Soul Emperor Martial God - Chapter 857: The Fog Demon Submits

Carrying the strongest reading system through the world of the Tang Dynasty and becoming a scholar who has just been awarded the jinshi, Chen Qi found that the Tang Dynasty was a bit strange.

The champion is Chen Guangrui, who has just been hit with a hydrangea by the daughter of the left prime minister Yin Kaishan, and is about to counterattack and marry Bai Fumei.

A physicist named Yuan Shoucheng came to the gate of the city. He had three hexagrams a day, and he liked golden carp the most.

In addition, he also heard that Wei Zheng, the Prime Minister of the Right, can kill ghosts and gods in a dream…

Chen Qi was completely panicked.

As soon as you talk about the strategy to destroy the Buddha, you tell me this is Journey to the West?

King Tang was displeased, suppressed by hundreds of officials, and distributed to the Hanlin Academy?

It’s okay, hide in the small building and become a united, who cares about his winter and summer and spring and autumn!

Sixty years later, when Li Tang took a curtain call, the empress ascended the throne, and asked me to come out of the mountains and settle the world.

Since then, the heaven will return to the heaven, the world will return to the world, and the monks in the west can only go to the west.

- Description from novelbuddy

Framed by her so-called best friend and half-sister, Su Qianxun stumbled upon a strange man when she was making her escape. A strange man so handsome it looked as if his face was carved by the Gods, but with a heart as cold as stone. A wild and fiery night ensued, and ever since then, they embarked on a journey filled with passion, lust, conspiracy and treachery.

A top hacker was chosen by the Lord God to be reborn into countless worlds, always as an expendable villain.

With no free will, every world became a dead end. Every one of his lives ended tragically.

Finally, after wrestling control of the Villain System, this ace hacker decided to enact revenge. Even if his very bones were rotten, he’d choose to occupy the very heights of morality, if only on the surface.

Thus, he would change his fate as an abused slag.

Vincent van Gogh, the painter who refused to be an accessory Of power and painted with his soul at the tip of a brush, was not understood by anyone and had to die like a madman, and he woke up in 21st century Korea.

Like a wheat field melted with gold, like a sunflower that swallowed the sun, a dazzling painter once again takes the brush.