My Young Husband, The Assasin - Chapter 18: Wounds of the Past

After being fired, Lu Qingjiu finally decided to return to his hometown to farm.

At first, he started raising a pig, and then he found that the pig could solve more high-level math questions than he could.

After that, he started raising a flock of chickens, and then he found that his own fighting ability was one-tenth of that of a single chicken.

Finally, Lu Qingjiu finally realised that this old home wasn’t quite right… Especially a certain person by his side who constantly stared at him day in and day out.

Lu Qingjiu: “Are you drooling because of the spicy stir-fry I’m holding or because of me?”

Bai Yuehu pointed at the stir-fry.

Lu Qingjiu: “Then can you let go??”

Bai Yuehu reluctantly glanced at Lu Qingjiu’s arm, before loosening his teeth.

- Description from Novelupdates

Su Jianan was marrying the love of her life. It all seemed picture-perfect, except for a few catches. One, it was a marriage of convenience. Two, she would be divorced after two years.

“Are you my knight?” The silver-haired youth looked at the blonde girl before him and asked, his cheeks flushed red. This was their first encounter when he was only ten years of age.

“Are you my bride?” He held her in his arms, embraced the girl who had accompanied him for ten years straight. He was sixteen years of age.

“Are you my king?” He knelt before the throne, smiling foolishly as he looked at the girl holding the sword victoriously. At this moment, he looked like the boy he was when they first met.

“I’m fine without having eyes for you. The entirety of Camelot is for your taking.” Smiling soft and gently, he gave his eyes to the girl who lost her eyes due to the curse of the red dragon. He doesn’t regret it, he thinks. He was twenty years of age.

“So… Arthur… Artoria Pendragon, are you willing… are you willing to spend the rest of your life with me?” His voice was soft and clear as he reached out to touch her hand.

This was their legend.

- Description from Novelupdates

While reading a book, a sparkle of light disappeared. And, as it did, a message appeared.