Super Rich: I Can Hear Women's Inner Voices - Chapter 27: Prizes

After recently taking on the job as the President of Jing Sheng Group’s assistant, she is reports to the president, that has also just taken office, for work.

“Tomorrow morning, postpone all the meetings. At 9 o’clock, follow me to the civil administration office to receive the license.”

On the first day of work, she already encountered an overbearing president that is forcing her to receive the license. Should she resist or obey?

At night, a certain someone leans on the edge of the door, saying in a light and lazy manner: “Madam, I want to turn off the lights. Are you sure you want to go to sleep wrapped like a steamed dumpling while holding a knife?”

“Either that or you can go out to sleep!”

“Impossible, this is my home!”

“During the day, you transferred the house to me. So now it’s my home!”

- Description from Novelupdates

Dear tired Reader, it is an honor that you have chosen this book amidst the heavy, gloomy aisles of the Library.It is with some regret, however, that I must inform you this book is ill.Your fingers should be able to feel the raised Proliferation of tissues on the surface of the Skin of the book,The words written in days of old are like Parasites taking root in the pages, longing for someone to observe their writhing,To sense, to decipher, and to touch the very essence of this sick story.If you insist on borrowing this book, please be sure to regularly check your own physical condition.Keep in mind.

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?”