MTL - Black Bellied Prince’s Stunning Abandoned Consort - Chapter 884 Duel, who died first

Sui Yan was a villain, at least that’s what everyone thought.

Her childhood friend and brother said: “Sui Yan, you’ve changed and become more and more disgusting.”

Her best friend said: “Sui Yan, stay away from me. I don’t want to see you again.”

Her stepsister said: “Sui Yan, I hate you.”

Her two biological brothers said: “Sui Yan, we don’t have a sister like you.”

The one she loved the most said: “Sui Yan, I could never like someone like you.”

Sui Yan died. Even though it should have made everyone happy, it made them so heartbroken they could barely breathe.

In the blink of an eye, everyone mysteriously returned to the year Sui Yan was four years old. From then on…

As the grandmaster who founded demonic cultivation, Wei WuXian roamed the world in his wanton ways, hated by millions for the chaos he created. In the end, he was backstabbed by his dearest shidi and killed by powerful clans that combined to overpower him.

He incarnates into the body of a lunatic who was abandoned by his clan and is later, unwillingly, taken away by a famous cultivator among the sects—Lan WangJi, his archenemy.

This marks the start of a thrilling yet hilarious journey of attacking monsters, solving mysteries, and raising children. From the mutual flirtation along the way, Wei WuXian slowly realizes that Lan WangJi, a seemingly haughty and indifferent poker-face, holds more feelings for Wei WuXian than he is letting on…

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If Ke Xun could do it again, he would have never left his house to go out and flirt with guys, even if it would mean getting beaten to death.

Weren’t they supposed to have just been taking shelter from the rain in a museum and looking at some erot*c paintings while they were at it? Why…did they enter the world inside a painting?!

Mu Yiran: Every single one of us is acting out a role in the painting.

Ke Xun’s eyes lit up: How do we get into an erot*c painting?

Mu Yiran gave him a long, drawn-out look: Shut your eyes and lie down.

……………………………………………………………

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It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

—— Dickens《A Tale of Two Cities》

I made myself a ghost back to life from death, with hatred in my bones and conspiracy brewed for years, sinking into the marsh, into the abyss. All I want is to bury the rotten roots, growing thistles and thorns which can kill like upas, to stab into the hypocritical civilization.

In the bottom of the muck……I found my lucida.

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