MTL - The Rise of Space Technology - Chapter 189 , much simpler than building an aircraft carrier

After retiring from the National Team, Qi Yue devoted herself to the study of agriculture.At a certain gathering, someone instigated a challenge, proposing that whoever lost at the shooting game would have to be kissed by Qi Yue.Seeing Qi Yue in the test fields, carrying a hoe, covered in mud and planting potatoes without any care for her appearance, turned everyone’s faces green with unease.Everyone scrambled to aim for the bullseye, terrified of being penalized.The final result was that the male god of University A, Gu Huai, raised his hand and shot a zero.The second time they met, Gu Huai was being maliciously provoked and overwhelmed at the Fencing Gym.Qi Yue couldn't stand by and was compelled to intervene.The third time they met, Gu Huai was homeless on the streets.Qi Yue spent all her living expenses for three months to help him.Years later.Qi Yue looked at the world shooting records certificate, the fencing championship trophy, and the dozen or so real estate certificates, all bearing Gu Huai's name, and fell into deep thought: “......”

A mysterious car accident caused her to be bedridden for three years.

After Ning Qing woke up, she learned two things.

One was that her elder twin sister had died in a car accident three years ago.

The other was that she had already married someone.

Her husband was Nian Lie, the eldest son of the Yan family who owned the biggest conglomerate in Yan City.

He treated her as a substitute for her elder sister. While he put her through torture, he would tell her that he loved her with reddened eyes.

Initially, Ning Qing wanted to divorce him, but later on, she indulged in his ambiguous love.

Until she stood outside the wedding venue where he was about to marry another woman.

Her heart was dead. Nothing was worth holding back anymore.

She wanted to escape, but she was unwilling to let him live the rest of his life peacefully.

Hence, under the reporters’ flashing lights, she stepped onto the bridge and jumped off with her nearly due baby…

After seeking pleasure in the nightclub and a night of romance, he discovered there’s a seed in his stomach;

“Y-young master, the Lord is requesting your presence.”

I looked at myself in the mirror as a maid's voice, laced with trepidation, reached my ears.

“Tell him I'll be there shortly.”

“I understand, y-young master.”

I paid no mind to her quivering presence, my gaze fixed on my reflection.

And this is exactly why I despise this character, Yes, He is a villain with my name but does it matter, no, the problem is this guy's weight he is so heavy that this tub of lard is weighing me down, literally.

For someone who prides themselves on muscle, nothing's worse than “fat,” and this guy before me? Well, he's a prime example of that.

“I suppose I need a workout.”

Reaching the door, exhaustion gripped me and I found myself gasping for breath. It was unbelievable – this body was so darn heavy.

After an arduous struggle, I finally made my way out of the room, causing servants carrying a litter¹ to scurry over. They lowered it, creating a path for me to step onto it.

I tried to ignore the spectacle – it was this pampering that turned this fatty into a giant tire. Pushing the annoyance aside, I began to move, managing only about 10 steps before my legs gave out.

Damn it. Seriously? I collapsed, leaving the twenty servants to hastily lift me and place me onto the litter. For me, it felt more like a stretcher. There I was, sprawled on it like some mountain, panting heavily.

“You damn god! I hope the protagonist of your favorite novel gets NTRed!”

“We're here, young master.”

Can you believe it? his father's office is just thirty steps away from this pumpkin room, yet he insists on using a litter.

“Give me a hand.”

I ordered while cursing this hefty body under my breath.

“Oh, come, come, my dear child. How was your day?”

I glanced at the middle-aged man, his face exuding warmth and care.

As for my feelings? This old man right here is the reason this chubby exists. Not that I give a darn about my indulgent father.

“I'm alright, Dad.”

Yes, imagine this: as a noble, this old man spoiled this pumpkin so much that he thinks he can go around scolding the mansion's maids and servants.

“Take a seat. Hey, fetch his chair!”

You might wonder why he doesn't sit on a regular chair. Well, that's because the chair is custom-made to accommodate this hippo-sized frame.

“What's going on, Dad?”

Seriously, why would he summon this big old hippo over to his quarters? There's gotta be a reason for it....

“Your fiancee is coming tomorrow”

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