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Next chapter: Chapter 8
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... east and west, respectively, the distribution isn’t entirely precise. Next to the Western Marketplace is a border forest. Beyond that is the district line that separates the Western and Eastern Districts. Then there’s another stretch of forest that belongs to the Eastern District. Finally, after passing through the forest, you’ll reach the Eastern Residence.

The Southern District is located past the Eastern Marketplace. Since I’ve never been to the Southern District, and since Mr Blond alw ...

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New book 'Guarding the National Master' is being serialized. Ning Xiaoxian's comic, TV drama, and game adaptations are in progress, please look forward to it.Heavenly Dao: Shaking Heaven God is trapped in the God Demon Prison, go and rescue him.Ning Xiaoxian: Alright, I will rescue him!=====Heavenly Dao: An unparalleled demon is wreaking havoc in the Mortal World, go and cure him.Ning Xiaoxian: Alright, I will cure him!=====Heavenly Dao: Barbarians are returning to the Southern Continent, intending to replace me, go and eliminate them…Ning Xiaoxian remains silent.Heavenly Dao (breathes a sigh of relief): “What do you want?”Ning Xiaoxian: “What I want is...”

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As the owner of an ordinary bookstore, Ling PingAn’s biggest wish was to muddle through life and do absolutely nothing.

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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?”

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Mu Xiaoya lived for twenty-six years before she knew that she had a sudden genetic disease. There was no medicine for it, and there was only death waiting for her.

Before she died, many people came to see her, but she was most impressed by Bai Chuan.

Bai Chuan was her neighbor, an autistic child with scholar’s syndrome. At that time, his face full of scars was desperate: “I – I studied all your medical records, but I have no way to save you.”

Mu Xiaoya was stunned: “You are a doctor?”

Bai Chuan: “I am not… …”

Mu Xiaoya’s disease was a genetic disease. Unless the gene was changed, there was no possibility of cure. However, Bai Chuan was the only person who tried to cure her after she fell ill.

Mu Xiaoya: “Why are you going to cure me?”

Bai Chuan: “I want to marry you.”

Mu Xiaoya laughed: “If you marry me, you will soon become a widower.”

Bai Chuan insisted: “I – I want to marry you.”

Bai Chuan, who has cognitive impairments, can’t express his meaning very well, and can only repeat it over and over again.

Later, Mu Xiaoya still died. When she woke up, she returned to the summer of her college graduation.

Bai Chuan: “I… I want to marry you.”

Mu Xiaoya: “Good.”

The starlight in the eyes of Bai Chuan was the most beautiful scenery that Mu Xiaoya had ever seen in her life.

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