All My Disciples Suck! - Chapter 733

Magic. It is a product of neither legends nor fairy tales, but instead has become a technology of reality since a time unknown to people. Supernatural power became a technology systematized through magic, while magic became a technical skill. A “Supernatural Power User” became a “Magic Technician”. Magic Technicians (in short, Magicians) are nurtured through Magic High Schools and Universities. This is a story about: A defective elder brother and low achiever. A perfect, flawless younger sister and high achiever. After both siblings entered a Magic High School, The stage of daily turbulence was unveiled —.

For ten years, he had loved her, but with just one word of “brother,” she rejected him completely.His dignity was trampled upon, yet she remained indifferent to his feelings. It was only when He Ju finally woke up to the truth that he realized his love was not even worth mentioning in her eyes.With a plane ticket and a long-planned confession, He Ju finally understood that there were people in this world who loved him foolishly.He Ju no longer obsessed over the past, and instead focused on the person in front of him.However, when he achieved success and had a loving wife, his former lover came crying to him: “Brother He...”

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?”