Heaven, Earth, Me - Chapter 1047: Entering [Fiery Eagle City].

Many people wish to become a character in a novel they like. Side characters are the best ones to reincarnate as. And Ceaser was the same. However, the problem is, the person he reborn as, was supposed to die at that time when Ceaser appears in the fantasy world. The childhood friend of the main heroine, who was supposed to be a stepping stone for the main lead so she can grow stronger. However, now that Ceaser was in that person’s body, naturally, he couldn’t let himself get killed just after rebirth. But what consequences will he bring by staying alive? And what awaits near the end of this story, about which even Ceaser is unaware?

Jiang Feng considered himself just an ordinary delivery guy.Until one day, a young man suddenly appeared, carefully grabbing his hand and saying, “Judge, Judge, I am the King of Hell.”“…” Jiang Feng replied, “King of Hell, King of Hell, I am also the King of Hell.”The King of Hell turned around, tearfully addressing the Black and White Impermanence, “I knew it, he’s been wanting to usurp my position for a long time!”—-“Those people all say that Heaven has the virtue of cherishing life, and tell me not to dwell on it anymore. Is it true that after people die, they don’t even have the right to appeal for justice?”“They look at life and death, I only judge right and wrong.”“Who are you?”—”The Judge.”

Lu Zhiguang is not a cannon fodder himself, but his mission is to save the miserable cannon fodder.

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?”