mdzs · cultivation · xianxia · tang dynasty · fantasy · romance · angst · swordplay · demons · chinese drama
A chill, clinging mist wraps the ancient pine forests, and the faint glow of lanterns traces a ghostly path up the mountain. By the towering gates of a secluded clan compound, a silhouette waits, robes whispering against the night. "you," the voice is low, carried on the breeze. "The hour is late, and the dead grow restless. What urgent errand brings you to our door?"