His Dearest Wife - Chapter 681

There is no rebirth through time, and there is no system of heaven to cut melons and vegetables;

There is no secret book under the cliff, and there is no great return pill from the dead;

There is no such thing as a full-fledged lust with a strange root and a sacred blood.

If it is said that Shi Jianren is an expert who has attained the Tao and joined the WTO,

Then Bai Haonan was a dazed fellow who smashed his head into blood.

The key is that he still feels that he is living a very happy life!

A story similar to the golden right foot,

A story about a dream,

It depends on what tinted glasses you are wearing.

- Description from novelbuddy

[The End of Full Text]“From just now, you've been looking at me with such malicious intent. Are you perhaps reminiscing about...the old dream of the night before last?” Liang Chen forcefully pulled Jing Haohao into the washroom.“I told you, what happened a few days ago was an accident. I'm not the kind of woman you can just casually touch!” Jing Haohao shook off the hand he had grasped onto her wrist, turned to leave, but was abruptly caught by Liang Chen. He lowered his head to her ear, a mischievous smile on his lips, cryptically saying: “Don't worry, if I can't casually touch, then I'll be serious when I do!”

Yang Yan found himself becoming a corpse. But before he could stay for a minute, the lid of his coffin was opened.A stunning face appeared in front of him.Leng Biyue!As the Holy Maiden of the Fairy Maiden Sect, she possessed the quasi-empire bloodline!Blood spilled from the corner of her mouth, fell, and landed on Yang Yan's face.His eyes opened!“The Sword Dao Emperor, who was buried for 100,000 years, has come to life once again!”

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?”