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... the bed with a smile on her face, but her cute white face suddenly cramped and showed signs of fear as she seemed to dream of something bad.


“Big Brother! Don’t go…! Don’t leave me alone…!


“Don’t take me away! You’re all bad guys!


“Heath… What’s wrong? Don’t scare me…”


Vivian swung her arms frenziedly as if trying to hold onto something even though her eyes were still closed.


Soran, who was about to change into a clean set of clothes, ...

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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.”

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Not only does she serve her husband food and refreshments during the day, does she need to make sure he’s well “fed” at night too?

“It’s getting late now… we should go to bed. Said the sickly husband. She simply closed the door, turned off the lights, and went straight to sleep.

“If you dare move, I’ll kick you out of the bed!” She threatened.

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Mo Qian Xue worked hard to become rich. She built workshops, opened factories, one aided by her sickly husband towards prosperity. Fortunately, she could live a peaceful life far from bickering relatives, but then, much to her dismay, she still had to deal with the villagers knocking on her door.

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