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... doesn’t matter. Take me to him, Lee Ki-Young,” Woo Hyo-Yeol commanded.

‘Why can't you understand how I feel?’

'If you go there now, your pride will get hurt.'

Woo Hyo-Yeol wasn’t weak. At a mere glance, I could tell that he had worked hard to regain his former form.

The problem was that he only worked hard; he still didn't have the same stats that he had during his first life.

He seemed like he was stuck between phases and needed time to actually get back ...

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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?”

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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.

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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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