My Demon Husband Is a Snake

Chapter 1080: Height Enhancement Technique

This person is quite well-dressed and rather delicate-looking.

He has an air of scholarly elegance from a noble family, but unfortunately, his height is only 1.4 meters.

The height of a Hobbit ruins everything, making him seem somewhat sleazy no matter what he does.

"You want to grow taller, huh? Your bone age has fused; the price you pay won’t be small." The man sat casually on an old green-painted wooden chair by the window, yet he appeared more regal than an emperor in a palace.

With this comparison, the short, wealthy man seemed even more insignificantly lowly in front of him. "No matter how much you want, as long as it’s effective, I’ll pay you immediately."

"Three million." The man’s thin lips parted lightly.

The short man squinted shrewdly, "Even a surgery to increase height only costs eight hundred thousand."

"Then go for it, if you’re not afraid of becoming disabled." The man said indifferently, a cold smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

The short man asked doubtfully, "Does your method have no side effects?"

"Zero side effects." The man replied concisely.

I couldn’t help but be shocked on the side; there have never been art techniques in the Mystic Sect to increase the height of those with fused bone age.

Even Yu Longting couldn’t perform such defiant transformations.

However, when he pointed out feng shui for the wonton stall owner, he used everything Yu Longting had learned and known.

Is it true that he has such great abilities, or is he just scamming people for money?

The short man’s feelings were probably the same as mine, his eyes darting around for a good while.

Gritting his teeth, he decided, "Use people with trust, doubt people don’t. I’ll trust you this time."

"Su Wan, lend me your White Jade Hairpin for a moment." The man’s lowered gaze looked at me, with a tenderness that could melt spring snow in his eyes.

My heart skipped a beat, and obediently, I took off the jade hairpin and handed it to the man.

With the jade hairpin, he carved a Snake Seal into his palm, then tossed the hairpin onto the table.

Squeezing the golden blood from the wound into a teacup, the blood dissolved in the tea, turning the faint tea into a pale golden color, "Drink up."

Without a word, the short man grabbed the teacup and gulped down the tea.

He didn’t even consider whether he might be fooled by some evil arts, nor did he worry about the blood being poisonous.

With a determined expression, it was likely he had been troubled by his height issue for far too long.

"It hurts... my legs hurt a lot... like needles piercing into the joints." The short man, wincing in pain, accidentally dropped and shattered the teacup, collapsing to the ground with a sharp cry.

The man held the teapot, drinking slowly, indifferent to the short man’s plight.

The short man, writhing on the ground in agony, took out his phone, seemingly trying to dial a number.

But the phone slipped from his hand, and his entire skeleton seemed to grow wildly like chives at night.

Visibly, his finger bones, neck bones, arms, and legs were all extending...

Compared to when I cured the aftereffects of the Blood-weeping Syndrome, this person only took half an hour.

He grew from 1.4 meters to nearly 1.7 meters.

The suit and trousers he wore were all bursting at the seams.

He was drenched in sweat, likely feeling half-tormented to death.

Without resting for three to five days, recovery would be difficult.

Yet this man entered a state of inexplicable excitement, using my tailored soft ruler, measuring himself again and again in front of the dressing mirror.

His eyes shone with excitement, though slightly dejected at the tape measure, "It would’ve been nice to grow to 1.8 meters; at nearly 1.7 meters, I’m still considered third-degree disabled in the eyes of those snobbish women."

"Pay up." The man commanded coldly, looking down at the now-bright-eyed, former shorty.

When he frowned, an unmatched authority seemed to emanate from him.

Even wearing women’s clothes would not evoke a trace of disdain.

That former shorty should have already known the account details, took out his phone to transfer the money, hesitated momentarily, and couldn’t help but ask, "Master, will you really transfer it all to your madam? Don’t you keep some for yourself?"