MTL - Night of the Divorce! A Proud Lady Was Forced to Marry the Emperor’s Uncle - Chapter 6 they are kindred spirits

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.

He became stronger, faster than anyone else… but he lost. In the end, there was only despair for Kim YuWon.

In his last moments, he was given another chance… Through the sacrifice of his comrade, his fate had not been sealed yet.

Returning back to the past, he attempts to climb the Tower again with his unmatched talent.

To fight the ancient evils that threatens to destroy the Tower.

That lonesome night as he lays dying in the hospital, fearing of death and desiring the taste of life, his mind became unprecedentedly complex with mixed emotions.

Myasthenia gravis — an incurable disease where one’s muscle slowly degenerated until the day when one can no longer move and only tears may flow.

“Is this… dying?”

When he opened his eyes again, he had crossed over into the body of a two months old infant, right in the middle of an assassination attempt.

He was born as the illegitimate son of a noble. His name was Fan Xian; and with that name came the burden of deep political secrets and the legacy of his mother.

He understood; to survive, he needed unparalleled strength, money and political power.

To a new world with the luxury of a new life, so named; Celebrating the Remaining Life.

- Description from Novelupdates

The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air.“You shouldn't be here,” Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling.“Shouldn't I?” His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume.“I haven’t seen you for the last two days,” his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. “Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?”Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, “I don't belong to anyone.”“A bold claim,“ he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. ”Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch.”His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. “Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?”