The Entire Harem has Transmigrated - Chapter 31

Ruan Qingqing only wanted to confirm whether Jiang Li was indeed the Imperial Preceptor in this lifetime.

After tearing open Jiang Li’s collar and finding no clues, she leaned over, pressing her cheek against Jiang Li’s chest.

Jiang Li’s breath hitched. Unable to move, she could only protest, “Miss Ruan, please show some restraint.”

Ruan Qingqing retorted fiercely, “Don’t speak!”

Jiang Li blinked in confusion.

Amused, Jiang Li was about to reply when the warm, soft sensation against her chest abruptly silenced her.

The girl had pressed her delicate cheek against Jiang Li’s heart, her ear nestled tightly against her skin. Instantly, a faint, tingling current surged from their point of contact, tracing along Jiang Li’s heart meridian, then flowing down her spine. It wasn’t painful, but it evoked layers of ticklish sensations.

Jiang Li’s breathing quickened.

Ruan Qingqing, however, remained with her eyes closed, quietly listening to Jiang Li’s heartbeat.

Long ago, on sleepless nights, she had often lain like this against Jiang Li’s chest.

Back then, Jiang Li would stroke her head and ask in her usual detached tone, “Is Your Majesty still awake?”

Her voice remained devoid of warmth, yet the hands that smoothed her tangled hair held a tenderness all their own.

“I’m about to sleep,” Ruan Qingqing murmured, nuzzling her face against Jiang Li’s shoulder, her expression growing increasingly languid and drowsy.

“Then sleep,” Jiang Li replied.

“Imperial Preceptor,” Ruan Qingqing said, her eyes still closed, her voice slurring, “why is your heart beating so fast?”

Jiang Li’s movements paused slightly. “Since I’m alive, it’s natural for my heart to beat,” she said calmly.

Ruan Qingqing waved a finger vaguely, her words muddled with sleepiness. “No, Imperial Preceptor. Your heart is beating much faster than normal.”

Yet, the rhythm of Jiang Li’s heart now was no different from how it had been years ago.

Thump-thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

The air was so still you could hear a pin drop, allowing Jiang Li to clearly hear her own racing heartbeat.

An ambiguous tension filled the pitch-black night. Jiang Li couldn’t discern her own thoughts or desires. It was only after a long silence that she spoke in a hoarse voice, “Miss Ruan?”

Ruan Qingqing didn’t respond.

“Can you… get up now?”

Still no reaction.

Only when her heartbeat had completely calmed did Jiang Li hear Ruan Qingqing’s steady breathing, punctuated by soft, gentle snores—clearly sound asleep.

Jiang Li: “……”

Well, this is just great.

Jiang Li tried to get up and move Ruan Qingqing to the side, but her body remained as if bound, completely immobile. She attempted to call for help, but instead of coming to her aid, the person outside clicked the door shut, locking her in.

Jiang Li: “…………”

Fine, I’ll just sleep like this.

In her dream:

Yun Fuyao, jade-hued and majestic, her white hair reaching towards the azure sky.

Before a rustic bamboo hut nestled amidst endless snow-covered peaks, Ruan Qingqing extended her hand from under the eaves, catching a few pristine white snowflakes.

“Winter has come again,” she murmured softly.

The biting wind whipped through her long hair, the once raven-black strands now as pale as the snow itself.

Though not yet thirty, she had already gone gray.

Jiang Li’s heart ached at the sight. She draped a cloak over Ruan Qingqing’s shoulders and wrapped her arms around her frail body from behind.

“You used to love snowy days,” Jiang Li whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. “After every heavy snowfall, you’d drag me out to the plum garden to build a round, chubby snowman.” She asked cautiously, “Qingqing, do you still want to build a snowman?”

“I don’t want to,” Ruan Qingqing said, a faint smile curving her lips as she gazed into the distance. “A’Li, I’m not a child anymore.”

“Yes, my Qingqing has grown up,” Jiang Li replied, turning to take her hand and gently stroking her cheek, unable to hide the heartbreak in her voice. “But if I could, I would wish you never had to grow up at all.”

Ruan Qingqing’s smile faded, and she said nothing.

Her gaze drifted past the snow-capped mountains, settling on some distant, unknown place. Those apricot-shaped eyes, once so innocent and clear, were now filled with sorrow and weariness.

Jiang Li felt she was about to cry, yet she knew deep down that the Ruan Qingqing before her could no longer shed tears.

“Qingqing…”

Jiang Li reached to pull her into an embrace, but the white-haired beauty pressed a slender finger against her chest, smiled sweetly, and asked, “Want to come?”

No further words were needed. They fell into each other’s arms, moving from outside to inside. Their clothes slipped off without conscious effort, while the ever-burning bonfire blazed even more fiercely, its flames entwined like lovers.

Night fell.

A long night was coming, and some were destined to remain sleepless.

Just then, a piercing howl suddenly rose from the desolate snow-covered mountains. Dark clouds surged overhead, their shadows gradually encroaching. Sensing something amiss, Ruan Qingqing rose, gathered her robes, and frowned as she suppressed the black mist rising from her left arm. She drew her sword and stepped outside.

“Qingqing!” Jiang Li called after her.

Ruan Qingqing pressed her lips into a thin line, waved her hand to seal the door, and said, “Don’t come out. Wait for me.”

The sword in her hand was named Nine Heavens. Years ago, when Li Qianxuan was still alive, Ruan Qingqing had commissioned skilled artisans to forge it from the world’s most durable Mystic Iron.

Yet when Li Qianxuan went to war, she never mentioned the sword, claiming she couldn’t bear to part with it. In the end, Ruan Qingqing had brought it back into the light, letting it drink countless lives, vowing it would not return to its sheath until it had tasted bl00d.

Demons and monsters swarmed toward her, but Ruan Qingqing’s sword fell swiftly, effortlessly slaying them.

It was a one-sided slaughter.

As the shadows and dark clouds gradually dispersed, moonlight illuminated the bloodlust in Ruan Qingqing’s eyes. The demonic creatures scattered in disarray, leaving only a deep, resonant voice echoing through the snow-covered mountains: “My lord, please reclaim your rightful place.”

“My lord, please reclaim your rightful place!”

Jiang Li struck down the final lingering shadow and pulled Ruan Qingqing into her arms.

The white-haired woman knelt on the snow, clutching Jiang Li’s robes.

Tears finally streamed down her face as she whispered, her voice trembling, “A’Li, kiss me…”

“Please… kiss me…”

Jiang Li cupped the back of her neck and pressed her lips against those cold, snow-like lips.

When Ruan Qingqing woke up again, her eyes felt sore.

She seemed to have had a dream, but she couldn’t remember what had happened in it. All she could recall was an overwhelming sense of sadness.

“How strange.”

Jiang Li was still asleep, pinned beneath her. Ruan Qingqing blushed as she took in their position, quickly getting up to straighten her disheveled clothes.

Did I really fall asleep yesterday?

No way, no way!

I just fell asleep and forgot about the important stuff?

Frustrated with herself, Ruan Qingqing hastily re-established the formation and cast a spell to examine Jiang Li. The investigation immediately revealed something amiss.

“How could this be?”

Jiang Li woke up at that moment. Seeing Ruan Qingqing still fussing over her, she couldn’t resist grabbing the girl’s wrist.

Ruan Qingqing, completely focused on her task, lost her balance from the sudden pull and tumbled onto Jiang Li.

“Mmm…”

Feeling the sensation on her lips, Ruan Qingqing’s eyes widened in shock.

What is Jiang Li doing?

She scrambled up, her face burning crimson. Jiang Li paused for a moment before lifting a fingertip to her lips and saying, “You can’t blame me for this.”

Ruan Qingqing slapped her.

It didn’t hurt at all; it felt more like a kitten playfully batting at water—soft, ticklish, and utterly distracting.

Jiang Li moved her lips to speak, but before she could say anything, Ruan Qingqing had already darted away.

After calming herself down alone for a while, Ruan Qingqing sought out Jiang Minhui and asked, “Do you know that Jiang Li’s soul and spirit are each missing a fragment?”

Jiang Minhui was naturally unaware of this.

But she did know one thing: “If her soul and spirit were incomplete, her behavior would surely differ from ordinary people. Yet Xiao Li has always been perfectly normal since childhood. How could she be missing parts of her soul and spirit?”

Ruan Qingqing shook her head. “I don’t know the exact cause yet, but my judgment is never wrong.”

Using her own bl00d as a catalyst, she crafted a potent protective talisman for Jiang Li and instructed her to wear it close to her body.

The moment Jiang Minhui picked up the talisman, she sensed the vast, majestic spiritual energy within it. Without hesitation, she immediately called Jiang Li downstairs.

But Jiang Li refused.

“To be honest, I don’t really believe in these things,” Jiang Li said coldly. “Besides, I think we’ve been getting too involved lately. We should maintain some distance and cool off.”

Jiang Minhui: “???”

Ruan Qingqing chuckled softly. With a flick of her fingertip, she conjured a flame and burned the talisman into a transparent droplet containing a crimson core. Then, standing on tiptoe, she pinched Jiang Li’s chin and forcibly fed her the droplet.

Ruan Qingqing turned to Jiang Minhui and said, “Grandma Jiang, rest assured. Swallowing it will be even more effective than wearing it.”

Jiang Minhui thanked her profusely, but Jiang Li, standing nearby with a furrowed brow and a peculiar expression, asked, “Miss Ruan, are you performing magic tricks? Is that thing really edible?”

“Jiang Li!” Jiang Minhui slammed her cane angrily. “Are you an idiot? How could you possibly be my granddaughter?”

Jiang Li fell silent.

Ruan Qingqing, however, asked to speak with Jiang Li alone and led her to the adjacent room.

Ruan Qingqing scrutinized Jiang Li with an unsettling gaze. It was impossible to decipher the emotions swirling within those eyes, but Jiang Li felt inexplicably uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

“Can you stop staring?” Jiang Li demanded bluntly.

“Now I understand why you’re so different from her,” Ruan Qingqing said, her eyes curving into a smile, her voice brimming with amusement. “It’s because you’re incomplete.”

Jiang Li looked utterly bewildered. “What?”

Ruan Qingqing stepped closer, tugged at Jiang Li’s collar, and forced her to bend down until their faces were nearly touching. Then, with a mischievous grin, she whispered, “You don’t need to understand. Just take good care of your current body while I find the rest of you.”

When that time came, her Imperial Preceptor would finally return.

After breakfast at the Jiang Family, Ruan Qingqing set up an array and cast a spell to trace Jiang Li’s remaining soul fragment using a tracking technique. Unfortunately, despite exhausting all her methods, she couldn’t pinpoint the fragment’s location. Instead, she shifted her approach and deduced a method to break the deadlock.

The north? Z City?

Do I need to go there?

Having obtained the result, Ruan Qingqing prepared to leave. Before departing, she smiled at Jiang Li and said softly, “Jiang Li, you must take good care of yourself.”

Jiang Li listened with a mixture of understanding and confusion, her expression complex.

Upon returning, Ruan Qingqing found Fu Yeqiu still there. Seeing her approach, the woman’s phoenix eyes curved into a gentle smile as she asked, “Have you changed your mind?”

“Changed my mind about what?” Ruan Qingqing asked.

Fu Yeqiu’s gaze dimmed slightly, her voice softening. “About coming with me?”

“You mean to Z City?” Ruan Qingqing asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Fu Yeqiu replied.

Ruan Qingqing shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t. I promised to perform a ritual for two little ghosts, and I still need to check on Bai Xiulian. I can’t leave today—it’ll have to be tomorrow.”

Ruan Qingqing told Fu Yeqiu to go back first, but Fu Yeqiu, hearing her words, smiled and said, “Then I’ve changed my mind.”

“Huh?” Ruan Qingqing asked.

“I’ll leave tomorrow too.” Fu Yeqiu pushed her luggage aside and said to Ruan Qingqing, “I have nothing urgent anyway, so I might as well wait for you.”

“Won’t that delay you?” Ruan Qingqing asked.

“Not at all. I could use the rest,” Fu Yeqiu said, taking her hand and pulling her closer. She raised an eyebrow. “And Qingqing, haven’t you forgotten something?”

Had she?

For a moment, Ruan Qingqing genuinely couldn’t recall.

Fu Yeqiu took in Ruan Qingqing’s momentary confusion, her gaze dropping, her expression unreadable.

After a long pause, Fu Yeqiu released her hand, pulled out a woman’s cigarette, and lit it with a lighter.

The flickering flame danced between her fingers, casting its glow across her refined and beautiful face, revealing the sharp edge she usually kept hidden from Ruan Qingqing.

Fu Yeqiu’s voice was deep and low. “The promise you made to go swimming with me, Qingqing… do you really not remember?”

“Ah,” Ruan Qingqing clapped her hands. “I remember now!”

Oblivious to Fu Yeqiu’s rare shift in demeanor, she reached out and snatched the cigarette from Fu Yeqiu’s hand, laughing. “Then let’s go now! And you shouldn’t smoke anyway—it’s bad for your health.”

Fu Yeqiu pressed her empty fingers together, her gentle demeanor returning. “Alright.”