My 100-Day Secret Marriage With The Boss - Chapter 13: Capturing Her

“I’ll say it again, I’m not really a genius singer, nor a genius creator! I have no love for singing! My ideal is to be a carpenter!”

“But Mr. Xu, you have won the Grand Slam of awards, and your albums have accumulated the world’s number one sales! Your lyrics and production have won so many kings and queens with one hand! You are considered by everyone to have crushed one by yourself. era!”

“Didn’t you agree to talk about woodworking? Don’t you want to do it?”

“No, boss! But this is your TV station, you have to think about the ratings! Everyone just wants to hear how awesome you are, not your woodworking hobby! The story of being banned?…Okay, okay, can we talk about last year’s rich list? We all know that there are four Chinese women in the top 50 of the world’s richest list, all of them are single, and it is rumored that they are all single with you…”

“Actually, woodworking is very interesting, let’s talk about woodworking!”

“Why don’t we talk about An Xiaojing An Tian? Everyone is very curious. She is not married, but her three children are all surnamed Xu, and…”

- Description from novelbuddy

Gu Qingmo began to disguise herself as a man because of a word from her master.

Later, because of the words of my brother, I tried not to open my mouth if I could.

Later, I don’t know why the whole cultivation world is talking about the old master of Wanjianzong, the closed disciple of Xiaoyao Sanren, who is cold-hearted, taciturn, self-restrained and respectful, and who cultivates the ruthless way.

Mo Chuli thought so until she died in her hands.

However, since he was reborn and accepted as a disciple by Gu Qingmo, he discovered that——

Well said, cold hearted! taciturn! Self-denial!

It’s all an illusion!

Small snippet:

The day before Gu Qingmo was going to take Mo Chuli out for a training session, the headmaster made a special trip to Jianfeng and said to Mo Chuli, “Chuli, my uncle told you that if your master wants to go out in the future, you will definitely to follow.”

Mo Chuli: “Sect Master, why is this?”

Liu Qingbai: “Your master’s words are easy to offend people, so you have to keep an eye on it.”

Mo Chuli: “…”

[Woman pretending to be a man to decorate the real world’s first upright and paralyzed heroine × Seizing the house after her death was accepted by the heroine as an apprentice and the former Demon Lord hero]

ps: The female protagonist has a ceiling level of combat power, and the male protagonist is a growth type

- Description from novelbuddy

I don’t know why I die, I don’t know why I live.

Divided hunters die of loyalty,

The witch who plays with emotions dies of love,

Cautious fortune-tellers die of trust.

The thief who steals everything has nothing,

The visionary who created everything never existed.

The traveler fell on his way home,

The twilight giants rest before dawn.

Lawyers sacrifice for order,

Judges forget the law.

The sleepless sleeps in the dark,

The corpse collector lay in the coffin.

We are guardians, and a bunch of poor creatures who are constantly fighting against danger and madness.

This journey is life and death.

While drowning was inevitable, they had struggled.

This is the worst of times, this is the best of times.

- Description from novelbuddy

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?”