The Invincible Son-in-law of the Tang Dynasty

My sister looks good. If you want, please update it soon. Maybe if I tell my sister, you can leave our fff group.

Author, do you know, in fact, no one reads your book at all. All other accounts except me are my trumpets. When I give my order, they will all deduct 666 (eye hint)

Let's not talk about the author's writing. As long as Mr. Chuan embodies the ironclad strength of our Chinese people, it is worth promoting this masterpiece. I hope the author will continue to work hard and update it soon. I look forward to it... Come on... Come on...

I still like you very much, just like the wind that has traveled eight thousand miles without asking about the date of return. I still like you very much, just like the cycle of the sun and the moon, regardless of day and night. I still like you very much, like a cloud drifting ninety thousand miles without ever resting. I still like you very much, just like stars hitting the earth until death. I still like you very much, like sunshine filling the world, gentle and comfortable. I still like you very much, like the wind blowing in my heart. I still like you very much, like rain falling on the tropics and polar regions, thousands of miles away. I still like you very much, like a whale sinking at the bottom of the sea breathing softly, full of infatuation and full of anger. I still like you very much, like the old city gate that I have been waiting for for many years. I still like you very much, like a whale suffering from lack of oxygen in the deep sea of ​​6,400 meters, never getting tired of it. I still like you very much, just like the subjects waiting for the restoration of the dynasty, which is far away. I still like you very much, the willows are moving, the cicadas are chirping, the sunset is tidal, I can't help myself. I still like you very much, like a cloud drifting ninety thousand miles without ever resting. I still like you very much, like the sun rises and sets, no matter day or night. I still like you very much, just like the stars running through the dark night for hundreds of millions of years without complaining. I still like you very much, like spring rain falling for eight hundred miles, pattering. I still like you very much, like spring grass dyeing the green ridge, there is no doubt. I still like you very much, you are like a shrew, scolding and unreasonable. I still like you very much, just like the rain falling on the green leaves all night long, without hesitation. I still like you very much, just like the falling rain during the plum rain season, it lasts forever. I still like you very much, just like the smoke curling up from the kitchen, the pear frying in the snow and the rain falling. I still like you very much, like a bird falling in love with a fish in the sea. It's hard to decide whether to stay or go. I don't know why. I still like you very much, like a noisy secret that can be said in a thousand words. I still like you very much, just like the begonia in the courtyard that falls and blooms again and again. I still like you very much, just like the sun and the moon take turns, regardless of day and night. I still like you very much, like layers of clouds condensed into phrases, bit by bit. I still like you very much, like the twinkling stars in the night sky, the neon blur. I still like you very much, like the osmanthus leaves falling in the wind and turning into mud. I still like you very much, like raindrops falling on green moss and red mud, soft and dispersed. I still like you very much, like the starlight falling into my eyes, I can see you thousands of miles away. I still like you very much, just like Mr. Chaitou Feng's last touch, I fall in love with you. I still like you very much, just like the red tent on a spring night, when I am still dreaming, I still feel afraid to think of you. I still like you very much, just like the bumps and bumps that catch the torrential rain, and how much it falls into the channel. I still like you very much, just like the wind that has traveled eight thousand miles without asking about the date of return. I still like you very much, just like the cycle of the sun and the moon, regardless of day and night. I still like you very much, like a cloud drifting ninety thousand miles without ever resting. I still like you very much, just like stars hitting the earth until death. I still like you very much, like sunshine filling the world, gentle and comfortable. I still like you very much, like the wind blowing in my heart. I still like you very much, like rain falling on the tropics and polar regions, thousands of miles away. I still like you very much, like a whale sinking at the bottom of the sea breathing softly, full of infatuation and full of anger. I still like you very much, like the old city gate that I have been waiting for for many years. I still like you very much, like a whale suffering from lack of oxygen in the deep sea of ​​6,400 meters, never getting tired of it. I still like you very much, just like the subjects waiting for the restoration of the dynasty, which is far away. I still like you very much, the willows are moving, the cicadas are chirping, the sunset is tidal, I can't help myself. I still like you very much, like a cloud drifting ninety thousand miles without ever resting. I still like you very much, like the sun rises and sets, no matter day or night. I still like you very much, just like the stars running through the dark night for hundreds of millions of years without complaining. I still like you very much, like spring rain falling for eight hundred miles, pattering. I still like you very much, like spring grass dyeing the green ridge, there is no doubt. I still like you very much, you are like a shrew, scolding and unreasonable. I still like you very much, just like the rain falling on the green leaves all night long, without hesitation. I still like you very much, just like the falling rain during the plum rain season, it lasts forever. I still like you very much, just like the smoke curling up from the kitchen, the pear frying in the snow and the rain falling. I still like you very much, like a bird falling in love with a fish in the sea. It's hard to decide whether to stay or go. I don't know why. I still like you very much, like a noisy secret that can be said in a thousand words. I still like you very much, just like the begonia in the courtyard that falls and blooms again and again. I still like you very much, just like the sun and the moon take turns, regardless of day and night. I still like you very much, like layers of clouds condensed into phrases, bit by bit. I still like you very much, like the twinkling stars in the night sky, the neon blur. I still like you very much, like the osmanthus leaves falling in the wind and turning into mud. I still like you very much, like raindrops falling on green moss and red mud, soft and dispersed. I still like you very much, like the starlight falling into my eyes, I can see you thousands of miles away. I still like you very much, just like Mr. Chaitou Feng's last touch, I fall in love with you. I still like you very much, just like the red tent on a spring night, when I am still dreaming, I still feel afraid to think of you. I still like you very much, just like the bumps and bumps that catch the torrential rain, and how much it falls into the channel. I still like you very much, just like the wind that has traveled eight thousand miles without asking about the date of return. I still like you very much, just like the cycle of the sun and the moon, regardless of day and night. I still like you very much, like a cloud drifting ninety thousand miles without ever resting. I still like you very much, just like stars hitting the earth until death. I still like you very much, like sunshine filling the world, gentle and comfortable. I still like you very much, like the wind blowing in my heart. I still like you very much, like rain falling on the tropics and polar regions, thousands of miles away. I still like you very much, like a whale sinking at the bottom of the sea breathing softly, full of infatuation and full of anger. I still like you very much, like the old city gate that I have been waiting for for many years. I still like you very much, like a whale suffering from lack of oxygen in the deep sea of ​​6,400 meters, never getting tired of it. I still like you very much, just like the subjects waiting for the restoration of the dynasty, which is far away. I still like you very much, the willows are moving, the cicadas are chirping, the sunset is tidal, I can't help myself. I still like you very much, like a cloud drifting ninety thousand miles without ever resting. I still like you very much, like the sun rises and sets, no matter day or night. I still like you very much, just like the stars running through the dark night for hundreds of millions of years without complaining. I still like you very much, like spring rain falling for eight hundred miles, pattering. I still like you very much, like spring grass dyeing the green ridge, there is no doubt. I still like you very much, you are like a shrew, scolding and unreasonable. I still like you very much, just like the rain falling on the green leaves all night long, without hesitation. I still like you very much, just like the falling rain during the plum rain season, it lasts forever. I still like you very much, just like the smoke curling up from the kitchen, the pear frying in the snow and the rain falling. I still like you very much, like a bird falling in love with a fish in the sea. It's hard to decide whether to stay or go. I don't know why. I still like you very much, like a noisy secret that can be said in a thousand words. I still like you very much, just like the begonia in the courtyard that falls and blooms again and again. I still like you very much, just like the sun and the moon take turns, regardless of day and night. I still like you very much, like layers of clouds condensed into phrases, bit by bit. I still like you very much, like the twinkling stars in the night sky, the neon blur. I still like you very much, like the osmanthus leaves falling in the wind and turning into mud. I still like you very much, like raindrops falling on green moss and red mud, soft and dispersed. I still like you very much, like the starlight falling into my eyes, I can see you thousands of miles away. I still like you very much, just like Mr. Chaitou Feng's last touch, I fall in love with you. I still like you very much, just like the red tent on a spring night, when I am still dreaming, I still feel afraid to think of you. I still like you very much, just like the bumps and bumps that catch the torrential rain, and how much it falls into the channel.

I cried when I read a novel for the first time. You are an amazing author.

I read six or seven of them. What should I say? The writing is too sloppy. It's either bad or not detailed enough. There is no deep portrayal of a character. It gave me a simplified feeling, like looking at an outline. It is inevitable that every author who writes history will look up a lot of information, otherwise the overall structure of the book will not be able to stand up. But I think there can be more details. For example, Cheng Yaojin's "grandfather's ***" line is from TV, but it is very detailed, and the soul of the entire character is reflected. Also, the brothel fighting poem can be written in more detail. I feel like I can write all of Li Bai's poem. For those of us who know this poem well, we enjoy reading every sentence. But if you want to pretend to be cool, you must pretend to be thorough. Don't feel like the word count is too much. The free chapters are useless now. The second thing is that I feel that the protagonist is too crazy. In fact, madness is a kind of character that is very charming. But the protagonist's madness makes me feel like a bandit. Be crazy when you should be crazy. When describing those rubbish supporting characters, the protagonist must be a gentleman. It feels like a lawyer has a reason to make them speechless. When you meet those calligraphy masters, you have to be crazy, but there must be a limit. There is also a problem with going to Youzhou. Let's not talk about the current identity of the protagonist. The protagonist is sent to Youzhou to guard the country. There is no distribution document and no token. Who can prove your identity? Were there no servants when you went to Youzhou? Is there no military followers? This still needs to be described. When I arrived in Youzhou, I happened to be attacked and the city was broken. This is understandable, but with 80 force, is it the God of War? This place is too exaggerated. Exaggerating is too exaggerated. You can write that Qin Qiong is worried and the protagonist sends 800 or 3,000 personal guards to help the protagonist in the battle, and then describe the protagonist in depth. I originally wanted to give it to Samsung, but I think it's not easy to write a book 😷

You, the author, are NB. We have met each other, but you don't know to ask for your name. Who are you lying to? She obviously could know, but you just didn't let her know or ask. Are you going to write later that after she found out it was him, she still didn't want to believe it, so she wanted to get some water. Something more twisty and bizarre in the middle? Can you call this an act of subduing one's intelligence or a kind of forced subjugation? This is really embarrassing. You can tell who he is with just one sentence. Is it interesting for you to do this? (Can't you just be happy here? You know it's pretty cool to see those things in front of you, but it's really uncomfortable when you do this here)

Oh my god, author, why are you so imaginative? The writing in the first few chapters was okay, but it became more and more outrageous towards the end. You write about an emperor and a country as if you were a woman waiting at home for her husband to come back from the war. What's even more awesome is that he knelt in the main hall and even went to the front line to be buried with him. You are insulting Li Shimin. Don't do this even if you are writing a novel. And you have too many emotional dramas. My God, I can't afford to say goodbye.

This novel is Du Zui's work. It mainly tells the story of Qin Zichuan who traveled to the Tang Dynasty in the 21st century and counterattacked with the help of the invincible son-in-law system. This book is still very interesting, but I think there is something inappropriate about it, so I put forward a few thoughts. After Li Er launched the Xuanwumen Incident, Jieli Khan took advantage of the turmoil in the Tang Dynasty to personally lead 200,000 cavalry troops southward. Lan Lan and her mother met the Turks, who not only killed her mother but also wanted to bully her. At this time, the soldiers of Youzhou came forward one after another. Then the Turks pulled out a sharp scimitar and slashed Captain Li Dabiao's neck. But something magical happened. Not only was his head not beheaded, but his bones also stuck the scimitar. This is too exaggerated. Are his bones made of diamond? In addition, the character Lan Lan had been killed by the Turks together with her mother before. But she reappeared later and was captured in the camp together with her sister. This is very confusing, and it is seriously inconsistent with the previous plot. Overall, this book is quite good and gives people a thrilling feeling. The soldiers of the Tang Dynasty were brave and fearless and did not fear the enemy. He does his best to protect the people, which is admirable. There are also scenes where Qin Zichuan deals with his enemies, which is also very enjoyable to watch. What do you think of this? Let's share it together.

I haven't read the book yet, so I'll give it five stars.