Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai - Chapter 151 - 144

In the second year of marriage, Yvette Thiel was pregnant.Yvette was full of joy, but she got a divorce agreement.In a car accident, Yvette lay in a pool of blood and begged Lance Wolseley to save their child, but Lance left with his sweetheart in his arms.Yvette was disheartened and slowly closed her eyes.Later, it was heard that Lance from New York had a taboo name, and no one could mention it.At the wedding, Lance suddenly went crazy. He knelt on the ground and looked at the cruel woman with red eyes. “You are pregnant with my child. Who do you want to marry?”

Lin Qing He transmigrated into a novel and became one of its cannon fodders. The novel’s background is non-viable 1960s, a time of want to eat but nothing to eat and want to wear but nothing to wear.

The Zhuang Lady sent her dog, Yin Huayue, to keep an eye on him and confine him. She is cold-blooded and hypocritical, and always has a fake smile on her face. Helping him get ready, combing his hair, and lighting the lamps. Awake for twelve hours a day, Li Jingyun spends ten hours thinking about how to make her leave. But after that, she actually left. He became anxious.

Despite our brief time together, we are not appreciated despite our strength. Rather be alone, instead of withering alongside with another.

- Description from Novelupdates

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?”