My Dungeons Are Popular - Chapter 9

Yang Ye’s entire family relied on him to keep them safe, but just when everything seemed to be going well, misfortune struck in droves!

All I ever wanted was for famous detectives like Sherlock Holmes or Arsène Lupin to appear in my dreams and share their wisdom. But instead, why am I hearing the voices of notorious serial killers in my head, guiding me to solve a string of mysterious cases?

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?”

“My pants are already off. Stopping now would be a bit redundant, don’t you think?”

Everyone knew the cool, aristocratic Chairman Li was sick, but only Rong Yan knew the man was problematic and sick in the head. That day, she was accosted at the bedroom entrance. Long arms held her against her will as the man leaned into her ear and whispered, “Marry me.” Rong Yan struggled to no avail. Frustrated, she said, “I have a boyfriend of five years.”

“You mean my son is your boyfriend?”

For her baby boy, she was willing to secretly marry this billionaire chairman. From then on, he held the knife for her kills, and poured the gasoline as she set fires. Everyone knew the chairman was possessive and paranoid—and Rong Yan was his bottom line. The five-year-old Li Duidui was at a loss. When Daddy and Mommy fought, was he supposed to help clear up the misunderstanding or close the door on them…

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