Lord of the Truth - Chapter 367 Three Individuals

In the middle of the night, looking at the woman in his embrace, he smiled devilishly, “With your discontentment, do you want me to continue?”

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?”

How does it feel to lose your parents at the tender age of four?Imagine the trauma, the psychological scars. Now, take it a step further—what if they died right in front of you?That was Kael’s reality. As a young boy, he watched his parents perish while desperately protecting a golden coin.At the time, Kael had no idea of its significance. He only knew that their deaths were tied to it.Fleeing from his father’s murderers, he was forced to survive on the unforgiving streets, learning to fight, steal, and endure.Twelve years later, he had transformed into one of the deadliest assassins the world had ever known.He had no official title. No known employer. No traceable identity. Just a calling card.They called him The Coin Flipper.Not because he left his mark, but because after every kill—just as the body hit the ground, as the last breath escaped—he would flip a coin.No one knew why. Some believed it was mockery, a cruel reminder that fate had turned against them. Others thought it was ritual.But what they didn’t know was that each coin held power—literal currency of the Core System embedded in Kael’s soul.Every kill earned him millions. Digital fortunes funneled into off-grid accounts with each confirmed target. Blood turned into bounty, pain into profit.And one thing was certain: if you saw the glint of a coin spinning through the air, death had already found you.