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... of Lady Yan. In fact, her face wasn’t even human. Her eyes were larger and wider, her nose flat and almost feline. She had odd markings on her face, and sharp teeth which seemed capable of ripping flesh off of bones. Most bizarre of all was that she had three short, blunt horns sticking out of her forehead, one in the middle and two off to either side.


Her body was still voluptuous, but upon closer examination, she was taller and larger than she had been before. She seemed more powerfu ...

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I remember the story of a novel I had read in my previous life just before my marriage. If you don’t mess up the wedding, you’ll be poisoned by your husband! So I kissed the pastor who was in charge of the ceremony.

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Huh, what?

Wait … are you the commander of the Holy Knights?

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Rurutia, who was about to die, wanted to spend her last moment in a temple where she felt at ease the most. She started a business with her friends for the temple, and it was a big hit.

“Miss, you have the world in the palm of your hands!”

“Are you a God who has descended to Earth?”

In the midst of being embarrassed by the large crown, the commander of the holy knights himself was also acting strange.

“All I wish for is to be your husband,” he said, his eyes shining with obsession. “Take responsibility for stealing my first kiss.”

This is all so wrong.

It seems that I changed my future.

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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.”

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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.”

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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.

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