FRGNM -Chapter 57 The Beauty Drunk

“I heard there’s an ugly woman in Beining. The Crown Prince voluntarily annulled the engagement—could it be the person in the Young Master’s arms?” Huangfu Yuan sneered, raising his wine cup.

The words “ugly woman” immediately darkened Luo Mingyu’s expression.

Nangong Mo slammed the table and stood. “What nonsense are you saying? Ruoxi—she…”

“Looks like even the Crown Prince likes this woman,” Huangfu Yuan said coldly.

The atmosphere instantly became awkward. Ling Huiru quickly stood, bowed, and smiled. “Please calm yourselves, gentlemen. Next, let Huiru perform a dance.”

“Yes, yes, Huiru, you dance. This child dances beautifully,” Nangong Qin quickly smoothed things over, silently cursing Huangfu Yuan. This prince from Dongling had no idea how reckless he was, even daring to provoke the Young Master of Qiongyu Island!

Standing in the center of the stage, Ling Huiru smiled faintly. Her gaze fell on Nangong Mo. She raised her hands, letting her water sleeves flutter as her graceful figure moved across the stage.

A gentle, elegant dance unfolded. Her soft, boneless waist twisted like an enchanting spirit. Every movement, accompanied by a faint smile, captivated the onlookers, like a butterfly landing on one flower and then another—beautiful beyond words.

Ling Ruoxi, drinking her tea, found it unbearable. She hated watching dances like this. On Earth, seeing something like this occasionally could be pleasant, but Huiru’s performance lacked charm, grace, and aura—just an empty shell.

To outsiders, the dance might seem impressive, but to a connoisseur, it was mediocre at best.

“Ah-choo!” Ling Ruoxi sneezed, wiping her nose, and grabbed a nearby cup, drinking directly from it.

The taste was strange—not tea.

A flush rose on her fair cheeks. She smiled faintly, her phoenix-like eyes tilting as she rested her head on Luo Mingyu’s shoulder, one hand against her temple.

Her half-lidded, lazy gaze swept across the stage. “Hey, Luo Mingyu, you like women like this?”

“Hm?” Luo Mingyu raised an eyebrow, smelling the alcohol on her breath. Knowing she couldn’t touch alcohol, he smiled softly. “Yes… I like it. Who wouldn’t like a woman like that? Charming and enticing, catching a man’s interest.”

“Nonsense! What the hell is charming and enticing? At most, she’s like a wild hen. Ugly as sin. No figure, no face!” Ling Ruoxi jumped up and, in front of everyone, smashed the cup to the floor.

Ling Huiru froze, her face ashen, and stopped dancing, staring at Ling Ruoxi.

The slightly drunk Ling Ruoxi staggered onto the stage. Her eyes, intoxicated and fierce, even frightened Ling Huiru.

“Step down,” she said coldly, touching her neck.

Ling Huiru dared not argue and quickly stepped down. Sitting again, she shivered—why was she listening to this woman? She had been the one performing!

Everyone was puzzled when Ling Ruoxi suddenly tore off her headpiece and casually tossed it aside. She unfastened her waist sash and threw it to the floor, then yanked her clothing off, leaving only her bra and shorts.

Luo Mingyu almost crushed the cup in his hand. His gaze practically devoured her—she had boldly undressed in front of everyone!

Huangfu Yuan, however, scoffed. “So this is the type the Young Master likes. Now I’ve seen everything.”

“Shut up! You look like bacon—you have no right to speak!” Ling Ruoxi hiccupped, patting her chest.

“You’re drunk!” Luo Mingyu’s face darkened.

But Ling Ruoxi ignored him, tossing her hair back, lifting her veil, and letting it fall. In the breeze, the drunk beauty seemed like a celestial fairy from the heavens. Her face was more stunning than six years ago; a single glance made hearts race.

Her seductive eyes captivated everyone, pulling at their souls. Huangfu Xuan had never seen Ruoxi like this; his pupils shrank, and he instinctively gripped his wine cup.

Huangfu Yuan’s face also changed dramatically. He had assumed Ling Ruoxi was ugly and humiliated by the Crown Prince—but now, the woman he had mocked was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Ha…” Ling Ruoxi’s soft laughter echoed as she casually tossed her hair, twirling and moving, pressing her hands to her chest. Her seductive gaze swept over the crowd, her body swaying, legs extending, arms brushing her form. Her lips parted slightly, her tongue teasing, and her delicate feet danced across the stage, crouching, spinning, leaping.

The dance was a mix of modern street and pole dance. For modern eyes, it was normal, but here, it combined countless charms into one form.

She was naturally beautiful, and every teasing motion made hearts race. Luo Mingyu’s eyes darkened; veins popped on his forehead as he strode to the stage.

He flung his silver-white coat over her. “Stop dancing!” This damn woman didn’t realize every man nearby wanted to devour her!

Where did she learn such a provocative dance? Children might dance like this, but a grown woman—she should know modesty!

“I want…” her soft, languid voice sounded, sweat sliding down her cheeks as her body twisted against him. Luo Mingyu cursed silently and hugged her tightly.

“Uncomfortable… pressing me hurts,” Ling Ruoxi murmured, her soft hands touching his hard chest. Luo Mingyu grunted, holding her closer.

Fortunately, Luo Mingyu’s position shielded her from view, so no one else could see.

Veins bulging on his forehead, Luo Mingyu nearly went mad. He pressed her to his chest and said calmly, “Your Majesty Nangong, Ruoxi is drunk. I’ll take her away first.”

“Good, Young Master…” Nangong Qin, still in shock, nodded quickly.

Purple Dou Qi swirled, and the two on stage disappeared. Nangong Qin wiped sweat from his brow, astonished—under that veil, Ling Ruoxi was breathtaking. She had been called ugly, yet now…

Even Huangfu Yuan was stunned, sensing a shift in himself. He hadn’t expected the woman he mocked to be so beautiful. Clutching his wine cup, he said, “Your Majesty, if there’s nothing more, I’ll retire for now.”

“Good…” Nangong Qin could barely wait for him to leave.

With Huangfu Yuan gone, Huangfu Xuan naturally left as well. Nangong Mo looked at the familiar stage, sighing helplessly.

Ling Huiru clenched her fists. Wait, one day, I’ll make you wish you were dead!

Back in the room, the woman who couldn’t touch alcohol collapsed on the bed. Soft and pliant, she grabbed a nearby teapot and poured it into her mouth. The taste was wrong, and she spat it out.

Luo Mingyu’s face darkened. He tore off the coat covering her and stared at her enchanting body. This damn woman had danced so provocatively in front of everyone!

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she slurred, wine-scented breath, her phoenix-like eyes half-lidded, leaning like a kitten against him, her small hands teasing his chest.

“Why is your chest so hard? It hurts pressing against me. And your… thing, can it stop standing all the time? Luo Mingyu, you’re like a stallion.”

She laughed softly, her daring hands on him, sending shivers through his body. Luo Mingyu stiffened, staring at her in shock—she actually…

“I should let Yizhui cut off your little thing and feed it to the dogs…” She pushed him away, flopping onto the bed, flushed. Her tiny pants barely covered her, the fabric failing to contain her high peaks, almost bursting free.