A God Killed Me By Accident, But I Reincarnated As The 4th Son Of The Marquis - Chapter 73Volume 2 : Heading There Early

When Li Xianyu was 20 years old, he received his father’s inheritance, an 18-year-old great-grandmother who was incredibly beautiful.

Li Xianyu: “Great-Grandma, why are you so young?”

Great-Grandma: “That’s because I died when I was 18 years old.”

Jiang Ning, who was in the boudoir, was pregnant and entered the second room of Jiang’s family with a lame leg, just as he met the emperor to choose a concubine for King Yu.

The noble ladies of the noble family participated in the selection of the concubine with all their strength, but the flower fell on the head of Jiang Ning, who was watching the fun.

Jiang Ning: “???”

She didn’t dare to let King Yu be the receiver, she tried her best to tell others that she was pregnant, but the whole world didn’t believe it.

She vomited, and they laughed at her pretending to be sick.

She was sleepy, and they laughed at her for pretending to be weak.

She had a big belly, and they laughed at her for eating too much.

Jiang Ning wanted the doctor’s proof, but all the eighteen doctors he found were of the same caliber: You just ate too much!

***

King Yu, a handsome and handsome young man, raised his eyes to look at the blue sky, as bright as a jade tree in front of the wind.

This is the description of the fifth emperor of the emperor’s family by the people of Chang’an City.

But the real King Yu is ruthless and cruel, and only takes advantage of women.

He knew that the second lady of the Jiang family was Bai Yueguang of the emperor’s father, and that the daughter the Jiang family had just found looked exactly the same as the second lady of the Jiang family when she was young.

So, even though the girl was lame, he still threw the embroidery in his hand into her arms.

***

After marriage, he knew that he was a successor, but for the sake of the throne, even if he hated her extremely, he still pretended to spoil her until…

- Description from novelbuddy

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.