Ling Yue was the most formidable farm owner for hundreds of miles around the small mountain village—tall, powerful, and utterly bursting with wild charisma, boasting eight-pack abs. Under his care, every head of livestock he raised was muscular and perfectly plump.
Despite the countless maidens in the village sending him furtive glances, he remained oblivious, his lack of interest driving Old Madam Ling into a fretful frenzy. The children of Ling Yue’s peers were already running through the fields, yet her own grandson hadn’t even given her a great-grandchild. The village gossip was growing increasingly unpleasant.
Without a word, Old Madam Ling grabbed a young woman and stuffed her into Ling Yue’s room, intent on forcing them to ‘cook the rice until it was done.’
Ling Yue, his face a mask of cold indifference, smashed the door open with his fist. “Go back where you came from! Get away from me!”
Jiang Rou’s eyes were slightly red. Her delicate, pale fingers tugged at the rough fabric of the man’s jacket. “Please don’t send me away, alright?”
The young woman was exquisitely alluring, her moist, gleaming lips slightly parted. The sight of her sent a wave of heat surging through Ling Yue.
After that day, the cold, taciturn Ling Yue transformed completely.
“Wifey, come here and give me a kiss.”
“Wifey, just one hug under the blankets.”
His soul had been utterly ensnared by the young woman. He proceeded to cherish and spoil her to the high heavens.
