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... ing from the back, Su Muxia secretly clenched her fist with her hand on her side, her expression increasingly ugly.

Su Luo glanced at Su Muxia, and a smile appeared in his eyes.

She became more sure of the little secret in Su Muxia's heart...

At this moment, Su Muxia turned her head sharply, staring at Su Luo, "What are you laughing at?!"

Su Luo looked innocent: "I didn't laugh."

Su Muxia stared at Su Luo mockingly: "You are from Peiyang Su's house, do you know ...

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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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