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... acteristic of this curse is that it spreads. Do not get wounded, or you are done for.’

Valerian asked, ‘How to defeat these guys?’

Fortuna pondered the question and said, ‘Chop the heads off or smack it to a pulp.’

The young man nodded while attacking the dark wolf under him. Then, he said, “Are you getting smug by spreading this sham of a toxin around those I have already defeated? I do not understand what sort of validation you will achieve by this act of yours. Probabl ...

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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.

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Chen Xing, “Could I be partnered with a more normal Protector martial god?”

Isn’t your Protector really skilled in fighting?

Chen Xing, “He is good at fighting, but when he loses it he’ll hit even me……”

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*: Buddhist term: Abhijñā, a mysterious force that surpasses the limits of mortals gained through meditation

**: old name for China

***: figurative meaning: long period of misery and oppression

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