Transmigrating into the Prince Regent’s Beloved Runaway Wife

Shan Shu relentlessly complained, “Madam is a bit slow in reading and writing and is prone to missing strokes, which are difficult to correct.
He needs to study more diligently to be good.”

“……”

Meng Huan’s head was buried even lower.

He hated Lin Bozhou the most.

But this teacher continued to say he was bad in front of him, making him unable to lift his head.

Damn it!

Meng Huan lowered his head and could hear Lin Bozhou’s low voice, calm and steady.
“Yes, I understand.
Thank you for the hard work, uncle.”

—Even saying you understood.

Do you really think you are my parent?

Meng Huan picked up a brush and kept writing, “Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate” on the page.
He wrote them in large characters, and the page was full after a while.
Thus, Meng Huan found some empty spaces and continued to write, “Annoying, annoying, annoying, most annoying, most annoying….”

The sound of footsteps in the courtyard left, and a shadow fell before him, covering him from the evening’s residual light.

Meng Huan left the last “Annoying” character and raised his head.
Lin Bozhou’s dark brown eyes looked at him, his nose bridge high.
His face approached the shadow, and a few loose threads of black hair hung on his forehead, looking devilishly handsome.

Lin Bozhou bent down and checked his words with a gentle tone.
“Huan Huan was scolded again today?”

“……” Meng Huan really did not want to talk.

Lin Bozhou took a piece of paper and looked at the places where Meng Huan always made mistakes.
After a few moments, he said, “Huan Huan wrote some words decisively and directly like he was sure this is how he should write.
But many times, he still doesn’t correct them even after knowing there’s a mistake— How did Huan Huan use to write?”

Meng Huan slowly glanced at him, expressing his annoyance with him, and said, “Hmm.”

“Correct the habit first.” He sat down beside Meng Huan.

The weather was a bit hot.
He had changed out of his court uniform and casually put on a set of regular clothes, the sleeves wide and dispersing a little warm sandalwood scent that was like the warmth of jade.

Meng Huan continued to slowly draw on the paper, indicating that he was passive, uncooperative, and didn’t want to respond to him.
He stayed that way until he accidentally raised his head and saw the wound on the back of Lin Bozhou’s hand.

It had formed the line of a thin scar.

It was the one he accidentally scratched with his nails yesterday.

Today in the cabinet, the chief minister and cabinet members expressed concern for Lin Bozhou.
When he met the child emperor in the court, the child emperor almost spilled tears in the throne room, pulling him to find an imperial physician to cure his hand.
It was so noisy that every court councilor knew about it.

Of all the people seeing the small wound on his hand, only Meng Huan acted as if nothing had happened, like he didn’t care at all.

Although, this was indeed a very small wound.

“Huan Huan, take a paper and brush.
This husband will teach you to write it again,” Lin Bozhou said.

…… It was quite similar to the feeling of a top student husband tutoring his underachiever wife.
After the inexplicable association, Meng Huan hesitated in his heart and looked at his wound, flattening the paper on the table.

Writing one word at a time, Lin Bozhou’s handwriting was beautiful and natural, without embellishment.
His calligraphy was vigorous but soft and could be framed as an art piece.

However, after years of writing, his fingers had some calluses, making his hands not so beautiful, and he could imagine the roughness he felt when he touched them.

“……” Suddenly, he remembered the bizarre touch and association during his bath last night.

The long fingers pinched the slender waist, wandering, and the layer of thin calluses would also relentlessly rub over every place.
Although Meng Huan was unconscious then and couldn’t remember the exact situation, the fingers left a deep memory on his skin without permission.

“……”

Meng Huan’s face was hot.
He lowered his head and clenched the brush in his hand.

In the original book he read, it was said Lin Bozhou was fierce in bed, but when he was decently dressed in court clothes or regular clothes, he looked righteous and noble, possessing a dignified and benevolent character.
It was unimaginable that he would also have desires and be like those in the spring paintings, making repeated indecent postures to reach the tidal wave he wanted inside.

…… He could hardly imagine that this person actually slept with himself.

“Huan Huan?”

Lin Bozhou wanted to remind him to move his brush, looking sideways, but he saw Meng Huan’s head almost buried under the table.
The back of his ears was red, and his white arm poking out of his sleeve rested on the edge of the table, looking like he couldn’t face the hardships of life.

Hearing his voice, Meng Huan lifted his head.

His fair little face stiffened, opening his mouth as if blocking out something, and he returned to his senses.
“Write!”

Lin Bozhou curved his lips into an extremely faint arc.

Although he didn’t know what Meng Huan was thinking, he was very cute.

Meng Huan wasn’t a grumpy person who would make a scene to let the world know he was angry.

But he was very small-minded and vindictive.
He would be very gentle and harmless but silently remembered it for a decade, thinking it over occasionally.

Meng Huan was unhappy with Lin Bozhou sleeping with himself, but he didn’t directly smash the brush and oppose Lin Bozhou when he wanted to teach him to write.
Instead, he cooperated and picked up the brush, not listening to him and working slowly.
Even if he listened to him, he wouldn’t answer him.

“Huan Huan, ‘broom’ is written wrong.
There is only one cross in the middle.” Lin Bozhou reminded.

Meng Huan pursed his lips and slowly let out an “Oh,” holding the brush, and shaking it twice.
 He seemed to be scribbling and revising but was actually playing Tai Chi.

— He had a problem with Lin Bozhou and wanted to express it tactfully.

Lin Bozhou laughed lowly in his ears.

It fell into his ears with an airy tone.

Meng Huan mentally said: Hmph, you’re still laughing out loud.

“‘Cauldron’ is also wrong.” Lin Bozhou said, “Write it again.”

“Okay.”

Meng Huan expressionlessly wrote the wrong word again.

I’m wasting your time.
I won’t make it easy for you…… Meng Huan made a scheme in his mind.
If Lin Bozhou knew that helping him learn to read and write was tiring, he wouldn’t come to bother him.

Meng Huan happily wrote the wrong words.

Behind his ears, Lin Bozhou seemed to laugh again, seemingly an extremely patient laugh.

“How come you can still do it before but can’t now?” He asked softly.

Meng Huan randomly said, “I got them mixed up.”

“Mixed them up?” Lin Bozhou’s implication was unclear.

Meng Huan ignored him, holding the brush and deliberately making the “hat” stroke off again.
As he was about to write, his wrist was suddenly gently caught.

Lin Bozhou’s cool hand covered his, holding his fingers tightly, and entirely restrained his fair and slender fingers inch by inch, controlling him.

Then, stroke by stroke, he led the word back in the right direction with his hand and said, “Don’t deliberately write it wrong again, Huan Huan.”

“……” Meng Huan raised his head and looked at him.

Lin Bozhou’s eyebrows were tinged with shadows as he laughed.
“If you drag it on for too long, you won’t be able to finish your writing practice and sleep in early at night.”

Meng Huan: “……”

What does it have to do with you?

You still get up at 2:00 am every day to go to court.

What’s wrong with me staying up late to do homework?

While he secretly cursed him in his heart, Lin Bozhou had already shifted his eyes and said, “Put it away.
No more practice today.
Let’s have dinner first.”

The servants went forward and put away the brushes, ink, paper, and ink stone.

Another group came in one after another with meals and put them on the table, still with the specifications of thirty courses.

A bottle of wine was placed on the table.
When Lin Bozhou saw it, he raised his eyebrows thoughtfully and turned to Meng Huan.
“Huan Huan.”

Meng Huan looked at him.
“Mm?”

Lin Bozhou’s eyebrows tinged with shadows, and his tone was calm.

“When we drank wine at that restaurant that day, and Huan Huan hastily poured out that cup of wine meant for this husband, what was in it?”