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... the enraged prince, and Ming Jiuzhu idly adjusting the incense burner—everything was exactly as it had been in the dream.

"Was it His Highness who harmed Prince Chen?"

"Who killed Prince Chen?!"

"Was it you? Consort Ning? Or... perhaps Prince Huai, who was already stripped of his title?"

"Do you wish to kill me?"

Startled awake by the nightmare, Sun Caiyao heard the rain outside. She rose on trembling legs, poured herself a cup of cold tea, and gulped it d ...

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Tang Qiu was a substitute bride–forced to take her half-sister’s place and marry the young master of the Jiang family, a deformed cripple with less than 6 months left to live.

“Who would have thought that even a sickly whelp like Jiang Shaocheng would find himself a bride?”

“I hear that he’s practically on his deathbed and he’s only marrying the Fengs’ daughter to improve his lifespan.”

Tang Qiu ignored the whispers around her and focused on her husband-to-be, who coughed violently in his wheelchair. At the altar, after they had said their vows, she lifted her veil and knelt in front of Jiang Shaocheng, pressing a hesitant kiss to his lips.

The marriage contract was signed. No matter his physical deformities, he was now her husband.

She wasn’t afraid of the scars that marked his face, nor was she repulsed by him being confined to a wheelchair. Every morning, she made him breakfast, attended to his needs, and thought of little else beyond her duties as a wife.

“Young Master Jiang is a cripple who can’t get it up,” her best friend argued. “When he dies, you’ll still be untouched. You should set your sights higher.”

“A sickly invalid like Jiang Shaocheng can’t give you happiness,” her ex-boyfriend insisted. “I’ll wait for you.”

But Young Master Jiang only scoffed. “I have plenty of time left to be with her.”

Later in their marriage, Jiang Shaocheng wanted to enjoy his little wife in all ways–the press of her lips against his, the brush of skin on skin; the way a husband and wife were supposed to. But Tang Qiu refused him, blushing. “No, we can’t. The doctor says you can’t exert yourself.”

Jiang Shaocheng’s desire was surging through him, a heat in his core that demanded to be satiated. He cursed, I should have gotten rid of that doctor and the wheelchair long ago.

But he yearned to make love to his little wife, and so he revealed his true identity. In the blink of an eye, the deformed cripple transformed into a powerful businessman–tall, dark, and handsome. He quieted Tang Qiu’s protests, his body positioned over hers, his arms caging her as she lay on the bed. His voice was low when he asked, “What about now?”

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The young president, Yu Shu, is vigorous and unsmiling. The outside world commented that she is a high-altitude flower that can be seen from afar but not to be played. Prejudice.
At first, she hated Zhao Qingying, just because this woman delayed her brother’s study, and later, it was because… she was too profligate.
Xiaolang’s hooves should be cured!
Later, really fragrant——
One day, my younger brother saw his idol sitting in his living room, and said pleasantly, “Brother Ying, why are you here?!”
Yu Shu said meaningfully: “Well, it’s indeed a big wedding.”

Zhao Qingying’s flourishing beauty is the center of the topic, the darling of the media and the favorite of the paparazzi, and there will never be a shortage of gossip targets around her. One day, she was interviewed.
Host: “The boss of the hotel is dating you, is it true?”
Zhao Qingying: “My brother.”
Host: “The financial tycoon is rumored to be your benefactor, is the news reliable?”
Zhao Qingying: “My father.”
The host asked weakly: “Then Yu Shu, who has been in frequent contact with you recently, who are you?”
Zhao Qingying looked at the camera, her eyebrows and eyes curved: “My wife.”

The cold president who is obsessed with making money from games X the big star who only cares about teasing girls

[Don’t ask, it’s sweet to ask! 】
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