Fourth Prince's Debauchery - Chapter 720 - From Another World

Chen Muxue, the chef of Internet celebrity private kitchen, has transmigrated into a book, and has become the ultimate villain of the male fairy tale novel, and shot the male protagonist away with an iron pot as soon as he came.

Seeing the dilapidated sect and a group of picked up children waiting to be fed, Chen Muxue decided to eat before talking.

It’s just that I didn’t expect that this meal would last the whole summer…

One day, a man with a celestial spirit came over: “Master, is the sect in charge of food? If it is in charge of food, I am willing to worship inside the sect.”

Chen Muxue: “No problem, go plow the field!”

The next day, the entire cultivation world was shocked! Everyone began to test Qiandingmen one after another. No one knew why the great god of Xianmen, who had always been dressed in white, was willing to farm here…

- Description from novelbuddy

Rajesh Kusapari hopes to find a lifelong partner; Xie Yongqiang hopes to be with Wang Xiaomeng for a lifetime; Ji Xiaolan does not want to disappoint Du Xiaoyue’s love; Yuan Hua does not want to hand over Qiuya to others…

Awaken the system, travel through the world, and save the bachelors of the heavens!

I am Xiang Nan, I am working hard!

- Description from novelbuddy

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.

Vincent van Gogh, the painter who refused to be an accessory Of power and painted with his soul at the tip of a brush, was not understood by anyone and had to die like a madman, and he woke up in 21st century Korea.

Like a wheat field melted with gold, like a sunflower that swallowed the sun, a dazzling painter once again takes the brush.