would hurt him.

Meng Huan had no choice but to lean down, and said seriously: "I didn't force you to eat on purpose, but for the sake of your health, even if you are angry, I will still feed you."

Lin Bozhou remained silent.

Meng Huan took a bite of the steamed bun and said, "Open your mouth."

Lin Bozhou straightened his back immediately, and when Meng Huan approached, he pushed Meng Huan's hand away instead, his eyelashes trembling slightly, and turned his face away, as if he was very resistant.

But his strength could easily suppress Meng Huan, but he didn't use it at all. Meng Huan held his face and pushed the steamed bun into his teeth, forcing him to roll it on the tip of his tongue and couldn't push it away.

Meng Huan didn't use any force, seeing that Lin Bozhou was not cooperating, he kissed him on the lips.

The sticky dough reached the mouth, filled with a cold and hard bitter taste.

...why?

Lin Bozhou had a voice in his heart.

Why do you have to eat?

The back of his hand was bony and he gritted his teeth, but the tip of Meng Huan's tongue was soft, and when it was pressed against him, it seemed that he could bite blood beads with a light tap. Lin Bozhou opened his teeth and endured Meng Huan's pushing.

The tip of his tongue withdrew, seeing his reaction, Meng Huan muttered softly: "Don't spit it out, swallow it."

With the dough in his mouth, Lin Bozhou frowned tightly, as if he was pressed by a heavy force, which made his eyebrows twitch violently, unable to resist at all, his throat rolled, and his eyebrows and eyes were painful when he swallowed.

—Meng Huan didn't use any force to force him.

But with a single word, Lin Bozhou had no choice but to carry it out, even against his will.

It's hard to say exactly how much Meng Huan can control him.

"Isn't this good? Finish eating obediently, and we won't be embarrassed." Meng Huan fed him a few more sips of water and put away the water bottle. "Rest for a while and go on the road. It's very close to Jizhou. They should be able to ride horses soon." Follow us and keep going."

Lin Bozhou closed his eyes heavily and did not speak. He was sweating profusely on his forehead, his face was pale, his lips were red from being bitten, and the skirts around his ears and neck were also slightly loosened, as if he had just experienced some inappropriate ravages.

He gasped.

Like being violated, like not.

This look made Meng Huan's throat dry.

"..."

He rubbed his hot face and was in a daze. He didn't expect that he would still be in the mood to admire his husband at this moment. Hastily tore out a two-finger-wide cloth tape: "Husband, can you blindfold me?"

I didn't dare to be fooled all the way before, for fear that people would find out that my eyesight was bad. But Lin Bozhou's eyes can't stand the wind, and he's afraid of light. If the wind blows, the problem will be serious.

"Okay." Lin Bozhou's voice was hoarse.

The gray and black cloth covered the strong wind, and Meng Huan took his hand and started on the journey again.

These places are very strange, and officers and soldiers pass behind them from time to time, flying horses are fast, every time they see Meng Huan, they have to quickly remove the cloth covering Lin Bozhou's eyes, lest people find that he is blind.

A ruined temple appeared ahead.

Meng Huan couldn't move anymore: "Go in and have a rest, hide from the snow."

It turned out to be an abandoned fox fairy temple. In the empty temple, there was only the fox fairy enshrined in the front hall, grinning ferociously and weirdly, and the dusty crevices were covered with cobwebs.

Meng Huan's foot hurt terribly, he helped Lin Bozhou in, and after sitting down against the incense cabinet, he also sat down on his own buttocks.

It's great to have a shelter from the wind and rain.

Meng Huan understood what it was like for a big family to support each other to survive.

He took out the water bag, shook it, resisted the weakness all over his body, and handed it to Lin Bozhou's lips: "Husband, drink water."

Lin Bozhou: "Did you drink?"

"Water is everywhere." Meng Huan pressed his lips against his moist mouth, "Drink, I'll pop some crushed ice and put it in after drinking."

The temperature was too low, and the contents of the water bag were about to freeze. Meng Huan covered it with his body temperature in his arms, so as not to be unable to drink when he was thirsty.

Marching was bitter, but Meng Huan felt it for a day, and felt that fleeing was even more painful than marching.

Taking advantage of Lin Bozhou to drink water, Meng Huan stood up and walked around the temple. After opening the firewood gate, he found some firewood and the remaining fire pockets, carried them to the front yard, and lit the fire.

Lin Bozhou seemed to want to help, but he stood up and slammed his knee on the cabinet next to him with a loud bang that Meng Huan could hear even through the door

He ran out in a hurry, only to see Lin Bozhou standing with his head bowed, no pain on his face, his handsome brows and eyes slightly frowned.

"Bumped into something?"

Meng Huan unbuttoned his trousers and took a look under the light of the fire. His knees were blue and red, covering a wide area. He didn't know how hard the knock was. After all, hitting a bone would be very painful.

The sympathetic phantom pain came up, and Meng Huan's back felt slightly cold, and he stared blankly: "Is it very painful?"

Lin Bozhou: "It doesn't hurt."

"Is it really not painful? The swelling is so severe."

Meng Huan squatted down and gently touched his affected area with his fingertips.

Lin Bozhou grabbed his shoulder, seeming to resist: "It's okay, it will be fine soon."

"How fast is it?" Meng Huan had a good temper, so he rarely raised his face and asked him.

Lin Bozhou pursed his lips and fell silent.

The journey of fleeing was poor and had nothing, but any accidents would just add trouble, making Meng Huan even harder and more troublesome, making him look like a worthless cripple.

He really didn't want to make Meng Huan work harder.

The young man leaned against his legs like a small mushroom, Lin Bozhou touched his earlobe when he stretched out his hand, it was soft and cold, and he squeezed it lightly: "It will be better tomorrow morning."

Meng Huan: "I don't believe it."

He refuted Lin Bozhou again.

After refuting, Meng Huan thought about how to get rid of the bruises on his knees. After thinking for a while, he put his finger in his mouth to moisten it, and then applied it to his wound: "When I was young, my legs were swollen. Adults rubbed them with saliva. I don't know. Is it useful, I will give you a try."

Lin Bozhou was stunned, and pressed Meng Huan's shoulder: "It's not necessary."

"Let me try."

Meng Huan focused on the bruise.

He first dipped his saliva into his fingertips to paint, but felt that the paint was too slow, so he lay down on his knees and bent down on his waist.

Sensing his movement, Lin Bozhou unintentionally stepped back, brushing his fingers chaotically over his earlobe, his muscles tensed.

"Huanhuan, don't do this."

"Yes." Meng Huan said.

Lin Bozhou grabbed his shoulder even tighter, and pinched him deeply, until his bones ached.

"Huanhuan..."

Meng Huan knew what he was thinking.

Even in the bed, Lin Bozhou never pushed Meng Huan around. He was good at controlling the situation and making Meng Huan happy. Originally, according to the traditional habit, he could let Meng Huan kneel and serve him at will, but he never did that.

This action seemed to make Meng Huan too small, and the more so, the more pain and self-blame Lin Bozhou felt in his heart.

He wanted to support Meng Huan, not make him condescend.

Lin Bozhou's fingers trembled, and his voice broke: "Okay, get up, don't do it anymore."

"I want it." Meng Huan's tone was also a bit stubborn.

When she approached and touched his skin, Meng Huan paused.

Then, he licked the wound with the soft tip of his tongue very lightly, like the itching of a feather brushing, and the tingling sensation immediately hit his mind.

Lin Bozhou's fingers trembled slightly.

There was a very light sound of water floating in the cold air.

The knees were bent, and the red and bruised wound was covered with a layer of moist water.

Lin Bozhou was breathing heavily, and the hoarseness in his words seemed to have reached the end of self-ashamedness: "Huanhuan..."

"Okay, okay, it's done, let me see how to knead it." Meng Huan quickly sat up straight, put his fingers on his knee and pressed gently.

He was also afraid that rubbing the wound directly would hurt Lin Bozhou, so he lowered his head to examine the wound carefully.

However, a shadow suddenly fell in front of him, and when his eyes were plunged into darkness, his shoulders sank, Lin Bozhou's whole body was pressed to his shoulders, and his arms hugged him tightly, as if he was afraid that Meng Huan would disappear on the spot.

"What's wrong, my husband?"

Meng Huan touched his back.

Lin Bozhou just hugged him, resting his head on his neck, the chill in his hair rubbed against his ear, becoming warm.

He hugged him tightly and firmly. Meng Huan was originally cold, but warmth began to flow back into his body.

Lin Bozhou seemed to be very dependent on him and wanted to hug him very much.

After realizing this, Meng Huan touched his back again: "Yeah, then you hug me, and I'll rub your wound, it won't hurt."

He lowered his head, gently pressed the wound on his knee, and rubbed it with his fingertips.

The sky is freezing, the snow is falling, and the darkness of sunset is gradually approaching.

In the entire deserted and dilapidated mountain temple, two figures under the Fox Immortal seat hugged each other, blocking the wind and snow from the thick wooden door, and the flames ignited a dim warmth.

Meng Huan touched Lin Bozhou's earlobe and pressed it against his forehead. Feeling sleepy, he said vaguely, "Go to sleep."

Lin Bozhou rubbed his face.

When Meng Huan fell asleep, Lin Bozhou groped lightly and found his right hand. Meng Huan held him with his left hand all the way.

Lin Bozhou's fingers suddenly paused.

The fingers of Meng Huan's right hand were thicker than usual, chapped, and swollen. It turned out that Meng Huan couldn't stand the severe cold during his stay in Jizhou, and frostbitten his hands and face.

Lin Bozhou continued to stroke down, his throat couldn't help trembling.