Thriller Night Talk - Chapter 105: He can only rely on himself

Fifty years ago, Dragon City transmigrated to the Other World. Alone in the world, they lifted the banner of Earth’s civilization and fought against the terrifying forces of the Other World.

Lu Xiao had followed his master for eighteen years, excelling in both medicine and martial arts.After five years of military service, he returned to the city to search for his origins.Faced with flashes of knives and shadows of swords, he was decisive in killing, dominating everyone.When it came to the matters of the heart, he said, “Still… the Young Miss is the best.”

Traveling through the world of Detective Conan, Chi Feichi was sent to the hospital.

Tuesday.

Doctor: “What day is tomorrow?”

Chi Feichi: “Wednesday.”

Doctor: “Cough, tomorrow is Friday.”

Chi Feichi: “…”

August 21.

Doctor: “What day will it be tomorrow?”

Chi Feichi: “August 22nd.”

Doctor: “Cough, tomorrow is January 1st.”

Chi Feichi: “…”

When everyone thinks that the chaotic time is correct, and one of them cannot correctly identify and integrate into it, then this person is an outlier, a patient!

Once admitted to the hospital, it is as deep as the sea, and it is impossible to recover in this life.

Chi Feichi took a deep breath: “Old! Son! No! Do it!”

- 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?”