Transmigrating into the Prince Regent’s Beloved Runaway Wife

rbed, Lin Bozhou wouldn’t think much of it.
But from Lin Bozhou’s short period of understanding him, he must have made him furious just now if his ears perked up so intensely.

And looking at himself would only make Meng Huan extremely scared.
Lin Bozhou was angry but couldn’t vent it out loud and could only ask, “Are you happy outside of the residence?”

Meng Huan: “Happy.”

Looking at his expression, he didn’t seem so happy.

When he replied, Meng Huan stopped picking at the tasteless white rice.
He bowed his head and didn’t move his eyes, sitting in a daze.

He looked very submissive to him.

But also very distant.

—This was the feeling that Meng Huan had always given to Lin Bozhou.

Even when smiling sweetly at him, the estrangement in his eyes could not be hidden.

Lin Bozhou gently gritted his teeth and asked softly, “Are you angry at this prince?”

Meng Huan looked up with ripples of surprise under his eyes.
“…… Your Highness—”

“You went out of the house to eat with your friends, but this prince came to look for you and disturbed your conversation, so you are angry?”

Meng Huan shook his head, lowered his eyes, and returned to his blank look.
“Not angry.”

So what if I’m angry?

So what if I’m not angry?

Lin Bozhou could squeeze him to death with just one finger.
It was useless to be angry or not.
Before him, Meng Huan had no emotions of his own.

The atmosphere fell silent again.

For some reason, Lin Bozhou felt irritation in his blood, making him feel a rare gloominess.

Behind him, Xu Ruolin carried the wine and food.
“Your Highness.”

He straightened out Lu Nanxing’s hair and smiled fawningly.
“This is a good wine stored in the restaurant’s cellar for decades, just dug out.
Please enjoy it, Your Highness.”

Lin Bozhou lowered his eyes.
“Put it down.”

Xu Ruolin picked up another cup and gave it to Meng Huan.
“Madam, do you want to try it too?”

Meng Huan took it and drank it down sullenly.

“Does Madam like to drink it?” Xu Ruolin seemed to have some look in his eyes as he picked up another bottle of wine.
“There’s more here.”

In addition to white rice, there was finally something else to beat the embarrassment.
Meng Huan took it and poured it into a cup, sipping it in small sips.
He had the slight intention of using wine to dispel sorrow.

Meng Huan had been a person with a low sense of security, and he now had to guard against being caught by Lin Bozhou with a few simple words; he was constantly in imminent crisis.
An unpredictable and unspeakable sense of panic stirred in his heart.

He was terrified of Lin Bozhou, genuinely terrified.