The Villain's Face Slapping Counterattack - Chapter 22

Reyhan Alther died at the age of 20 and was reincarnated… as the wind. Formless and directionless, he drifted through a new world filled with wonder and cruelty. But from that breeze, everything began. With a mysterious power called the Divine Spirit System, Reyhan slowly rose—guiding spirits, gathering followers, and changing the course of the world. From a lonely gust, he became a figure known as Father… even to the gods.A battle of fate awaits. But before that, there's still time for the wind to whisper… and maybe crack a small joke or two.

Chen Che traveled through the strange world of immortality with an overload plug-in.

Every time he enters the overload state, his body will experience some discomfort.

The training speed of the exercises has been improved, and the weak cough.

The speed of boxing comprehension increased, and the arm was red and swollen.

The speed of supernatural power cultivation has increased, and the headache is splitting.

…

Chen Che, who was suffering from an external illness, chose to practice in a low-key manner.

It was not until the first year of Daozong that the new emperor ascended the throne and began to rectify the dynastic order, killing traitors…

Then something unexpected happened!

What?

The father I never met turned out to be a big traitor?

It also affects me to be exterminated by the nine clans?

never mind! Stop pretending!

I see who can kill me!

- Description from novelbuddy

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?”