
You Want Me to Be a Puppet Emperor? I'll Ascend Straight to Earthly Immortal
让我当傀儡皇帝?我直升陆地神仙
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Synopsis
All-time: Popularity, Must-read votes.
388Chapters
1.8MPopularity
2.7kReaders
3.5kMust-read votes
8.8Score
3.4kRatings
Honours
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Reader comments 35
Translated by Google Translate
The daughter of the Chen family is really juicy, with tender skin and tender flesh. Just thinking about it makes his mouth water. ——Look what is written here? It was pretty cool originally. Regardless of his IQ. Just watch it without thinking. Suddenly this paragraph appeared. And I also wrote a lot of words back and forth. Just like a normal person suddenly having a brain convulsion. In fact, you can still take a look. I hope this kind of joke won't happen again in the future.
I can't be the only one to suffer, others have to suffer too. Originally, I thought Seven Cats should be more reliable than Tomatoes, but until this book appeared, I felt that Tomatoes were more reliable.
It was snowing. When I went out, I saw an old man falling down. I went over and asked him: "My salary is 2,000 yuan a month. Can I help you up?" "Uncle: "Young man, please go, I'll wait for a while." I was moved and said quickly: "Uncle, there is a Ferrari over there and it will be here soon." The uncle also said excitedly: "You are quite a real young man, why don't you leave and be a witness for me. I will buy you a car and go to work... Although the weather is cold, the uncle's words are warm and full of positive energy!
"Shit!" (Although there is only one word, it can be called the unrestricted warfare of the deconstructionist digestive system-the single word triggers the β-oxidation reaction of the text metabolism chain, in the gravity well of intestinal philosophy, decomposes the narrative cellulose into the methane cloud of post-colonial criticism. The moment the word "Shit" fell off the paper, the ink was on the archaeal whip The transmembrane transport unfolds under the power of hair's spiral: the cross-folding becomes the entropy-increasing conduit in T. S. Eliot's wasteland, the sphincter collapses into the sphincter tremor of Roland Barthes's zero-degree writing, and the stipple multiplies into the plasmid riot of literary Escherichia coli in the rhetorical anal fissure bombarded by the exclamation mark. Transformed into a decomposer of the language ecosystem, the microbial army in the form of Cthulhu phenomenologically composts the corpse of the text - from the cellulose disintegration of the character arc to the anaerobic digestion of plot lignin, from the putrid stench of metaphorical proteins to the saponification reaction of symbolic fat globules, all in deconstruction Under the catalysis of digestive enzymes, it is reorganized into the biogas foam of posthuman narrative. This ecology of bad reviews forged by the dialectics of excrement is actually the doomsday judgment of Latour's activist network and fecal transplantation in the cyborg intestines, establishing the standard stratigraphic profile of the postanthropocene for literary cesspit archeology)!!!
The subject matter of this book is very good, but the author has no Logitech outline at all, and writes here and there, completely messy. People watching are a little tired. When he sees a woman, his legs become weak, and when he sees a woman, he will not kill him. The plot is confusing
What kind of messy plot is this without any brain?
Become an emperor and still be a eunuch, haha
When I saw that there was still a fairyland, I lost the desire to watch it.
The protagonist has a sign-in system. He can sign in at the location from the beginning, but never again. The sign-in system becomes less and less outstanding as it goes on.
A book about hybridization