MTL - My Youth Began With Him - Chapter 17 anger

This is the story of a smart and beautiful young lady Yuan, who step by step conquered Chang’an’s number one golden bachelor, and make him to go from “totally ignore” to “punching his own face every day”.

Yuan Ci Xian dreamed that she was given death by the old emperor many years later and became a bridge stone.

Waking up and remembering the fear of being under the sole of feet of others, she was determined to find a backer.

After being pointed out by a certain advisor to “cater to other people’s preference”, Yuan Ci Xian picked up the brush and wrote a love poem for the future Imperial Teacher to show her infatuation.

When Lu Shiqing saw the poem, he vomited three liters of blood, and angrily rushed into the boudoir of Yuan Mansion.

He taught her to cater to other people’s preference, but she actually thought he like poetry?

Obviously what he like is…!

- Description from Novelupdates

After the nth time of failing a marriage meeting, Xiang Han got himself a job: good treatment, high salary, free world traveling with food provided, house provided and even a ‘lover provided’?!

At first, he thought, apart from having to travel into the body of a scum cannon fodder, a scheming fake white lotus, everything else was okay. It was only later he realized that saving the target was also a problem. His imagination was neverending, even eating a cup of ramen was seen as a way to rouse his ( target’s) interest!

Xiang Han: This target is a no-go.

Certain Target: Very good, you’ve already managed to rouse my interest.

Xiang Han: Go outside and make a left turn to the optometrist, go get your eyes healed! Additionally, this “lover provided” isn’t necessary.

A Certain Target: This is certainly necessary!

- Description from novelupdates

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?”