PREVIEW

... this week, Qiao Yuchu and Zhou Mu would come to accompany her whenever they had time. Talking, Yan Xinyuan often came to deliver meals to her.

Jian Changnian knew that he paid for the medical expenses in advance, and he also picked up her own life. On the first day she was able to walk on the ground, she had to kneel down to thank someone, and Yan Xinyuan helped her up.

"Son, this can't be done."

There were tears in Jian Changnian's eyes.

"Without you, I don't know i ...

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[Complete book is free] Ji Zhao, the descendant of the royal chef, is in the book! Became the cannon fodder ex-wife of the male protagonist in the first supplementary novel that she wrote a bad review on?

Vanity is vulgar and extremely vicious! Cuckold the male lead, bully the male lead’s family, and finally end up crazy!

Ji Zhao, who opened the plug-in, said that these are all small scenes, so don’t panic!

Let’s see her use grilled fish, snails, barbecue skewers… and countless other delicacies to turn the tables against the wind and reverse the situation strongly!

Picking up pheasants, picking up duck eggs, and catching fat fish, you will be lucky!

Build a house, open a shop, buy a house, and live happily ever after!

Smiling, Ji Zhao took countless money and prepared to do nothing, but found that the future chief assistant was getting closer and closer?

“You, you… why are you getting closer and closer?”

“Silly lady, I am your husband!”

“It’s just the ex-husband!” Ji Zhao said, poking his neck.

“Oh?”

The next day, Ji Zhao cried violently and kept begging for mercy.

“I was wrong, Master Chief Assistant!”

“Call me my husband!”

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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?”

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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.

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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.

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“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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