MTL - Spirit Hotel - Chapter 39 Pin off (on)

He was the powerful and influential heir of B City, the merciless head of the commercial world, but the divorce papers made him lose his cool.

“Sign the divorce papers, daddy,” said the 5-year-old boy.

This man had the divorce papers thrown in his face by his wife six years ago, and was now being pushed by his own son to sign the papers.

“That would make you a single-parent child,” said Gu Juexi coldly.

“Mommy said unicorns don’t exist but men like you do,” the boy leered at his father and said.

Gu Juexi’s face fell. ‘That damned woman.’

“You haven’t signed the papers,” the boy reminded as the man left. As usual, the door shut in his face.

Good lord… Dad and mom are not getting a divorce and are giving him a baby brother? How worrying!

[A Kung Pao Chicken that does not look as good as it tastes]

Ever since Jiang Feng had stumbled upon the discovery that he could actually see the descriptions of the dishes his father made, his life had taken a dramatic turn…

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2. This game will not interfere with any choices made by the Player. Please do your best to unlock the achievements.

3. The game reserves the right of final interpretation.

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?”

Jung Sunwoo was an average man. He had just taken his first job at W&U, a celebrity management company, as a manager. He could finally achieve his dream of being the manager of a world-famous actor or actress. On his way to work, he fell into what appeared to be a lucid dream about his future. As he went on with his day, he realized it may not have simply been a lucid dream.