MTL - The Mad Cultivator - Chapter 17 Out of the temple

Take you to appreciate the wonderful life in the world of film and television……

“Love in a Courtyard”, “Golden Years”, “Ode to Joy”, etc.

- Description from novelbuddy

“After every fire, ants survive.”

…

Mysterious anomalous biological metals have polluted the world, and the world has undergone tremendous changes. Metal sickness is like a key that opens the door to evolution. Under the tide of evolution, there are no innocents.

The choice is up to you, do you want to be the surviving ants after the fire, or do you want to risk your life, step on the glorious long steps to the gods, and glimpse the supreme glory of the mother goddess?

…

Touch the totem in your heart, follow the inspiration, and step on the long steps of ascending to God:

[Amphibians] → [Atlantic Glory] → [Ningen]…

[Eight Arms] → [Nightmare in the Sea] → [Deep Divers]…

[Eagle Eye] → [Owl Ghost of the Night] → [Jersey Demon]…

[Living Dead] → [Grave Digger] → [Death Ferryman]…

…

“On that day, the world was polluted, and I was the source of pollution. Human desires are endless, desire is the best food on the way to evolution, and I am the embodiment of desire.”

– Joe Tour.

- 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?”