My Years as the Pure Love Interest at the Noble Academy - Chapter 10: The Tenth Day at the Noble Academy

Which one would you choose between 700 points and 7 million in the college entrance examination? A few minutes ago, Luo Fan would have chosen the blue capsule without hesitation, and slapped the person who asked this question across the screen, but today this choice actually came true, facing 700 points and…

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Rhian Locke only wanted strength.To face the monster that slaughtered his parents while he watched, helpless.“I never asked to be your savior. So why should I care?”All he hoped for was to reach a decent rank, hunt that beast down, maybe become a monster hunter, and retire in peace.“I’m not a slave to the gods. I don’t exist to do their bidding.”But the world had made its decision long before he was born.“Patterns are meant to be broken.”------“Boy, I’ve bathed in the blood of your kind. I’ve crushed those stronger than you.”Lightning cracked across the sky. A hammer flew to the hand of a god.“I won’t let a deceiver’s spawn and a whore’s bastard son, stand before me and declare my end.”Rhian stepped forward, blood trailing from his mouth, eyes locked.“I’m not here to declare your end,” he said coldly. “I’m here to fulfill it.”....

Hunted for the Alchemical Book in her hand - Mu Ruyue wakes up in the body of a wastrel in Shenwu Continent - a martial arts dominated world.Her fiancé has jilted her in favor of her foster sister.Her father condones her abuse.Her younger sister wishes she was never born.And the whole country ridicules and insults her for being a first-rate wastrel.Wastrel? Not at all. With the Alchemical Book in her hand, what pills and elixirs can't she refine?Jilted? She'd rather marry the pure and innocent Ghost King, Ye Wuchen.----Mu Ruyue: Stop calling me Sister!Ye Wuchen: Can I call you Wife then?Mu Ruyue: Not that either!Ye Wuchen: (about to cry)Mu Ruyue: (sighs) Suit yourself.Ye Wuchen then leans forward and kisses the corners of her lips.Mu Ruyue: …Did a child just steal her first kiss?----Brother 1: Let her go!Brother 2: She is my mother, why should I let go of her!Brother 1: Don't ever think of robbing my mother!Mu Ruyue: Let me introduce you, Jing'er, this is your younger brother. Huang'er, this is your elder brother.Huang'er: Mother, this stupid boy bullied me. He's not my brother.Jing'er: Little guy, from now on, you must listen to me.Ye Wuchen: (How exactly do these two regard him? They dare fight over his wife in front of him...)

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?”