The Glitched Mage - Chapter 93: Phantom Step

Wu Jin, as a trainee from a certain entertainment company, had a peerless, stunning face. He was qualified to debut as a lead performer even if he just sat there and did nothing.

Imagination is always pleasant, but reality is cruel. I just wanted a simple life but why am I always getting into trouble?

“Some connections are written long before two hearts ever meet.”Arjun never believed in fate, just another lost soul buried in the noise of textbooks and deadlines.Ayesha was a quiet storm, hiding a fragile heart behind glowing smiles and disappearing messages.They were just two strangers, separated by borders, bound by pixels on a screen.But what starts as casual texts in the dead of night slowly turns into something neither of them can explain.A bond stitched through unseen heartbeats.A love whispered through endless silences.But every heartbeat carries secrets... and some secrets are too heavy to cross the distance.When time begins slipping through Ayesha's fingers, Arjun finds himself caught between holding on or letting go.Will their hearts find each other in the silence or will destiny write their last message before they ever meet?

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?”