Our Binding Love: My Gentle Tyrant - Chapter 287

Shen Wei, the daughter of Shen’s Embroidery Workshop in Fengzhou, was spoiled and spoiled since she was a child, with red lips and pink face, icy muscles and fine bones, but unfortunately her body is weak, she panted four times after walking three steps, and died soon.

The Shen family gradually declined, and her marriage was delayed again and again.

Cui Yun, the eldest son of the Hou Mansion, was noble and stern, and was entrusted to take care of Shen Wei. He thought, why not just marry her.

After being reborn, Shen Wei devoted herself to the embroidery workshop, looking forward to returning to life and returning to the glory of the past.

Hearing this, he was so frightened that he fainted on the spot.

After waking up, with tears in her eyes, she politely refused: “I, a short-lived ghost, why bother my cousin.”

Cui Yun boasted that she was considerate: “There is no need to be moved to tears for trivial matters. Since you have taken refuge in Cui’s family, it is better to stay in Cui’s family completely. After a sudden illness, I can still make a big funeral for you to go away in style.”

Shen Hua is in despair: …but I’m just pretending! ! !

——

Cui Yun has many cousins.

There are many ways to express love.

He refused all of them indifferently.

“It’s late at night, my cousin is proud.”

Shen Hua had never seen such a puzzled man.

Until that night, she came back late, took a shortcut and passed Cui Yun’s courtyard, and was called to stop her.

Cui Yun stood at the vent, her sleeves bulging with the wind.

“It’s cold outside, can my cousin come in and sit down?”

- Description from novelbuddy

Wazu was an ordinary townsman who shut himself off in the “mountain” because of an unfortunate course of events. After 2 years, he decided to come down from the mountain to meet with people. But there were various misunderstanding about the “mountain” which he shut himself off in. And then he repeatedly had encounters with people. And after that. . .

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.