Yichuan Yancao
Crossing Qinghuan
The man I was to marry was a young general who had lost the use of his legs.
Rumor had it that he suffered from an unspeakable ailment and didn’t have long to live.
Later, behind the bed curtains, I discovered just how vigorous he truly was. Face burning, I shouted, “Stop bullying me!”
The man laughed hoarsely and caught my hand. “Then how about Qingqing bullies me this time?”
