FRGNM -Chapter 111 The Wicked King

“I’m so pissed off, Luo Mingyu, you bastard!”

With a furious kick, Ling Ruoxi sent a stone flying across the street. Her temper was fraying, and she wanted nothing more than to tear apart the rocks with her bare hands.

What was Luo Mingyu even doing? She had already told him to marry her, and yet he refused! If he wasn’t going to marry her, then why stay by her side? He had the nerve to get her pregnant, but didn’t have the nerve to take responsibility? Now he had the ability to act, but not the guts to admit it?

Throwing the stone down in frustration, Ling Ruoxi snorted and turned back, buying all the remaining flower balls. Seeing men on the street, she threw the balls at them without hesitation.

The bizarre action scared the men so much that they bolted immediately, not daring to provoke a woman who threw flower balls like she meant business.

“If you won’t marry me, then someone else will! Any men here? Come and catch the flower balls, catch them!” She threw the balls with all her pent-up anger, glancing at a black-clad man standing down the street, seemingly deep in thought, not moving.

Ling Ruoxi flung all the flower balls toward him and shouted, “The man up ahead, these are all for you! If you want to marry me, come and get them!”

Swish! In an instant, the man who had been standing there stretched out his hands. The movement was lightning-fast, almost as if dozens of hands had merged into one, and he effortlessly caught all the flower balls in his arms.

“Did you throw these?” A low, hoarse voice asked as the man slowly turned around.

Ling Ruoxi, still fuming, was about to nod when her pupils suddenly contracted in shock.

The man in front of her was dressed entirely in black—and most importantly, his voice, and the half-mask covering his face…

The man Luo Mingyu had called the one in the illusionary realm had actually appeared! Goosebumps erupted across her body. Instinctively, she stepped back. She had no idea what this man intended—she only remembered the previous illusion, where he had appeared.

That had been him inflicting harm in her mind. Under Luo Mingyu’s persuasion, she had learned it was an illusion. She had assumed illusions were just illusions… so why was he appearing here in reality?

To hell with illusions—this is real.

“You’re surprised, aren’t you?” He stepped closer, holding one of the flower balls up to his nose to sniff it lightly. “It’s been a long time. I’ve missed your scent. I hope you don’t mind… shall we do it again?”

“Get the hell out, damn it! Luo Mingyu, come out!” Her hair stood on end, and her legs nearly gave way. She grabbed a nearby pillar and bolted forward.

No matter how fast she ran, the man behind her stayed close, moving as if casually strolling. The lively street had emptied without her noticing; suddenly, it was just the two of them.

One running, one chasing.

“Luo Mingyu, come out!” Gasping, Ling Ruoxi felt like she might pass out. She pressed herself against a pillar, but when she turned, the masked man was right in front of her.

A foolish smile escaped her lips. She reminded herself: it’s an illusion, it’s an illusion—but she fainted anyway.

The cold man simply lifted her soft body effortlessly, walking step by step toward the inn.

“Wicked King, please spare me! I didn’t leak any information, really!”

“Not you, then how would they know my whereabouts? In this world, I despise traitors. Drag them down and execute them.”

His icy voice was like the echo from the netherworld, sending shivers down her spine.

When Ling Ruoxi slowly opened her eyes, she realized she was tied to a bed. She had thought it was a dream, or an illusion—but now, the towering man sat above her, coldly observing.

She quickly closed her eyes, trying to remain calm, listening to him speak.

“Wicked King, this has nothing to do with me, really…”

“Drag them down too.” His hoarse voice cut off any further words.

A maid at the bedside wiped sweat from her forehead and whispered, “Your Majesty, this young lady has been unconscious for an hour. Shall we call a doctor?”

“No need. If she hasn’t woken, leave her be. Out.”

“Yes…”

Soon, the sounds of packing and doors opening and closing filled the room. The place became empty—or rather, one person remained, but Ling Ruoxi could feel no presence.

Where was he? That man? Her long lashes quivered. She didn’t know where she was or why the maid called him the Wicked King. Who was the Wicked King, and why had she never heard of him?

“I know you’re awake. I like spending the night with a beauty, not watching you lie here lifelessly. Get up and serve me.” His hoarse, low voice drew closer, and the icy, blood-scented hand caressed her pale cheek.

Ling Ruoxi felt her muscles freeze, refusing to open her eyes, letting the tiny beads of sweat trickle down her face.

“You probably don’t realize what you’re wearing. Red, very beautiful. Your sweat has soaked it, making it a dark red—most alluring. Do you understand?” His rough hands grazed her bare skin. Ling Ruoxi felt like she was freezing to death.

His hands roamed her arms recklessly. She realized she wore no inner clothes—just ordinary undergarments. Nothing else covered her.

She knew his next move would likely be toward her face. She planned to bite his hand and escape—but she was too slow. His anxious hand instead landed on her thigh.

The unfamiliar touch made her clamp her legs together. She bolted backward on the bed, eyes wide.

“Who are you, and why are you targeting me?! It was you last time too, wasn’t it?!” Her whole body shook, face pale, fists clenched.

The Wicked King glanced at her coldly, his strong arm lifting to grab her chin. “Yes. Last time was me. You weren’t dreaming, and this isn’t an illusion. It’s real, just like now.”

“You’re a bastard! Those people called you the Wicked King. At least you’re a king, yet you feast on other people’s leftovers?!” She kicked his arm hard, struggling against the ropes.

The man on the bed only sneered. “You don’t need to know my hobbies. You only need to serve me. Understand?”

“Understand my ass! Serve you? You’re disgusting! Your tiny thing can satisfy me? Not even a third of Luo Mingyu! Gross, get away!” Ling Ruoxi had completely turned against him, her main goal now just delaying time.

But the knots on her back were too tight to undo quickly.

The Wicked King’s expression darkened slightly, and he stayed silent. Ling Ruoxi froze. Had she finally hit a nerve?

No… Last time it hurt horribly, the raw pain brought tears. Was this man, like Nangong Mo had said, someone with extreme pride?

“Wicked King, they’re here…” someone outside whispered. The man only snorted coldly, lifting her chin. “When we return, see how I deal with you!”

He turned, lips curling slightly into a faint smile—but Ling Ruoxi couldn’t see it.

Using every trick she had learned in rope binding, after the time of an incense stick, she managed to untie her hands, grabbed some clothes, and quickly dressed. Peeking out, she realized she was still in the inn where the Wicked King had stayed.

She kicked the bed, dumped the chamber pot over it, and leapt from the window. If she was caught now, there would be no escape.

Running through the streets, drenched in sweat, she slipped near a corner wall.

The silver-haired figure’s hand caught her wrist. His sharp brows lifted. “What are you doing? Spooked?”

“Your ass! You’re scarier than any ghost!” Seeing him behind her, she wasn’t startled, just tried to keep running—then froze, whirling around. “Luo Mingyu, where the hell have you been?!”

“I… went to drown my sorrows in wine. Bought it but hadn’t even drunk it before seeing you running like a madwoman. What, saw a ghost?” He snorted, tilting his head back, swallowing the wine.

Ling Ruoxi snatched the bottle and took a gulp herself, wiping her face, shaking the bottle. “I saw him, I saw that man!”

“Which man?” Luo Mingyu looked at her, completely puzzled.

She gasped, turning her head to him, and without explanation, punched him hard in the chest. “I was supposed to make you marry me, or I wouldn’t have met him!”

“Met who? Calm down, tell me slowly.” Luo Mingyu caught her in his arms, grabbed the bottle from her hand, and smashed it to the ground.

Shivering all over, Ling Ruoxi clung to him, trembling. “That man… the one called the Wicked King. The same man you mentioned in the illusion before. Just now… just now…”

“You drank too much again. What man? Wicked King? He couldn’t possibly be here.” Luo Mingyu raised an eyebrow. “I heard he’s a rare beauty. Did you actually see him?”