MTL - You Look Like You’re Made of Money - Chapter 63

It wasn’t even malicious criticism.I just gave feedback in the tone I was asked to.So why the hell did I, the writer who just wanted to help a junior, possess this body of the prospective groom… a villain, who died in the hands of the heroine on their wedding night?

Youth, is meant to be used to shed sweat under the sun!

It never occurred to her that she would marry a man when they first met! Yan wen and Jiang suian's marriage was very sudden. Betrayed by her boyfriend and best friend, she married the stranger she met for the first time in anger. What she didn't know was that the stranger turned out to be the most famous CEO who is rich and handsome.

Although they just know each other for a short time, she was attracted to him all the time. When she encountered difficulties in work, he always appeared to help her out in time; when she was hurt by someone close to her, she was always comforted by him.

Appreciating his charm, feeling his tenderness, she began to rejoice that they get married at the first meeting.

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?”