Flash Marriage: CEO's Sweet Love - Chapter 780

With Ye Chen, who inherited the devil, reborn the Phoenix continent, invincible, there will be any unknown secrets waiting to be solved here.
   The “City Revival Master” has been completed, and my brothers support it ~~

- Description from ~

The all-powerful boss is stripped of his identity again!One is handsome while the other is proud; the two-faced refined rascal versus a cynical girl with hidden identities.Everyone secretly jokei that Master Mo’s wife is an ignorant and incompetent little tyrant.Bad at her studies? Lu Mian emergei as the top student for science at her college entrance examination.No talent? Lu Mian shows everyone how competent she is at multitasking by playing the piano with one hand, and painting with the other during a live performance.A prodigal? She makes a small fortune in just two days with her limited knowledge.Boxing, Go chess, appraising treasures, car racing… Bring it on! She can do them all.The soft-spoken Xiao Qimo adjusts his glasses with pride. “Who else has something to say?”One of his subordinates raises his hand cautiously. “Master Mo, your wife seems to be the one who single-handedly destroyed the illegal laboratory.”Xiao Qimo looks at his wife who is quietly practicing calligraphy. “That’s impossible!”It isn’t until…During the general meeting for the International Elite Organization, both Xiao Qimo and Lu Mian wear a mask. They take the stage and succeed as the organization’s Chief and Deputy Chief, respectively.The Deputy Chief beside me looks like my wife. This is Xiao Qimo’s thought.The Chief looks like someone I know. Lu Mian is thinking the same thing, too.Soon, the newly appointed Chief is seen blocking his deputy at the ladies’ room.What happens when two strong and uncorrupted individuals fall for each other?

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?”

Vincent van Gogh, the painter who refused to be an accessory Of power and painted with his soul at the tip of a brush, was not understood by anyone and had to die like a madman, and he woke up in 21st century Korea.

Like a wheat field melted with gold, like a sunflower that swallowed the sun, a dazzling painter once again takes the brush.