Dragon Who Controls Time - Chapter 1518 - My Father Garen Aurelian (2)

This book narrates the joyful cultivation tale of an ordinary commonplace university student and a cute and coquettish little fox.

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?”

The cousin that Jing Huan has been closest to since he was a child was labelled as “the other woman” in a certain popular online game: only after devoting herself did she know that the other party was a jerk with a girlfriend.

Sheng MuMu was transmigrated into a novel.

While others transmigrate to become celebrities, she ends up becoming a stepmother to a 17-year-old young master of a prestigious family?!

She wants to escape! But wait, what’s this? Pretending to be his wife for a monthly allowance of 500,000 in pocket money that can be freely spent on her card? Suddenly she doesn’t mind so much!

Everyone guesses: “She’s just a stepmother, how much could he really care for her? President Qi just brought a woman home to take care of his son.”

On the day of the banquet, surrounded by the media, Sheng MuMu hooks her arm around the man’s neck and sweetly calls him: “Dear~”

The man’s eyes darken as he pulls her slender waist closer, naturally dispelling the rumors.

Then people say: “She’s just a brainless trophy wife, just a pretty face.”

Sheng MuMu: “You dare call this 700-scoring top-scoring beauty from the city just a trophy wife?”

She opens a flower shop, becoming an internet sensation with people lining up to take photos, earning pots full of money; she starts a brand, appearing on the cover of financial magazines’ annual rankings.

And after that…

Tsundere stepson: “Better than a real mother.”

Vicious mother-in-law: “Daughter-in-law, when are you taking me square dancing?”

Until one night, Sheng MuMu’s earlobes blushing as she pushes away the man pinning her against the wall.

“President Qi, our agreement is just a contract marriage. ”

The man’s eyes narrow as he loosens his tie and leans down:

“The agreement? I tore that up long ago.”

Sheng MuMu: “You…mmmph”