The Substitute Bride and the Cripple

felt his forehead; it didn’t feel any hotter than usual.

“What’s wrong? Which part of you is unwell?”

“I’m fine…” Jiang Shaocheng heaved with several painful-sounding coughs.
He grasped her hand and embraced her, insisting once more that he was alright.

Goosebumps broke out over He Lei’s skin as he watched his young master don his display of fragility again, to deceive his little wife.

“You don’t sound fine.
You keep coughing.
If you’re unwell, we should go to the doctor.
Your health is still poor; you need medicine.”

“No medicine can compare to you.” His arms tightened around her.
No one was taking his wife from him!

Sensing that he was concealing his sickness to avoid having to see a doctor, Tang Qiu said angrily, “Dear, if you’re sick, you must get it treated.
How can I be a substitute for medicine? This is no joking matter.”

“If you don’t believe me, give me a kiss and try it,” he said with a straight face.

“I’m serious,” Tang Qiu insisted, filled with questions and concern all at once.
“Stop it.
Let’s go to the doctor.”

“Why? Are you thinking of kissing that man instead?”

He left her no time to respond to his cold, scathing words.
His hand snaked around her neck and pulled her in close as he forced his lips on hers, suffocating her.
Breathless and weak in the knees, Tang Qiu could only bat uselessly at his firm chest.
Just as she was beginning to feel smothered by the kiss, he broke away and released her.

He exhaled a warm breath, belying the ice in his voice.
“Remember, Tang Qiu: I am your husband.
You’re not allowed to kiss anyone but me.
And only I am allowed to kiss you!”

Gasping, Tang Qiu took a moment to calm her nerves and regain her senses.
His warning left her stunned.
“What’s the matter with you, dear?” She didn’t understand how her husband, who had always been gentle and considerate towards her, had suddenly transformed into someone completely different.

2

He Lei watched them.
The young master was finally going to let his mask fall away and reveal his true colors; the icy, brooding paranoia simmering beneath the surface.
If Tang Qiu couldn’t bear it and the two of them clashed, it would only lead to disaster–screaming, ruinous disaster.

Jiang Shaocheng forced down his emotions, like the sheathing of a cold, sharp blade.
“I missed you,” he said, pinching her cheek.

A smile broke out over Tang Qiu’s face.
She cupped his cheek.
“I missed you too, dear.”

At her soft voice, the ferocity in him melted away.
But still his tone was harsh when he asked, “Then why won’t you kiss me?”

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