The Substitute Bride and the Cripple

ked me. If she had meant what she said, he would get rid of that man, to ensure he was the only one left in her heart.
He had never been kind; if he was being despicable, he didn’t feel it.

Why was he being so… tolerant? “Even so, brother,” Jiang Ming pressed, “you can’t just think of yourself.
Our family’s reputation is at stake too.
What if news of Tang Qiu’s affair gets out? Everyone will know in no time.
What will happen then? Right, Dad?” He looked expectantly at the old man; his father prized the Jiang family name above all else.

Their father grunted and ordered, “Divorce her!”

“Over my dead body.” Jiang Shaocheng’s tone was hard with finality.
His gaze locked with his father’s, and the air turned searing cold.

“You…” Jiang Hanchen felt his son’s mockery, as acutely as if it had been driven into him with a knife.
“You wretch!” His hand crashed down on the table, sending the teacups flying and shattering into pieces.
His son was taunting him with the memory of his mother–of Jiang Hanchen’s own marriage.
“Your wife is having an affair, and you’re going to do nothing?”

“Of course not.” Jiang Shaocheng shook his head.
“But you two chose her for my bride, remember? So is it my fault?”

Jiang Hanchen could have choked on his fury.
He shot a glare at Jiang Ming.
“We can’t let this woman be a stain on our family’s reputation,” he declared.
“If you won’t divorce her, force her to drop out of school and stay at home, so she won’t go around spreading her legs!”

Anxiety creased Tang Qiu’s brow.
No… she couldn’t drop out.
She turned to her husband, silently begging him, Don’t say yes.
Please.
Please. A voice inside her whispered that from now on, her life would be inextricably tied to the Jiangs.

Jiang Ming–predictably–just couldn’t leave well enough alone.
“Why go to so much trouble, brother? You’re crippled; your lower body is practically useless.
You can’t satisfy her, you know that.
Even if you lock her up at home, it doesn’t mean she can’t find ways to cozy up with men.
Like your chauffeur.
Your guards.
Hell, that aide of yours who’s always lapping at your heels.
I’m not saying they’d take her up on it.
But isn’t the thought a disgusting one? She’ll make you a cuckold; it’s only a matter of time.
Trust me.
Get a divorce, and I’ll find you another wife–someone more docile whom you can keep on a leash.”

“Shut your mouth!” Tang Qiu’s knuckles had turned white in her rage.

“What’s wrong? Did I strike a nerve?”