Chinese Wuxia Veil Novels & Stories

The moment Felix opened the door with a bang Ziven and his men turned their heads in Felix's and chief's direction. Felix, chief and the fellow guards had their guns pointed at Ziven and his men. Felix stared at Ziven and his eyes throwed daggers at Ziven's way and beside him Chief's blood was boiling from anger. Meanwhile Amelthia was on floor as the corner of lips got wet from the blood. As soon as Amelthia saw Felix her eyes lit up and a shiny glint of hope and safe feeling could be clearly seen in her eyes. "F-Felix...." her voice came out not above a whisper, inaudible to everyone.

He grunts. Lucas hand raised to brush the curls out of his face but the planned movement was interrupted, forcing his eyes open he looked down at himself to see what had caused the intrusion and to his surprise he found that he was completely covered with a blanket and his helper had gone an extra mile to help with loosening up his buttons and belt. His shoes were also gotten rid of.

The brightness of the morning sun shone through my window as I stood in sharp contrast to the chill that was beginning to settle in my chest. I gazed at the ceiling, I could hear the city's subtle hum awakening all around me. My mind was a whirlpool of feelings that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I would put on the bride-to-be mask, answer boring questions, and smile for the cameras today. I wasn't just any Fiancée, but the a Presley's bride"

“That essence mingles strong—use for veil potency, or distract?” Lira veiled spectral, third-eye pulsing erratic white. “Visions devour depths—branches infinite, prophecies crown bleed if forced. Harmony adapts subtle; undercrypt hungers heirs' blood, personal now. Whispers seek from sight? Bond's heat veils deeper—refuse tempt, guide true,” she intoned ethereal, veil shifting to reveal luminous concern. “Paths branch dark; choose wise, or self-fulfill ruin.”

His dark hair fell into his eyes, but the way he looked at me—like he could see straight through my skin—made my breath hitch. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he said, stepping closer. “The Veil’s thin tonight.” “The what?” His jaw tightened. “You really don’t know.” It wasn’t a question. I crossed my arms. “Then maybe explain instead of speaking in creepy one-liners.” He hesitated, looking over his shoulder like he expected something to leap out of the shadows. “The Veil is what keeps… them out. It’s not supposed to show you things unless—” He stopped himself, eyes narrowing. “What did you see?”

The Castle of the Veil, also known as the Veil Warden Academy, is a beautiful place, which is completely opposite to everything we’ve been taught our entire lives. It’s styled and decorated in the Renaissance era, and the courtyards are beautifully kept sitting areas. The entire vibe of the place is live and let live but respect each other. What in the feck is wrong with that? Why all the stories? Nothing I was taught from kindergarten to graduation is true. Why did they feel they needed to play all the cloak and dagger games? I am so confused but mostly, I’m angry as hell about losing my mate.

“Together.” The moment I reached the artifact, the chamber shuddered violently. Blue and red light danced across the walls, merging into white-hot brilliance that burned into my vision. The shadow lunged forward, and instinctively, Phoenix and I extended our hands, forming a barrier of light around ourselves and the artifact.

Fang Tianyi put away the straw-knitted pot lid. Xie Jieyu found a gray embroidered cloak. The cloak was a little worn out like a large piece of rotten cloth, and the patterns on it were basically difficult to recognize. The patterns should be some kind of flower that had been extinct, but this piece of rag had an amazing effect. When Xie Jieyu put it on her body, she immediately became completely invisible. Both her aura and image completely disappeared into the void. She was still standing there, but when Ding Hao reached out his hand, it was like passing through the air.

But she remembered the rabbit’s heartbeat, the way the forest had sung in her blood, the hunger that hadn’t belonged to her. “I…” Her voice faltered. “I don’t want this.” “No one does,” Rowan said simply. “But wanting doesn’t change the bloodline.” “The bloodline?” Rowan straightened, expression shadowed. He moved to a shelf, pulling down an old leather-bound book. The cover was cracked, its edges worn smooth with use. He laid it on the table, opening it to a page marked by a ribbon of faded red cloth. The illustration made Evelyn’s stomach twist. A man—human—stood beneath a crescent moon, his body splitting apart, fur and claws erupting from his skin. Around him, others knelt, bound in chai

"The warlord will enjoy her." "Don’t damage her too much before the wedding." The wedding. The words felt unreal, like they belonged to someone else’s nightmare. Not mine. We stopped outside a large tent, its dark fabric billowing like a shroud of death. One of the men shoved me forward, his grip bruising my arm. My knees buckled, but I didn’t fall. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Inside, the air was colder, heavier. The warlord sat on a low cushion, a rifle resting casually across his lap.