The Twelve Apocalypses: A Damned Soul's Path to the Abyss - Chapter 82 - 135: Young Magics

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?”

19 years old Davi, married a stranger whom she never seen at all to save her little brother. Until she found herself being bound with a certain mission. Her mission is to seduce her stone cold husband who is never romantically interested in any human being and bear his child. ____ Current Editors/proofreaders: kraycee, lov3lamb, iamconi789 Donations: https://www.paypal.me/kazzenlx

Buried alive. Forgotten by the world. Cursed to refine death itself.Rin Xie clawed his way out of his own grave with nothing but broken nails, shattered bones, and a core pulsing with rot. In a world where the heavens punish the wicked with celestial fire, where death cultivators are hunted like beasts, Rin awakens with a forbidden path—one that feeds on pain, suffering, and the ashes of the dead.He cannot heal. He cannot forget. But every wound, every betrayal, every death he witnesses becomes fuel for his ascension.Under a crimson eclipse, he walks through battlefields where spirits still scream. In deserts of bone, he consumes lotus flowers blooming from despair. He learns techniques the heavens sealed away in fear—Soul Wither Pulse, Requiem Bloom, Grief Reclamation.But the deeper he dives into death, the less human he becomes.He no longer cries for the fallen.He no longer prays for peace.He begins to wonder—what kind of death should he become?In a world where power devours morality, Rin Xie will either become the end of all things...Or something worse.

The whole life of Li Jingzhi could be concluded with one sentence: His ups and downs in life is all due to Si Luoming. When he was young, he dreamed to be a person like him…Till the end she finds that he hated her, especially when she “murdered” the one in his heart indirectly. Since then, he has never hidden his hatred for her. And then she knows her life has already been messed up all these years…