I Might Be A Fake Cultivator - Chapter 2386 - Invincible

After the real daughter of the Jiang family fell sick, she became stupid and insisted on marrying the cold-blooded, cruel, and crippled Fu Jiu. Mother Jiang said, "So be it. She's a good-for-nothing anyway. I only asked her to marry in place of my sister." Father Jiang: "After you marry him, remember to ask 9th master to help your sister find a better marriage." The fake heiress said, "Sob, I feel so sorry for Sister, but… if you get beaten to death by the 9th master, the Fu family will compensate us a lot of money, right? I'm looking forward to it." Jiang Li sneered. She bid farewell to her hypocritical family and brought her shabby dowry to the Fu family. After having been reborn once, she knew very well that Fu Jiu was the only person who treated her well. Everyone was waiting for Jiang Li to be beaten to death. Finally, one day, she was photographed by reporters and posted online. "It's all your fault! You used so much force last night! The Jiang family is going to laugh at me again!" Fu Jiuxiao said, "With me around, no one will dare to laugh at you. Moreover, I will make them pay back tenfold for the pain that the Jiang family has caused you!"

A striking man of mysterious origin and peerless talent, he looks back at the world, in all its entirety, with utter disdain. And yet, in the treacherous and unpredictable ultimate formation of the Boundless Secular World, he guards a breathtaking ancient qin with broken strings, waiting silently for the destined one to arrive!

Let someone else go to war, you, lucky Austria, go get married! What the god of war can give you, the god of love can also give you.

The smoke of the Napoleonic Wars has dissipated, and the Vienna system that once brought peace to Europe is riddled with holes. Beneath the seemingly peaceful appearance, there is a vortex of the times with undercurrents, the tranquility before the storm.

The air is filled with the steaming mist of sweat, and the choking black smoke makes it hard to breathe. On the elegant dining table, a group of soldiers and fat men in suits are pushing each other, feasting on the feast called the world, hanging on the wall Van Gogh’s self-portrait with waltz in his ears.

Suddenly the music turned into a march, and the picture also turned to the battlefield. Soldiers marched in a neat line, walking towards the machine gun barbed wire.

A shell fell on the ground, and after the smoke passed, countless cavalry rushed to the artillery position.

Accompanied by a loud noise, a wooden plane flew close to the ground, then pulled up rapidly, broke through the clouds, and shone brightly.

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