Rise of the Malactric Heir - Chapter 362 Sonner

What if your own father and his mistress were behind your mother’s death? What if you were about to be sold if to a scumbag?

Jiang Feng considered himself just an ordinary delivery guy.Until one day, a young man suddenly appeared, carefully grabbing his hand and saying, “Judge, Judge, I am the King of Hell.”“…” Jiang Feng replied, “King of Hell, King of Hell, I am also the King of Hell.”The King of Hell turned around, tearfully addressing the Black and White Impermanence, “I knew it, he’s been wanting to usurp my position for a long time!”—-“Those people all say that Heaven has the virtue of cherishing life, and tell me not to dwell on it anymore. Is it true that after people die, they don’t even have the right to appeal for justice?”“They look at life and death, I only judge right and wrong.”“Who are you?”—”The Judge.”

The full-level boss Lu Jingzhi crossed over.

Start with a thatched cottage, with three family members attached.

Lu Jingzhi gnawed on the bun and clenched her fists—rise up, she wants to rise up!

After all, he is the owner of the three-line ability, sitting on the space, with a lot of food, so is it possible that he will starve to death in the valley?

It’s just—something is wrong with my mother, what, she was reborn, and she was an imperial concubine in her previous life?

There is something wrong with my sister, what, is she a female president from modern times?

There is something wrong with my sister, what, she also wore it…

Lu Jingzhi was ecstatic… the whole family worked together, is it still far from the days of eating hot pot and living in a villa?

Hunting, farming, making jam, growing peppers, opening a milk tea shop… Life is getting more and more prosperous.

- 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?”