Everyone Has Four Skills - Chapter 537 - : Blood Light Soaring into the Sky

Yan Sagawa is the top academic master in the world of Conan, known as a national treasure talent.

No one knows that he is actually a time traveler, carrying the most powerful Xueba system.

But he also has troubles recently, and he has awakened a second system — the Great Onmyoji system.

Whether to believe in science and become the father of all mankind or believe in theology to become the god who controls reincarnation, this is a question

. . .

After thinking for a long time, he decided that he wanted them all!

Conan: This is impossible murder! Is there really a ghost?

Sagawa Yan looked at the shikigami flying in the sky and smiled without saying a word.

Kidd: What kind of magic is this, how could you hide it from my eyes.

Sagawa said: This is science, you scumbag

- Description from novelbuddy

He had served in the strongest Special Forces, Heavenly Sword Special Force. As the commando of commandos, he created the Netherworld in the western underground world and became the formidable Oriental Yama. He said, “I’m Liu Feng. I’m adept at two things: killing and saving. If I want to cure someone, even ghost soldiers can’t take him away; if I want to kill someone, God can’t save him.” Now he was the bodyguard of Yang Shiwen, who was the daughter of the richest family in Donghai City and suffered from a rare disease. Could Liu Feng save Yang Shiwen’s life with his amazing art of healing? What would happen to his double life?

Su Wen transmigrated and became the Prime Minister’s son, possessing both power and money.

Tang Qiu was a substitute bride–forced to take her half-sister’s place and marry the young master of the Jiang family, a deformed cripple with less than 6 months left to live.

“Who would have thought that even a sickly whelp like Jiang Shaocheng would find himself a bride?”

“I hear that he’s practically on his deathbed and he’s only marrying the Fengs’ daughter to improve his lifespan.”

Tang Qiu ignored the whispers around her and focused on her husband-to-be, who coughed violently in his wheelchair. At the altar, after they had said their vows, she lifted her veil and knelt in front of Jiang Shaocheng, pressing a hesitant kiss to his lips.

The marriage contract was signed. No matter his physical deformities, he was now her husband.

She wasn’t afraid of the scars that marked his face, nor was she repulsed by him being confined to a wheelchair. Every morning, she made him breakfast, attended to his needs, and thought of little else beyond her duties as a wife.

“Young Master Jiang is a cripple who can’t get it up,” her best friend argued. “When he dies, you’ll still be untouched. You should set your sights higher.”

“A sickly invalid like Jiang Shaocheng can’t give you happiness,” her ex-boyfriend insisted. “I’ll wait for you.”

But Young Master Jiang only scoffed. “I have plenty of time left to be with her.”

Later in their marriage, Jiang Shaocheng wanted to enjoy his little wife in all ways–the press of her lips against his, the brush of skin on skin; the way a husband and wife were supposed to. But Tang Qiu refused him, blushing. “No, we can’t. The doctor says you can’t exert yourself.”

Jiang Shaocheng’s desire was surging through him, a heat in his core that demanded to be satiated. He cursed, I should have gotten rid of that doctor and the wheelchair long ago.

But he yearned to make love to his little wife, and so he revealed his true identity. In the blink of an eye, the deformed cripple transformed into a powerful businessman–tall, dark, and handsome. He quieted Tang Qiu’s protests, his body positioned over hers, his arms caging her as she lay on the bed. His voice was low when he asked, “What about now?”