Martial Cultivator - Chapter 566: A Banquet

A man with a lifelong martial arts background, raised in Asia due to his family's profession, moves to the US for education and work. He discovers Historical Medieval Battles through a colleague and becomes deeply passionate about it. He trains hard and becomes skilled enough to represent his country.During a competition, his armor fails, and he's struck in the head with a two-handed axe, seemingly dying. But is this truly the end?

I’ve always dreamed of becoming a villainess, but I never thought that I would actually become one….!

This is the story of a young girl who aspires to become a villainous noble girl who’s capable of growing stronger through every confrontation that she is faced with.

Disclaimer: The main character’s standards for a villainess are a bit off.

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?”

Shen Huai was abandoned by his artists, and took over one who no one was optimistic about net black newcomer Ye Cang.

Ye Cang caught fire all over the country. Everyone else thinks it’s Shen Huai tune. Only Shen Huai knows. His artist is a superstar reborn. Later, Shen Huai gathered again-“the legendary film queen of the period of the Republic of China,” the unsurpassed “Golden supporting role” in the history of China, “the Queen of Love songs popular all over the country in the Last Century,” and “the greatest superstar in a hundred years.” he breathed a sigh of relief: I don’t have to go back and inherit tens of billions of dollars