He tricked his amnesiac partner into becoming crippled.

Chapter 109 My 23 Things About My Grandmaster (Part 32)

Mo Zhu was dressed in a snow-white, straight-collared long robe, with a wide belt of moon-white auspicious cloud patterns around his waist. His whole demeanor was refined and dignified, like a noble person from the heavens who was unattainable.

But at this moment, the nobleman was leaning against the door, his frail body breathing slowly, the white square scarf covering his face rising and falling slightly.

He appeared to be partially paralyzed, but his eyes held a dangerous smile as he stared intently at her.

Wen Yan swallowed nervously.

I didn't do anything wrong, but I just feel inexplicably guilty.

"Wen Xiaoyan."

Mo Zhu slightly closed her eyelids, her voice soft and slow, like a snowflake that had just fallen and was about to melt.

"I'm here!"

Wen Yan felt a pang of sympathy and quickly stepped forward to support him, letting him lean on her, completely ignoring the awkward and helpless man standing in the courtyard.

Mo Zhu was pleased. He secretly raised his eyebrows, wrapped his arms around her slender waist, pressed her against him, buried his head in her neck, looking haggard and helpless.

Where Wen Yan couldn't see, he gave Cui Yuan a deep look, then quickly looked away, his tone low and somber:

"Wen Xiaoyan, you really don't know how to help people up. I always have to do it myself."

As he spoke, he pulled her hand to his waist, his strong, slender waistline pressed against her hot palm, making half of her face flush red.

"No, no, there are people here."

Wen Yan felt awkward. It was fine to be intimate in private, but she was inevitably shy in front of outsiders.

"Heh, so someone forbids me from doing this? Or is it that you, Wen Xiaoyan, really want to find another good husband? What, I'm not even really dead yet, and he's already waiting to be appointed?"

Mo Zhu glanced at him sideways.

"Look, they've already brought the betrothal gifts; they're really eager to get started."

The veiled sarcasm and the hidden grievances.

Mo Zhu's drooping eyelashes trembled, as if he were truly terminally ill and would collapse at the slightest breeze.

Wen Yan immediately fell silent.

When has Mo Zhu ever felt so wronged?

It's all her fault... not all his fault, the culprit standing there is Cui Yuan!

"What do you mean by this, Young Master Cui! Get out of here with your people and your things! My husband is doing very well and will surely live a long life, accompanying me year after year. Are you cursing him with your unseemly eating habits?"

Wen Yan's expression turned cold, and she looked at Cui Yuan as if he were a jinx; her voice was so cold it was almost icy.

Cui Yuan, finally able to get a word in edgewise, cried out, "Madam Wen..."

"Shut up, stop trying to claim kinship. How dare you call her Madam Wen?"

Cui Yuan awkwardly stopped talking and changed his form of address: "Miss Wen, I..."

"Shut up, who is this Miss Wen!"

Cui Yuan was incredulous; this man was incredibly rude.

But when she caught a glimpse of Mo Zhu leaning lazily against Wen Yan, her anger turned into embarrassment, an embarrassment that made her want to crawl into a cellar.

He knew it was incredibly impolite to propose to someone whose husband hadn't passed away, but it was the only option he had.

The mistress couldn't tolerate these illegitimate sons and daughters, so how could the women she placed in her room be any good?

Cui Yuan smiled bitterly; his marriage was destined to be an insignificant move in the political struggle.

Leaving may not be helpful, but not leaving will definitely not work.

Even she wasn't someone he liked; she was just the most suitable and had the greatest value.

When she saved him before, she only needed one move to defeat hundreds of enemy elites!

In this muddy situation, only she can save him from his predicament. As for status and honor, he will give her whatever he can, as long as it is within his power.

Cui Yuan gave a bitter smile. "This young lady, I, Cui..."

“I don’t want to hear it. Let my husband come.”

Cui Yuan looked at Mo Zhu with a good temper, appearing magnanimous and tolerant, as if Wen Yan was just being petty and he was indulging her.

She!

Mo Zhu clicked his tongue softly, clearly annoyed.

What a joke! He's not dead yet, why would we let him run wild?

Mo Zhu lifted her eyelids and looked at him.

Quiet, deathly quiet.

A few beads of sweat appeared on Cui Yuan's forehead, and his throat seemed to have lost its voice; he tried to say something but couldn't.

He barely brushed past his gaze, embarrassed to look him in the eye.

That is a purgatory that melts the absolute abyss, seemingly calm on the surface but churning with evil spirits within.

His male intuition warned him that this man was absolutely, absolutely, absolutely dangerous!

They are not to be trifled with, nor can they be messed with.

"Young Master Cui...?" Mo Zhu nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the dozen or so betrothal gifts, a half-smile playing on his lips. "I heard you want to be Wen Xiaoyan's stephusband?"

He scanned him up and down, his gaze sharp and merciless:

“Not qualified.”

Cui Yuan felt as if a thousand swords were piercing his heart: ...

Mo Zhu watched him grit his teeth, angry but not daring to speak out.

Cui Yuan tried to win back some ground: "I was born into a family of military generals. I do not think I have achieved much in martial arts, but I am in good health."

Does this mean I'll die young?

Mo Zhu's eyes turned cold. "Then you've really hit the snake where it hurts."

The dark crimson demonic energy silently coiled around Cui Yuan, threatening to strangle him in the next second. Just then, a hand covered him, pressing down on his pale white finger bones to extinguish the restless demonic energy.

"Mo Zhu, we can't kill him this way."

Mo Zhu's killing methods are so unique that anyone with a brain can recognize them. After all, the sight of chunks of flesh and blood is enough to make anyone feel disgusted for a lifetime.

This is how the Demon Palace Elder was finely chopped into minced meat. Now, if we kill this person... uh, along with all the servants in the same courtyard, it'll be too easy to expose us.

Wen Yan's worry was obvious. Mo Zhu reluctantly extinguished his demonic energy and buried his face in her neck, refusing to look at her.

Although I understand, I'm still angry.

Wen Yan poked him helplessly: "Aren't you going to care about me anymore?"

"Never mind." Mo Zhu clicked his tongue lightly. "You have plenty of ideas."

This is such a hassle. Wouldn't it be better to just collect them into my soul, kill them all, and feed them to the earth?

They keep jumping around, trying to steal his Daoist partner; it's annoying to watch.

The two whispered amongst themselves, which outsiders couldn't hear clearly, but Cui Yuan had sharp ears and only listened for the key points, immediately catching the words "don't care".

His eyes lit up; there was hope!

He said earnestly, "I consider myself to be of good character, kind and righteous, handsome and healthy, and fit for... well, this young lady is more than qualified."

“If you truly care about this young lady, you should choose a good man to entrust her to…”

Cui Yuan's confidence returned, and his commanding presence made it seem as if everything was under his control.

"Most importantly, this young lady is not yet of marriageable age, so your brother must have had some reservations and therefore has not..." shared a room with her?

Huh? Why did you lose your voice?

Cui Yuan touched his neck, horrified.

"Let me tell you why," a cold voice murmured.

"It's simple, you're not capable of protecting her."

With that, he flicked his sleeve, and the towering tree in the courtyard collapsed with a crash, along with more than a dozen betrothal gifts that were blown away.

Mo Zhu sneered: "Do you expect her to charge into battle when danger comes, while you cower behind her seeking protection?"

Cui Yuan, who did indeed have this idea: ...!! (Angry like a cat whose foot has been stepped on)

"Oh right, and most importantly, you're ugly."

Cui Yuan's head was buzzing; he only heard the last two words: unbelievable.

He said he's ugly???

Mo Zhu suppressed the urge to kill him and swept the fool and his servants away.

Then she looked down at his small hand, which was clasped in hers, and squeezed it gently as if to please him.

He raised an eyebrow coldly, as if to say, "You think that's enough?"

Is Mo Zhu really that easy to fool?

Mo Zhu looked at her intently, seemingly thinking of something interesting. His thin lips moved as he spoke, hidden beneath a white handkerchief, so Wen Yan couldn't see him clearly.

But then he said:

"Wen Xiaoyan, you wait."