I Married a Disabled Tyrant After Transmigrating: 7|Seven dragons

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Mr. Long tried his best to suppress the curse in his body. Listening to the man in his ear talking about his plans for the future, he finally regained a trace of consciousness and seemed to be a little blurry again.

Did he hear wrongly?

He must have heard wrongly. In his current state, how could this cheap wife who came to celebrate his wedding not mind at all? I was crying a few days ago, why has it changed so quickly?

Mr. Long tried his best to suppress the strange feelings rising in his heart, expecting and fearing, and trying his best to brainwash himself:

Impossible, he is a useless dragon, his tail is rotten and his horns are missing, and his body is covered with curse marks. He is so ugly and smells so bad, how could she not dislike him.

Even when he was at his best, no one ever treated him sincerely. This person must have some ulterior motive to approach him...

I just fed him some porridge, so gentle, I guess I was just pretending.

Although the tyrant didn’t know what benefit Mu Wanwan’s pretense would do to her, even he himself didn’t know what else he had to plot against now.

My cultivation level was almost sealed. I was cursed. The most precious horns and the tip of my tail were gone. After the defeat, all my property was confiscated. My rights were all lost because I trusted the wrong person. I insist on saying that. If there was anything valuable on him, it was probably the original nucleus that was broken into several pieces.

Oh, if the bones are cooked into soup, it should taste good, but I don’t know if the curses of the abyss monsters are engraved on the bones.

Mr. Long thought a little sarcastically, but no matter what he thought, Mu Wanwan didn't know. She detailed the difficulties of her future life bit by bit, and carefully calculated how to allocate her monthly salary reasonably. Her voice was very soft, like The all-pervasive fire melted Mr. Long's hard-earned defenses bit by bit.

"Now in the middle of October, the monthly schedule is only a little, and the spiritual rice is not much." Mu Wanwan was counting the three meals a day in the future, and suddenly thought of something, and suddenly reached out and touched Mr. Long's exposed penis. Regarding the abdomen, I felt relieved after confirming that apart from the tight abdominal muscles, there was only a little bit of deflation there.

Her movements were actually very light, but the delicate touch with some body temperature suddenly came to Mr. Long, who had never had close contact with anyone except fighting, but it was like several roaring fireworks, carrying A numbing current stunned him.

She touched him!

With only one thought left in his mind, Mr. Long waited for a long time before hearing her next words——

"It's a bit deflated, so it probably didn't hurt my stomach." Mu Wanwan said to himself, "You can eat other things as well, but I don't know what the packet of seeds is. It would be nice if it was vegetables. ......."

Are you making sure his stomach is okay?

A strange feeling slowly arose in my heart. The tyrant's eyelashes trembled, and he explained silently in his heart that his belly was deflated when he was in half-dragon form, which was different from other dragons.

When I was a child, I didn’t have enough to eat. As I grew up, my stomach became smaller.

The not-so-pleasant memory was accompanied by the itching and pain of the dragon's tail. The monster's curse seemed to have had a chance to take advantage of it, and it continued to wreak havoc on the tyrant's limbs and bones.

Mr. Long tried his best to suppress the pain in his meridians, his face was pale and he was sweating profusely.

Mu Wanwan noticed that his brows were frowning more tightly than usual. His eyes touched the black bugs that were constantly coming in and out of his half-rotted dragon tail, and his scalp felt numb.

"Does it hurt?" She cheered herself up and said, "I'll help you right away."

Mu Wanwan stood up a little hastily. She remembered that there were some knives and gauze in the side hall. The wound on Mr. Long's tail could not be dragged away, and some hot water was needed.

But her messy footsteps and breathing were like sharp swords, shattering the tyrant's newly raised expectations.

She was really pretending.

Listen to her scared tone.

She was probably frightened by his appearance. What she said before was indeed just an act!

The tyrant sneered in his heart. He could feel some pus, accompanied by **** scales, constantly flowing out of the terrifying tail. The black and red curse kept rising and falling, which was disgusting.

He felt sick, so why should he have any expectations?