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... l room, silent.

One was because of shock, and the other was frantically thinking about countermeasures.

A young actor who became famous and had a bright future turned out to be a woman disguised as a man!

"He" turned out to be a woman!

Zong Zi stared at Tan Jinxue almost uncontrollably, the nightgown the woman was wearing was slightly messy, a small piece of snowy skin could be seen from the neckline, and the female curves that could not be concealed even by the loose ...

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“I’m very sorry, but we are unable to cure you.”

“W-wait! Even AIDS can be cured now, how come nymphomania can’t?”

“Ha… haha…”

There was no other choice, Dan Ziwei could only return to his old job of being a quiet, peaceful gamer. Though, the games nowadays were a bit… strange…

Scenario 1: You like to shake hands with strangers.
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Scenario 4: You’re a bottom.
Scenario 5: Important things should be said twice.

Dan Ziwei: … How am I meant to play a game like this?! (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻

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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?”

“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.”

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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.”

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