Rebirth of the Villainous Female Boss - Chapter 778 - 752: What a Unique Diagnosis Sheet!

My reunion with her took place in the worst possible way.

The hierarchy of Tao Cultivation is strict, and the life of a Loose Cultivator is difficult.At the age of ten, Mo Hua's Sea of Consciousness conjured a Taoist Stele.It could forge Divine Sense, learn Formation.Mo Hua would use the Taoist Stele to craft the Supreme Divine Sense, to comprehend the various heavenly Formations, and to strive for the Longevity Road.He would change not only his own destiny but also the destiny of all bottom-tier cultivators under the heavens.(Traditional Xianxia, no system, Formation genre, growth genre)

Her husband, Derrick Vaisil, who had a funeral four days ago, suddenly came back to life. But this man was so different from before he died!

“I’m hungry, wife.”

From regularly turning up in the dining room that he had always avoided,

“How about we use the same bedroom?”

To a furtive suggestion of combining their bedrooms that they had always been using separately.

What in the world happened to this man?

*

“You always give off this delicious smell…………. but how can I bear with it?”

Right now, at this moment, Judith felt like he was a cruel predator who would completely devour her from head to toe easily.

“You, uh, what the hell are you?”

He, who tormented her as he repeatedly sucked on her soft earlobe and put his tongue inside her ear, chuckled.

“What am I?”

Derrick kissed her chin and whispered languidly.

“I am your husband, Judith.”

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?”