PREVIEW

... s of each year can be regarded as the standard opening quarter.

  But from the perspective of spring, summer, autumn and winter.

  In the first three months of each year, only March can barely touch spring, and sometimes it doesn't necessarily touch it.

  This is true in March, let alone February.

  The first half of February is as cold as deep winter, at least during this time period, the rain that hits people will never be very comfortable.

  However, what su ...

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“Why can you touch girls without being struck by lightning!” the traverser A roared.

“I am special…”

“Why can you bring the girl home!” The traverser B roared unwillingly.

“This is a special treatment…”

“Why do we want to draw a knife and chop you as soon as we see you!?” Many traversers.

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This book is the story of the protagonist leading a group of girls to fight with the traversers…

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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.”

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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.

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Aoki’s resolute face was indifferent. “If the sun doesn’t shine on me, please let me be surrounded by darkness!”
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