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... the head .

Since their battle with the demons that attempted to sacrifice the Holy Woman Hermie, Yuzuha would sometimes lean on his shoulders, maybe because she was not feeling too well .

"Your companion does not seem to be feeling well . "

"She's saying she's OK, though . It doesn't look like she has a fever either, so I'll just keep an eye on her for now . "

Leaving Hermie to Wilhelm's care, Shin and Schnee had gone to meet Berett at Balmel's Golden Company, as they n ...

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The fallen Sky Knight was the sky's tears,and with altitude still at hand, he wouldn't give up,Blood and Fire and Iron descended from the heavens,Behold, the heavens were crying!The roaring soul was rising through the sky!!!

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That year, the basketball god retired forever.

That year, the four giants of the City of Angels, which shocked the world, came to the fore.

That year, the little emperor entered the hometown team with unparalleled talent.

That year, the son of planes, the great magician, the corrector of order… plunged into this era when the opponent was like a wolf like a tiger.

Come, come, stand in line one by one… How am I going to carry out this delightful torture (× crossed out)

My dream is just to heal your wounded hearts, yes, this is a homophonic stalk. – Liu Xiu.

The introduction is weak, I will see it later.

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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?”