Exorcist's Self-Cultivation - Chapter 721 - 699 Guess

When Fang Jin learned that he was in a cultivation novel where the protagonist was a lady and that he had become cannon fodder, he quickly racked his brain to think of a way to save himself.

Everything seemed wrong until he saw it.

[First day as a pet owner.]

[Attractiveness +1]

…

[A day of cultivation with zero gain.]

[Understanding +1]

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?”

Glenn Hughes had spent most of his life confined to a hospital bed. Brilliant yet shackled by a cruel fate, he endured ten long years under the relentless weight of an unforgiving disease. Between medications, surgeries, and agonizing treatments, death had begun to seem less like an end and more like a mercy.But when he finally closed his eyes for the last time… rest did not come.The stench of sweat, dust, and blood was the first thing to greet him. Shackled, filthy, and drained of strength, his body was no longer his own. He was no longer in a hospital but in a cell. No longer a patient, but a prisoner.“What the… what the hell is this?”Glenn had been thrust into a world of steel and prana, reborn in the body of a condemned slave. Once a noble, now nothing more than a number among the damned.Yet, something was different. There was a reason he was still alive.Witness Glenn’s transformation as he is dragged through agony and ecstasy, suffering and desire, boundless pleasure and unrelenting torment—all while shouldering a burden so crushing that any other man would break.------------------------------------------------------------------------No netorare (NTR), no system, no incest, no consanguineous relationships.

She died in her prime as the Queen of Song.

After being reincarnated, she becomes a simple trainee.

Losing her former glory? It doesn’t matter—no one can compete with her voice as a beautiful singer.

Mocked by her lowly birth? It doesn’t matter—her true identity is enough to make the whole world tremble.

She owes huge debts? It doesn’t matter…

A powerful boss once whispered to her, “Your debt will disappear if you become my woman.”

But the proud her would reply, “I’m sorry. I would sell my art, but not myself.”