Rewrite Our Love? Too Late - Chapter 38: Eriri Is an Idiot

My name is Joo In-gong. The name that my parents gave me meant ‘protagonist’ of the world. Really?

Yan Heng never thought that he would become a stray dog ​​with disabled legs. No one wanted to look at him, even the woman he loved avoided him. Jiang Wanying, who he used as a stand-in, appeared in front of him in a wheelchair.

She took him to see a doctor and brought him home. She was his salvation and the only warmth in his dark memory.

But her disability and face injury were all because of him.

——When she was pushed to the cliff, he chose another woman without hesitation.
Fortunately, she lost her memory at this moment, and everything can be salvaged.
Note: Yan Heng is not a male protagonist.

Content Labels: Rebirth Face Slap System Modern Overhead
Search keywords: Protagonist: Jiang Wanying ┃ Supporting role: “I am a salted fish after dressing as a wise woman [Quick Cross]” ┃ Others: Finish the text search column~
One-sentence introduction: a surrogate female supporting role, raising a dog to debut
Intention: self-improvement, great virtue

- Description from novelbuddy

“You mean that Prince Yu wants to marry me?”

“Exactly, young master, Prince Yu wants to marry you!”

“Hell no! Is he out of his mind? Even if woman is a rare species nowadays, as the prince, he could have a chance to marry one. Is it because he got excluded, or maybe he has sexual impotence, so he could only marry a man?”

“No, Prince Yu is charming, majestic, endowed with civil and martial virtues, and also in perfect health.”

“Then why would he marry me?”

“Maybe because of your reputation out there.”

“Reputation? Am I quite famous?”

“Of course. Young master, you’re far-famed.”

“Really? What did they say about me?”

“They said you are ugly, good-for-nothing, short-lived, a freak, with no morals, and shameless…”

…

- Description from Novelupdates

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.