MTL - Forty Millenniums of Cultivation - Chapter 28 Of course

Su Jianan was marrying the love of her life. It all seemed picture-perfect, except for a few catches. One, it was a marriage of convenience. Two, she would be divorced after two years.

Lin Yu crossed into the world of the Demon Slayer and started the mode of rewarding hard work.

Each physical training can bring the increase of its own attributes, and there is no limit to the superposition.

The flesh is sanctified, and the power is supreme.

Fallen Ji looked in fear at the tall man in front of him, whose body was covered in shadows. The machete-like Japanese sword behind the man was bigger than her entire body, and her neck was being stabbed to death by a strong arm. ‘s grasp.

“Unarmed… catch a ghost?”

Yi Wozu couldn’t remember how many times his wounds had healed in the fierce battle, and the corners of his bloodshot eyes were fierce and excited.

“A mere human can actually reach this level, are you a monster?

bring it on!

I would like to call you the strongest. ”

Ghost Dance? Wu Miserable: Trembling…

- Description from novelbuddy

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?”