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The Substitute Bride and the Cripple

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?”

Wuxia · Thành thị
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
110 Chs

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Biên tập viên: Atlas Studios

Jiang Shaocheng glanced at the artist's name and was surprised; it was a friend of his. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know much about art, but art often communicates emotion through its presentation. When I look at the painting, something flickers in my heart, and I want to smile… to laugh… to cry… Am I making sense, dear?" Tang Qiu was torn, unable to express her thoughts clearly.

Jiang Shaocheng held her hand. "And that feeling resonates with you. That's why you were touched. Right, Qiu?"

Tang Qiu was stunned. She wanted to question why she had been struck by such strange emotions, but if she had never experienced them, how could they be so easily–and vividly–triggered by a simple painting? She changed the topic. "The artist is really impressive, to demonstrate such a high level of mastery."

"Qiu, you don't have to hide your emotions from me. If you're happy, you can laugh. If not, you can be sad. Be honest with me." Jiang Shaocheng gazed at her.