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... 's house, when you nervously held my hand, I actually had a palpitating feeling, just like when we first met. My heart was beating fast, even inside I was secretly happy and felt like I was in love at that moment."

It had been years...

In the past, Zhang Xiuying and Han Xiwang could be considered to have passionately loved each other. However, since they had been married for a long time, their days gradually became boring, and because Han Xiwang had been removed from his position ...

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I became a doctor in Rhodes Island through the old-fashioned way, but my initial suit seems to be a little bit wrong… What’s going on with this Fluorostar battle suit?

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“My name is Jogo, I’m 24 years old, I’m a doctor, unmarried, I work in the Rhode Island headquarters, and I have to work overtime every day until 8:00 in the evening before I can go back to the dormitory; I don’t smoke, I only drink lightly; I go to bed at 10:00 in the evening , I need to sleep for 9 hours every day. Before going to bed, I will swallow a piece of bread, eat three packs of seasonings, then pour a pot of boiling water, go to bed and fall asleep immediately, and never leave fatigue and stress until the next day God, Kelsey says I’m normal.”

“I just woke up this morning, what are you talking about in your sleep, doctor?”

“I just want to say, Amiya, please pass me the mirror and let me see what new work I have done today.”

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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.”

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?”