MTL - Imperfections - Chapter 171 Unprecedented migration

【1v1, double doting, clean text, handsome men, and fierce women】 It's rumored that Miss Lu has no talents, isn't a good student, is arrogant, and doesn’t care about others... A certain man, adjusting his glasses, dotes on her and says, “It's okay, I still want to spoil her.”No talent? One day, a piano piece played by Lu Qingyi shocked the entire entertainment circle.A poor student? Principal Hardrick, with a flattering face, followed behind Lu Qingyi, asking obsequiously: “Dear Qingyi, when will you come back to school to teach?”Arrogant? Doesn't care about others? Xu Boyan said with doting affection: “These are privileges I offer her. Do you have a problem with it?”“Boss, our intelligence network has been breached.”One of the subordinates said cautiously.“Ah? I'm sorry, my hand slipped.” A certain Miss nonchalantly raised her paw.“Kiddo, how many online aliases do you have?” A certain man asked, a spoiling smile hanging on his lips.Suddenly one day, Lu Qingyi discovered that her identity is not what she thought it was.【This is a story of two major players unmasking each other. If it's not your taste, refrain from speaking ill. Thank you.】

After years of exile, Marcus is coming back home. A powerful mage with few equals, Marcus lives in a world full of monsters and powerful adepts, many of which have bad histories with him. But he has not come back to pursue vengeance or start a fight. All Marcus wants to do is reconnect with old friends, build himself a house, and maybe train a successor or two.Alas, the world didn’t stop just because Marcus went into exile, and not everyone is content to let go of old grievances. Strange things are happening in the world at large, too, hinting at a looming disaster of unknown nature. Still, where there is a will, there is a way.If nothing else, Marcus has a lot of magical power to throw at problems.+++Zenith of Sorcery is set in its own original setting and isn’t related to Mother of Learning… beyond being written by the same person, of course. This is a more classical fantasy story than my previous one, with a lower level of technology and stuff like elves and dwarves, but it has a lot of worldbuilding effort put into it and its own complex magical system. The story has significant xianxia influences, but isn’t meant to be a xianxia story.For those of you not familiar with my previous work, I write relatively slowly. I intend to publish chapters at the rate of one chapter every three or four weeks, subject to further delays as life intervenes.

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?”

I am the sword.

Killing a man amidst a thousand miles, no one dares take ten steps.
Killing a man amidst a thousand miles, no one can take ten steps.
Killing a man amidst a thousand miles, ten steps? Not possible!

I am the sword, the sword is me,
On the path towards heaven, each shall wield their own.

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