MTL - Reincarnation Of The Strongest Sword God - Chapter 1135 Resource Hegemony

What is a genius? Capable of comprehending any battle skill regardless of the skill itself and sweeping away the bottlenecks while cultivating a new technique; this is a true genius! He Yiming was originally an ordinary youngster in the He family’s estate with not too extraordinary aptitude in learning martial arts.

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?”

A high-ranking officer in the Marines and a master of both Western and Chinese medicine, Feng Yu Heng is transmigrated with a duang sound to the Da Shun Dynasty.

At eighteen years old, Lin Qingyu was married as part of a Chong Xi into the Nan’an Hou Mansion, becoming the ill Lu Wancheng’s male wife.

On the eve of their wedding, Young Master Hou lay lazily on the bed and said, “Beauty, to be honest, I really don’t want to engage in domestic struggles. I just want to drift along, eat and wait to die. I want to be a salted fish.”

A year later, Young Master Hou became gravely ill. He took Lin Qingyu’s hand and sighed, “Wife, I’m going to die, but I think I can continue to transmigrate. In order for you to properly recognize me in the future, let us set a secret code.”

After the death of Young Master Hou, Lin Qingyu was prepared to stay a widow all his life. Unexpectedly, after only half a year, the great general who had rendered outstanding military service, actually came to propose marriage.

Lin Qingyu would rather die. But the general said but one statement, “If odd, change; if even, remain the same?”

Lin Qingyu: “…I will marry you.”

After two years, the general died in battle. Before Lin Qingyu even had time to grieve, he was recruited into the palace by the Emperor.

The emperor complained aggrievedly, “Baobei, this time I have became the Emperor. My salted fish dreams have been completely shattered…”

Lin Qingyu knew that although his husband was a bag of lazybones, no one was his equal when it came to conspiracy and schemes.

He rubbed the Emperor’s head. “Don’t think about it. Get started on those reports. Behave yourself.”