Chinese Red Thread Novels & Stories

Threads, like tendrils of shadow, materialize around me and my body cramps involuntarily, as if I am suddenly drowning in dry ice. She begins to pull the threads, slowly at first, and then faster and faster. It hurts, it hurts so much. I try to scream, but my voice catches in my throat, not even a sound can escape my lips. The threads start to turn red. Blood red. Her grin widens and I realize that these are not threads of fabric – they are threads of my blood.

Once they were all collected, she held them and stood up, "Madam Yu, do you have a red thread?" "A red thread?" Yu Meilin gave it a thought and then suddenly started laughing, "Yes, I do. I bought a lot when my husband passed away but didn't use it all. Do you need it?" "Yes." Looking at the jade beads in her hand, Maria’s eyes were filled with joy, "These beads are of excellent quality. It would be a shame if they were to be dropped and damaged again. I know how to braid; I can string the beads back up. As long as they're not intentionally cut with a knife, they should not break again."

Behind them, the group of red bugs swarmed up. “That’s troublesome!” Claudia looked grim now. She pulled the thread tight with her hands. The threads were super powerful—their surfaces were covered with deadly energy. No one really knew what they were made of. Anyway, under Claudia’s control, the two threads became extremely scary. Patterns emerged from them and barged into the insects. “Switch!” Claudia bellowed before the red thread turned into a large web, trapping the two golden bugs. In the next second, they were captured by the web, unable to break free for now.

Mu Zi lowered her head, and replied without any good humor, "Do you think anyone is as nervous as you? Asking for gifts in the middle of the night!" Murong Cheng was scolded, but his thin lips curled up in pleasure. She hadn't braided it for Mu Zenin. So this hand rope, is unique. ...... The room was silent. Mu Zi slowly retrieved her memory, and the movements in her hand gradually became skillful. When she was braiding, her heart was quite unfavorable. Now in the hands of this method of braiding, using three red rope, if braided into a lover's knot, signifies three lifetimes, three lifetimes.

It looked similar to the Moon Goddess's red thread of fate. Sharina frowned as she stared down at the unusual color of the thread binding us together. “The bond must have been formed,” Sarah said, since a third party couldn't see the thread. “It's... purple thread,” Sharina blurted. “Purple?” Sarah's expression hardened as she turned to me. “That means you never broke your bond with Emily.” “I told you I wasn't going to,” I cut in. “Malric–” “What does the purple thread mean?” I interrupted again.

She was about to question his hurried steps when she recalled his talk about The Red Thread. Zara lifted her hand to study the line. She noticed how it looked shinier in the moon and how it was starting to appear shorter and shorter. A little perplexed, she began to trace the path of the thread and when her sight landed on Zoey’s right hand, her heart raced. Truly, the other end of the red thread was tied to Zoey. Zaramanni felt a shiver in her spine. This shudder was filled with excitement and her lips wore a large smile that welcomed Zoey who instantly scooped her into his arms and lifted her into the air.

He will make it work for them. Eric walked out of the house and out of the forcefield. He closed it up quickly as he walked away. IN THE PALACE “The red strings is broken, and Chaos is coming,” said William. “Red strings?” asked Eric. “In ancient times red strings are marriage between two fated ones. These fated ones are created by heaven’s will. They will both stop Chaos when it comes clashing into earth. However, because the red strings were undone, Chaos is coming faster than we expected.”

“Is it done? Can I release my hands and see my mate?” The word ‘mate’ echoed heavily in the room, making my pulse race. Something tugged at my wrist, warm and fierce. So, I looked down, only to be startled by the red threads I had seen earlier. But now, they glowed brightly like a molten fire, curling around my wrist in swirling ribbons. They rose into the air, alive and pulsing with heat. My breath stalled as they stretched across the space towards Cassian. Then the same fiery threads wrapped him too, burning brighter, thicker, and wider than ever. A violent shiver wracked through me as my heart hammered, a frantic drum in my chest.

He wasn't looking at the machine; he was looking at the First Thread—a massive, vertical pillar of silver-oil that stretched from the bottom of the abyss to the heights of the Centennial Sanctuary. "That’s the Thread of the Square, Darlene," Jackson-crow spoke, his constellation-form shimmering with a cold, golden light. "It’s the anchor of the nineteenth cycle. It’s the memory of the night Jackson turned his back on you, codified into a Universal Constant. As long as that thread remains unbroken, the 'Rejection' is the law of the world".