#xianxia

[furtheredfromfatemegafan]

I love furthered from fate bro

its such a good book bro im so hooked i cant stop reading it, li xiangping is such a good writer

its on wattpad under li xiangping and there is a fandom!

[hexesandwyrmwood]

Anyone got a good Xianxia series for killing time. I loved Beware of Chicken and I tried the Laws of Cultivation series, didn’t like it as much but it was decent. I have entirely too much free time and I want to avoid scrolling endlessly

[elenwe-rpg]

QIANYUAN - Forum RPG Xianxia Francophone

Deux mille ans après la chute des Immortels, les grandes sectes maintiennent un équilibre précaire sur le monde de QianYuan. Entre cultivation, mystères, rivalités et quêtes de pouvoir, choisissez votre voie et écrivez votre propre légende.

Forum RPG francophone • Xianxia • Cultivation • Fantasy • Lore original

➤ Découvrir le forum : https://qianyuan.forumactif.com/

[hanfugallery]

Chinese hanfu in xianxia style

[hanfugallery]

Chinese hanfu in green by 释迦果子

[rsenak]

wanderer

been playing where winds meet lately while (in an attempt to recover from burnout. if i can call it that) so hes on my mind a lot

[lingtandanmei]

Cheongji Necromancer Excerpt 31

Gyeong-jae sighed but didn’t resist. His body was too tired to pretend.

Seong-wook watched him sit, watched the way Gyeong-jae’s head drooped the moment he stopped moving, watched the faint shadows under his eyes.

His jaw tightened. Something was wrong. He didn’t know what, but he would keep watch until he figured it out. He would keep Gyeong-jae safe until then—whether Gyeong-jae realized what he was doing or not.

So that was how numerous days after Master Eun’s reassurance slipped by gently and the sparrow skull no longer flared, like pages turning in a well-worn book. The spiritual flare became a story they no longer whispered about at night, but rather a memory folded away—present, but no longer sharp. Nor did such a flare appear in Gyeong-jae’s dreams anymore.

The pavilion’s corridors filled once again with the mundane rhythms of training.

Gyeong-jae balanced atop the low stone platform in the pavilion courtyard, breath misting in the early chill. His fingers hovered over the small sparrow skull talisman hung at his sash.

Master Eun’s voice floated across the yard, calm and assured.

“Feel your spirit’s outline first. Before any technique, grounding is your truest shield.”

Gyeong-jae nodded, lowering into the stance. Seong-wook stood beside him, slightly behind—close, though he didn’t seem aware he’d moved there. He watched Gyeong-jae more than he watched his own form.

“Your elbow is too stiff,” Seong-wook said.

Gyeong-jae blinked. “Is it? No—Master Eun said—”

“It’ll hurt later if you keep it like that.” Seong-wook reached out and nudged Gyeong-jae’s arm, gentler than necessary.

Gyeong-jae didn’t argue, since Seong-wook rarely corrected anyone, and when he did, it was always precise.

When Master Eun passed by, she observed the two boys with a private, approving warmth.

Good, she thought. Let their spirits settle in companionship. Fear dissolves best in quiet bonds.

As the subtle unease faded from the pavilion, training gradually shifted back to routine:

- Spirit-thread alignment drills at mid-morning

- Copying stabilizing sigils in the study hall

- Afternoon sparring under Elder Dan Myeong-hwa’s bright guidance

- Evening lantern rounds to check low-level spirit wards

Yet something had changed, almost imperceptibly. Seong-wook always stepped a half-pace closer to Gyeong-jae. Gyeong-jae, sleep-deprived from dreams he didn’t understand, leaned into that closeness without noticing.

And since Master Eun reported the flare as “inconclusive and not threatening,” the children trained without the shadow of fear—but with a new, subtle attentiveness to one another. They felt safe. Their limbs softened and their vigilance fell quiet.