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... it was. They were the reason why the temple had stood the test of time. Such a trump card was never created for any individual, but the formations had just been destroyed by one person one after the other.

Anyone who had such an achievement should be proud of themselves, or even delighted enough about the outcome, but Xia Ji did not feel that way.

A voice deep in his heart said, ‘This is the limit of men. The formation was never created for any individual. It is considered powerful ...

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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.

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?”

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Su Yu, a descendant of a royal chef, entered a novel of the immortal world. She became a second senior sister who took over a mountain full of wounded and disabled from her missing senior brother.

According to the original plot, her third junior brother’s golden core was broken. Her fourth junior brother gets into trouble. His fifth junior brother was deceived… In short, they are dead, become casualties, or are injured.

Su Yu: Ah, this… our division seems to be over.

Looking at a group of skinny, weak, or disabled juniors, Su Yu, who wanted to retire: What kind of immortals are cultivating and fighting? Come and help me cook! Peace is a blessing!

However, when she researched the ingredients in this world of cultivating immortals and decided to make a pot of delicious vegetables… the spiritual energy in the wok was great and the fragrance spread, but there was a faint circle of energy, which turned into super-quality spiritual pill that could repair broken meridians lying on the bottom of the wok.

Su Yu: !

The seriously wounded and waiting to die juniors: !

Master Su didn’t believe in failure. When she was preparing to make a lotus leaf roasted rib, oil dripped and the aroma was overflowing. But at the bottom, there was a faint gleam of light accompanied a two-foot-long spirit sword, unparalleled in sword energy and a rare treasure once in a century.

Junior brother who gave up cultivation because of lack of spirit sword: !

Looking at the pots and pans full of spiritual pills and spiritual treasures piled up in her small kitchen, Su Yu frowned.

You may not believe it, but I just want to make a dish.

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