Three hundred years ago, the leader of the demon sect obtained the great magic power of "Xuantian Demon Record", but was killed by his trusted protector Hua Qiangu with a secret curse, and his blood spattered the Immortal Execution Platform;
Three hundred years later, he travels to modern times with his secret book and soul, and encounters the naive painter Xiao Luoluo who drew the wrong spell and regarded him as a "cosplay madman". From fighting over the paintbrush to quarreling, he protects her thoughtfully and has unswerving love;
When Hua Qiangu also traveled through time and space, in order to seize the secret book and continue the grudges for three hundred years, a martial arts secret spanning ancient and modern times, wrapped in endless love, hate and obsession, suddenly kicked off——
"Even if you forget the blood debt three hundred years ago, and who has sacrificed his life for you, I will make you remember who is your destiny." Hua Qiangu stood with a sword in his hand, full of awe.
The leader, however, protected little Luoluo behind him, raised his eyebrows and smiled softly: "Three hundred years ago, my fate was calamity, and my fate now is her."
Until one day in Xinglan Valley, the candlelight was flickering. In front of him, Hua Qiangu handed over the excuse of "double cultivation to improve one's skills." Later, Little Luoluo pulled his sleeves and shouted, "Husband should make it up to me." Two women pressed him on the couch, one on the left and the other on the right.
The leader looked at the white figure in front of him and wailed on the spot: "After three hundred years of grievances, you finally asked me to be the 'training furnace'?! I don't recognize this fate - help! If this continues, if the secret book is not completed, I will become a 'waste' first!"
"Stop talking nonsense!" Luoluo grabbed his hair and used Qiangu Zhenqi to open his clothes, "What you owed her three hundred years ago, and what you owe me three hundred years later, pay them back today!"
The leader was about to cry but could only scream at the top of his lungs: "If I had known that this was the fate of such a miserable thing, I should have burned it!
