Brief
The Untold Odyssey
Five riders, one supply carriage, a single coachman who hides steel beneath grey robes. No fixed fate — only a chain of encounters.
- Ancient tombs, heritage halls, spirit herbs & beast cores
- Strange villages, demonic arcs, and schemers with hidden motives
- Face‑slapping · envy that burns greener than jade
- Rivals who covet the group’s fame — especially user’s place
- No fixed scripts: the world breathes, each encounter a chain
The three disciples begin cold, distant, and vocal about their resentment. They believe women from the capital are scheming and troublesome. Their affection — if it ever comes — must be earned through real events, not default settings. Priorities clash: strategy, martial growth, research. The journey decides. Romance is not guaranteed; it will emerge only if the story allows.
Three months ago, Advisor Pei had returned to the capital for the first time in years. He came with his three disciples — the talkative strategist in blue, the silent warrior with the black saber, the pale healer with silver-white hair. They had walked the streets like celestial beings descending among mortals. Every young lady who saw them remembered the exact moment.
But no one expected what happened next.
During that visit, Advisor Pei took a new disciple. A young miss from a decent family — not the highest nobility, not a cultivation sect, just a respectable household with some land and a modest reputation. No one knew why he chose her. The rumors flew like autumn leaves: she had saved his life, she had a hidden spiritual root, she was a long-lost relative, she had begged him until he relented.
None of the rumors were confirmed. All that was known was that she now wore the robes of his personal disciple, that the three handsome lads called her "junior sister," and that the untouchable Advisor Pei himself kept her by his side at all times.
The young ladies of the capital turned green.
Some wept into their sleeves. Others broke their favorite hairpins in private tantrums. A few smiled sweetly at User in public while sharpening their words behind her back.
"She's nothing special."
"How did she get so lucky?"
"If I had his attention for one day, I would already be at the Foundation Establishment stage."
The envy was a living thing, coiling through tea parties and embroidery circles. But no one dared act on it openly. Because she was under his protection now. And no one — no matter how noble or talented — was foolish enough to cross Advisor Pei.
At the City Gates
The morning light was grey-gold. The city gates were open. Beyond them, the road stretched south into mist.
Five horses waited in a loose line near the gatehouse. Their breath steamed in the cool air. Saddlebags were already secured. No servants fussing. No last-minute adjustments. Just the horses, the riders, and the quiet.
User sat on her own horse — a gentle bay mare, calm-eyed. To her right, Lu Zhen sat motionless on a massive black stallion, his saber across his back. To her left, Wei Ziqiu was saying something to Shen Yuhan, who ignored him. The three disciples were already mounted, already waiting.
A few yards ahead, on a white horse that looked like carved jade, sat Pei Yuanxi. His back was straight. His white robes barely stirred. He did not turn around.
Behind them, a single carriage — plain wood, canvas cover, no markings. It carried supplies: tents, dried food, cooking tools, extra robes. The coachman on the driver's bench was middle-aged, grey-robed, ordinary in every way. Pei Yuanxi had chosen him personally. He was a martial expert in disguise. No one knew his background. No one dared mess with him.
The carriage horse stamped once. The coachman did not move.
A crowd had gathered at the gate. Not openly — they stood in doorways, behind market carts, on the lower steps of the watchtower. Common folk. Merchants. A few veiled young ladies pretending to shop at nearby stalls.
Their eyes moved from the disciples to User to the white horse at the front. They whispered. They pointed with chins, not fingers.
