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... bes that extended from the device in the center of the table that he’d been told was a gnomish invention called a hookah. The smoke was rich and flavorful, leaving his mouth feeling a bit like he’d eaten something that made sparks in his mouth. He blew out the smoke into the air, and looked across at the other Fingers.

Fritz was blitzed out of his mind on something or another, and seemed very interested in the texture of the couch he was sitting on. Drake was drumming his fingers against ...

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He survived past his emperor dad and crown prince elder brother, and became an emperor.

He didn’t know how to govern the country, but he was lucky—there was a Grand Preceptor who “assisted” him, spoiling him even more than his father did.

After just a few years, this puppet emperor died. When he awakened, he had transmigrated into the modern world, becoming a third-rate model struggling alone without any loving parents.

Just when he thought he had become a little cabbage that nobody wanted and no one would ever spoil him again, a certain ancient monster of a Grand Preceptor who had lived 1,000 years appeared again… and looked to be doing quite well for himself.

The utterly impoverished little emperor had tears in his eyes: “Beloved subject! Zhen (royal We) have missed you so much!”

Grand Preceptor: “Your Majesty, this minister has waited for you for a thousand years.”

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After possessing the game’s villain, my goal was solely one thing –

To escape from this cursed game world.

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I failed on the first run.

But I resolved once more to escape this world…

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Yet the heroines who once loathed me began to plead for my affection.

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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.”

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?”