Two male protagonists + rebirth and revenge + cool writing + femme fatale + loyal dog
In the previous life, on the Immortal Killing Platform, all the divine bones were broken.
Hanchuan is a beauty who is both stunning in the three realms and poisonous in the sky. She is a half-demon with the bloodline of Yao Luan, who is obsessed with the sky. For no reason, she is accused of stealing the seal of the Hunyuan Dao of the Nine Heavens. She is surrounded and suppressed by the four immortal sects.
Immortal Mu Hua has a dignified appearance, and with one sentence he eliminates demons and defends the way, a hundred thousand immortal soldiers massacre Qingxia Valley with blood, and Hanchuan's soul is torn apart by the overwhelming hatred.
Three hundred years later, he climbed out of the coffin in the mass grave
His skin is still causing trouble to the world, but his methods are crazier and more extreme than those of the demons in purgatory. Those who were in debt in the previous life, in this life——
"I heard that you got a new immortal bone? Tsk, tsk, why not take it off and carve a monument for you?"
"Ancestor, are you hiding in seclusion? Don't worry, I'll send you down to play mahjong with the King of Hell right now. Three of them are short of one!"
"A lot of feet stepped on my robe during the siege? Oh, chop them off one by one. Feed the dogs!"
Stepping on the blood of the corpses of his enemies and listening to their wails and begging for mercy, Hanchuan smiled enchantingly and coldly: Blood debts must be paid with life, only then will they be happy enough!
It's just... What does the cold immortal Lord Yun Wujiu behind him, who is famous in the immortal world, mean?
The spectator who was surrounded and suppressed three hundred years ago has become the most loyal sword under his feet in this life. Hanchuan seduces: "Immortal Lord, are we not familiar with each other?"
And when Hanchuan thought this was just a game of exploitation, he found a verse engraved in his bones and blood on the inside of the hilt of the sword that the man was holding tightly, "Living in the clouds and crossing the cold."
Yun Wujiu's eyes were calm, and he held his sword to cut off the thorns in his path.
"For you in this life, I will betray all the immortal sects without regrets.
Reader comments
"Zhenyi suddenly returned, only his shadow was reflected in thousands of mountains."
Huotian Yaoluan was born in the beauty of heaven and earth. He should have seen the world with a pair of loving eyes. He should be content with growing flowers and grass, and be envied by everyone and be happy. But the so-called righteous way wants to kill him, and hundreds of immortal families want to kill him, because the world does not tolerate it and the people's hearts are slaughtered, so the golden cup fell into the coral pool, the bright moon fell into the mire, and the three hundred years of hatred turned into new cold flesh and blood in the mass graves. The too strong obsession made Hanchuan open his eyes to see the waning moon again.
Hanchuan hated the way of heaven for being blinded, and hated those who purified the world for harboring filth and evil. Three hundred years were like a dream, and the scenery was gone but his blood boiled. After the short period of self-pity, it was a spiritual rebirth. Everyone wanted him to fall, but he saved his life and vowed to save the hypocritical immortal family from then on.
The blood feud was passed away, and the romance was temporarily suppressed. He wrapped his body around Yun Wujiu's neck with a fragility and innocence that was carefully decorated, and a sweetness like a poisonous snake. The man who looked like an ice sculpture had a calm face, but when he finally saw Miao Miao, whom he had been thinking about for three hundred years, at the end of the pile of corpses, his heart palpitated no less than the startling glimpse of Huo Xin Tower, and his actions were always true to his words. Presumably, if Han Chuan took advantage of the sword, he would become the one who followed him most devoutly. His heart and soul were placed in Han Chuan's jade palm, and blood and love seeped into the palm lines of the two of them.
The color of cold and heat for hundreds of years
The flow of things in the world is as good as before
The sky is full of hatred
Crossing the water without a boat
It's not my own fault that leads me to a smooth road
"Zhenyi suddenly returned, only his shadow was reflected in thousands of mountains." Huotian Yaoluan was born in the beauty of heaven and earth. He should have seen the world with a pair of loving eyes. He should be content with growing flowers and grass, and be envied by everyone and be happy. But the so-called righteous way wants to kill him, and hundreds of immortal families want to kill him, because the world does not tolerate it and the people's hearts are slaughtered, so the golden cup fell into the coral pool, the bright moon fell into the mire, and the three hundred years of hatred turned into new cold flesh and blood in the mass graves. The too strong obsession made Hanchuan open his eyes to see the waning moon again. Hanchuan hated the way of heaven for being blinded, and hated those who purified the world for harboring filth and evil. Three hundred years were like a dream, and the scenery was gone but his blood boiled. After the short period of self-pity, it was a spiritual rebirth. Everyone wanted him to fall, but he saved his life and vowed to save the hypocritical immortal family from then on. The blood feud was passed away, and the romance was temporarily suppressed. He wrapped his body around Yun Wujiu's neck with a fragility and innocence that was carefully decorated, and a sweetness like a poisonous snake. The man who looked like an ice sculpture had a calm face, but when he finally saw Miao Miao, whom he had been thinking about for three hundred years, at the end of the pile of corpses, his heart palpitated no less than the startling glimpse of Huo Xin Tower, and his actions were always true to his words. Presumably, if Han Chuan took advantage of the sword, he would become the one who followed him most devoutly. His heart and soul were placed in Han Chuan's jade palm, and blood and love seeped into the palm lines of the two of them. The color of cold and heat for hundreds of years The flow of things in the world is as good as before The sky is full of hatred Crossing the water without a boat It's not my own fault that leads me to a smooth road