Blacksmith of the Apocalypse - Chapter 1193: The eagle!

I was forced to live in captivity for the rest of my life because I happened to be aware of the fact that I was a saint. I was truly a ‘real’ saint, but that didn’t matter, because there was already a designated saint in the temple.

When I died from all the abuse I endured, I was sent back to a time before all those previous events in my life had happened. After 15 regressions, I was exhausted. I prayed, “I don’t want anything to do with this, so please just let me die,”

And at that moment when I could finally be able to die, someone said, “How about being my daughter?”

…. That monstrous duke had adopted me.

“Gu Hangshen! Your sister stole my man, and you helped her do it! Your whole family is rotten!”“Whatever my sister owes you, I'll compensate you.”“And what will you compensate me with?”“Me.”“...”Later, he not only gave himself up as compensation, but he also came with a clingy little bundle of joy...

“201th, 202nd…”Zhou Can, an Intern of Tu Ya Hospital, a Grade A Provincial Tertiary Hospital, would silently count every stitch he finished.His target today was to complete 300 stitches and fight for a place in the House Officer recruitment two days later.[Congratulations on completing your 100,000th suture and triggering the EXP system. Medical skills and surgery practice can be obtained.]Zhou Can shook his head hard.What the hell is this?Something even more magical happened as he thought about it.An interface appeared in front of him.[Zhou Can, Intern.][Pathology Diagnosis, Level Two. Current EXP: 89.5/100. Outstanding House Officer-level diagnosis ability.]A surgical legend was in the making.

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?”