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Fate's Attendant 1.29

Added 2025-09-17 23:03:01 +0000 UTC

Yu Yong paced restlessly through the estate, moving from courtyard to courtyard, but no matter where he turned, there were guards nodding to him, greeting him, and reminding him of their presence. Rather than finding comfort in the security they provided, he felt stifled.

The cool night breezes normally helped him on nights like this one, but ever since he’d tasted the wilderness outside the city walls, the gardens weren’t enough. Every twig and every branch on the estate had been curated for the pleasure of the Yu family. There was no danger. The opportunities to prove himself couldn’t exist when the people around him were willing to do everything on his behalf, including sacrifice themselves.

Yu Yong needed to calm himself, he knew. The situation would improve once his grandfather successfully emerged from seclusion, but when would that be? How much longer would he have to wait?

At least during the survival training, things had been more interesting. No matter what he’d told Chen Zhengyi, he’d felt a thrill sleeping in a tent for the first time, listening to the forest noises at night. They were so loud; the insects and the birds and the animal cries were mesmerizing to the point of distraction.

There’d been one that had sounded like a woman screaming. Yu Yong’s heart had nearly stopped upon hearing it. He’d reached for his sword, but the guard outside his tent had told him it was one of the forest cats calling out to warn another away from entering its territory.

“They have nothing to do with us,” the man had said.

“They have nothing to do with us,” Yu Yong muttered mockingly as he paced through the estate, his fists clenched in frustration

Chen Zhengyi counseled patience. He’d told Yu Yong that he’d speak to his uncle about another expedition, this time with fewer guards. Hopefully, that would happen soon. His friend was good at finding ways to distract from the terrible monotony of being trapped inside the estate.

Near the family entrance to the training hall, Yu Yong caught sight of Hong Fei moving with purpose, the spirit beast prowling alongside him. There was such power in the creature—the muscles shifting under its fur. The giant badger looked and was dangerous. Yu Yong could tell, even at a distance.

The beast saw him and nudged its owner. Turning, Hong Fei’s eyes found Yu Yong, but the dūtóu offered only a simple nod before striding deeper into the estate.

Hong Fei walked with purpose. He’d told stories that seemed impossible, and yet he’d had the scars to prove them true. Yu Yong’s stomach cramped with envy. He thirsted for a life out of reach.

The duke’s grandson couldn’t help but follow. He watched as the dūtóu entered Steward Zhang’s office, the spirit beast turning sideways to follow him inside. They’d left the door open, so that the creature’s tail could extend into the corridor.

That was practically an invitation to listen to the conversation, Yu Yong thought, and he crept to stand just within earshot. The young man marveled at the story told—of a local gang intending to corrupt a loyal city clerk through coercion. His blood heated at hearing of the deaths of the miscreants involved, as well as the commendation intended for the hero responsible for saving Clerk Beitang from wrongdoing.

A question was asked about waking the duke to share this news, but Steward Zhang rightly declined. Yu Yong’s grandfather needed to focus on his breakthrough to the next realm more than anything else.

Yu Yong was ready to flee at any moment so as to not be caught rudely eavesdropping, but the steward and the dūtóu continued to talk for a good while longer, discussing the reach of the Rock Knife gang. Steward Zhang promised to coordinate with Clerk Beitang in continuing to pursue them. They had several legitimate businesses that might be pressured.

The duke’s grandson moved away when he saw the giant badger’s tail shift, but his retreat was cut short when he saw that it was simply the dūtóu closing the door.

When Yu Yong went back to eavesdropping, he couldn’t hear anything else, even after coming much closer and pressing his ear to the door. For a moment, he gazed at it, then retreated. He’d already heard enough, and he imagined what it would be like to break up a gang of kidnappers and miscreants himself.

###

The night breeze blew through Hong Fei’s courtyard, shaking the branches of the cherry tree at its center. The space was otherwise still.

Anxious to address the unspent Fate Points in Hong Fei’s possession, Auntie Ling went straight to the salon. She watched with incredulity as he didn’t follow her, but instead walked toward the servants’ quarters.

He tapped softly on Kang Lian’s door and whispered, “I’m back.”

“What’s the passphrase?” she whispered in return.

Did I give them one? he wondered, then recalled what he’d said before: “Auntie Ling believes it’s safe.”

The door was unbarred, and a pair of relieved eyes peeked out at him.

“Little Ruyun?” he asked.

“Asleep in my bed,” Kang Lian replied. “It’s been quiet. No one troubled us.”

Hong Fei took a breath and let the tension leave him fully. “Good.”

“Do you—are you hungry?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’m fine. I’ll be awake for a while longer, but don’t need anything. There may be a guest or delivery tomorrow. If the salon doors are closed at the time, don’t enter. Simply knock, and I’ll come. Is that understood?”

Curiosity flashed in Kang Lian’s eyes, but she nodded to show she’d understood. “I’ll be sure to tell Little Ruyun.” And just as the dūtóu was turning away, she added: “It’s good you’re safe.”

Hong Fei nodded, then left the door closing behind him.

In the salon, Auntie Ling paced impatiently. She continued while he lit the lamps and shut the door. With a sigh, he fell back into the chair that was quickly becoming his favorite.

For some reason, his throat was dry. A pitcher of water had been left out, but drinking a cup didn’t help. The tension he’d thought he’d let go hadn’t actually gone. He felt it knot in a ball between his shoulder blades.

“No sense in waiting,” he muttered and drew his card from the satchel.

Auntie Ling came to stand in front of him. Her eyes shimmered in the light of the projection. Three smaller cards hovered above it, each as dark as the night outside but speckled with stars.

Hong Fei
Fate Points: 6 | 5
Realm: Body-Forged 4
Cultivation: 6
Alignment: N/A
Attributes
·         Body: 2
·         Mind: 2
·         Soul: 2
Traits
·         Sword Prodigy
·         Fate's Attendant
Milestones
·         Three is the Direction
Cards
·         Uncommon Badger

He knew what to do, which was to touch the third card. A moment later, colors flowed from the white specks as if leaking through from the other side. The painting of a young man appeared; he looked to be about twenty-three or twenty-four years old. He wore a wide-sleeved robe in gray, belted with a yellow sash. A formal cap sat on his head.

Hong Fei touched the card again, and a new string of symbols displayed:

“Would you like to use 4 Fate Point to redeem Scholar Sun Han? Yes/No”

He looked at Auntie Ling, and the giant badger licked her lips, nodding.

At his touch of the Yes, the two other night-sky cards disappeared, and the painting he’d chosen shimmered, surrounded by a silver light. The colors grew richer, as if a more skilled painter added their brushstrokes to the ones already existing. Line by line, they painted until the whole of the card was complete, and it materialized in the air to fall into Hong Fei’s hands.

At the top were the numbers 2 and 2, and at the bottom were symbols that appeared as “Scholar Sun Han.”

Hong Fei looked around, anxious to see this person, but the room remained empty except for Auntie Ling and him. Was the young man perhaps shy? Did he need to be invited?

“You can come out,” Hong Fei said to the air. Then, when nothing happened, he added more formally, “I summon you.”

The words were a loose thread, a stray line connected to his intention but left hanging in the open. Hong Fei felt an immaterial tug—the thread pulled, the line grasped—and then he began to empty, the sense not unlike bleeding to death.

There was confusion, dislocation, a dizzying spiral, as the colors from which Hong Fei had been painted leaked invisibly out. They coalesced and were used to draw another being into existence. Stroke by stroke, the young man pictured in the card appeared in the salon.

The floor creaked as his weight settled onto it. He took a breath with eyes closed as if luxuriating in the simple act of breathing. With a large grin, he bowed and proclaimed: “Andrew! At last! I greet you!”

Hong Fei didn’t understand a single word.

At his summoner’s silence, Sun Han glanced up from his bow. “Wait! You’re not Andrew.” He righted himself and saw the spirit beast nearby. “This is surely the right place, but where is he?”

The giant badger drew a claw across her neck.

“No!” Then, when the giant badger appeared eminently serious, Sun Han grappled with the concept of Fate’s Attendant dead.

Meanwhile, Hong Fei grappled with the sense that a part of him was missing. He had a strong suspicion he’d finally puzzled out the symbols for “Soul.” He’d always heard a cultivator’s artifacts were to never be taken lightly, and now he’d paid a terrible price for not respecting that advice.

His voice was rough as he asked, “How much?”

Sun Han blinked at the man in the chair. From his posture and his mumbling, he was surely drunk, yet that didn’t preclude him knowing the circumstances surrounding the summoner’s death, assuming that the giant badger was right.

Fortunately, he spoke the People’s language. “Excuse me, do you know what happened to Andrew? He stands… stood about so high.” Sun Han gestured to the level of his nose. “With light brown hair and freckles on his face and arms. He may have…” Sun Han paused to consider how to delicately frame the next part. “He may have appeared confused or not known about simple things that others understood from birth…”

The man in the chair rose with an agility belying his supposed drunkenness, drawing a knife from seemingly nowhere to hold it against the scholar’s throat.

Sun Han frowned. His eyes darkened. “If you’re the one who hurt—”

Auntie Ling reached between the two men to separate them. She huffed in frustration and shoved Hong Fei back into the chair.

“How much of my soul did you take?” the dūtóu demanded.

“What?” Sun Han replied, suddenly confused. “Your soul?”

Meanwhile, Auntie Ling sat with a relieved thump. Finally, finally! Hong Fei had worked out the last attribute’s translation.

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Characters Mentioned in this Chapter