Transmigrated into a Book and Became a Spoiled Antagonist - Chapter 91 - Suffering a Loss

“Some connections are written long before two hearts ever meet.”Arjun never believed in fate, just another lost soul buried in the noise of textbooks and deadlines.Ayesha was a quiet storm, hiding a fragile heart behind glowing smiles and disappearing messages.They were just two strangers, separated by borders, bound by pixels on a screen.But what starts as casual texts in the dead of night slowly turns into something neither of them can explain.A bond stitched through unseen heartbeats.A love whispered through endless silences.But every heartbeat carries secrets... and some secrets are too heavy to cross the distance.When time begins slipping through Ayesha's fingers, Arjun finds himself caught between holding on or letting go.Will their hearts find each other in the silence or will destiny write their last message before they ever meet?

In the end of the era, the ghost wizard was killed in a car accident, the soul crossed, and he found himself in Japan, and he was attached to a Japanese.

I was thinking about taking a name in Japan, and I picked up a newspaper and glanced at it –

Kudo Shinichi, Sherlock Holmes of Japan’s Heisei, the savior of the police? In the trough, how does Laozi wear into the world of the second yuan? Well, all in all, this is a story of a wizard playing a passerby in the Conan world…

- Description from MTLNovel

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.

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.