3seed

Fate's Attendant 1.40

Added 2025-10-10 18:27:14 +0000 UTC

Over the course of the day, the consequences of Yu Yong’s misadventure unfolded like a fan—a series of actions one after the other. Visitors came to the Young Master’s salon. They brought gifts and amusements in hopes of lifting his spirits. They were turned away at first, because he was asleep. Later, he refused to see them.

Messengers were sent from the estate. The family’s agents were instructed to search for clues to the provenance of the mysterious pill Yu Yong had taken.

In the late afternoon, just before the shop closed, a man caused a ruckus at the Gallant Hero Marble Sculpture Gallery in the middle city. The statues were wrecked, and when the guards attempted to subdue him, he threw them out into the street with qi-enhanced strength. Ma Mo was there and earned a broken arm in service to the house.

The vandal left the shop laughing and yelling that the heydays of the Yu family were at an end. He was later caught by a squad of the estate’s soldiers led directly by two of the Yu’s shízhǎngs, and he was beaten to death. His identity remained a mystery, however. No one knew him or of him. The consensus among the retainers was that another house was testing them.

In the early evening, a little after fifth bell, Zhang Dehua summoned Hong Fei to tell him that the Rock Knives had sent an apology for the way he and his servants had been treated. Their intention, supposedly, was to make clear they were uninvolved in any of the house’s troubles. As recompense, they included with the message a pouch of ten silver tael.

As Hong Fei read the letter for himself, his instructions from the steward were clear: “Focus on the real threats. Leave the Rock Knives alone for now. Don’t become distracted.”

The dūtóu walked away thinking that he reported only to the duchess. Back at his courtyard, the deathly white number 1 above Little Ruyun’s head remained.

###

A light rain slicked the roof tiles. Hong Fei took care in passing over them, treading carefully from one building to the next. The house’s patrols were alert to intruders, and he needed to duck out of view several times on his way to Chen Zhengy’s courtyard.

He caught sight of the youth leaving with a lantern in one hand and an oiled paper umbrella in the other. A servant had rushed up to hold them on his behalf, but he angrily sent her away, choosing instead to march out of the courtyard alone.

Hong Fei paced him from above. He hugged the roof’s contours to keep from being silhouetted against the night sky. He moved along the length of a corridor, circled around a garden whose flowers were asleep, and over toward Mei Hua’s courtyard, the destination now obvious.

Hong Fei ran ahead to find a spot upon which he could perch. Down below, he heard Chen Zhengyi’s arrival, followed by the sound of servants being ordered out. None of them dared to complain about the treatment. To Hong Fei, it seemed this was a common occurrence, though perhaps without the wrath audible in the youth’s voice.

The voice which was muffled as the salon doors closed.

Hong Fei counted to a hundred before shifting closer. The courtyard below was empty, so he hung his head over the side. He took the buff given to him by Sun Han and shaped the qi into the spell called Mountain Hares are Righteous, which would improve his hearing.

The spell was part of the Hong family’s core curriculum—not useful perhaps in the heat of battle, but critical beforehand and sometimes after, as well.

“… no good anymore,” Chen Zhenyi was saying. “His future’s finished; even you must see it.”

“How so?” Mei Hua retorted. “Is Yongyong not still the duke’s heir? The family will be his to command, no matter what realm his cultivation.”

“You can’t seriously believe that?”

“If others can be convinced of it, then so can I. All that’s necessary are the right words in the right order in the right ears.” She laughed, though mirthlessly. “There’s even an advantage! Now that Yongyong can no longer ascend, the associated risks are gone. The Yu family will finally have a leader who is safe from deviation.”

“And the house’s enemies will leave a man like him alone? I don’t think so.” There was the sound of a heavy tread pacing. “You’d best give up your dream of marrying the Young Master. Tie your horse to my lead instead. Ningning will need support during this time, and I will be there for her. Once we marry, I can lead the family instead.”

“Only an heir of the duke can lead the Yu’s,” Mei Hua said spitefully. “It is the emperor’s proclamation.”

Chen Zhengyi chortled. “You and I both know: command is not for Ningning. She cares more about rice fields than soldiers. She’ll be glad to give over those responsibilities to me, and then I’ll assure both our futures.”

“I’ve told you before!” Mei Hua said, almost a hiss. “I won’t be your concubine. Not yours nor anyone else’s.”

Chen Zhengyi’s voice turned cold. “You’re set on him, then—the boy who only knew how to dream, dreams that are all broken.”

“They may be broken now, but they can be replaced by my dreams,” Mei Hua said. “I’ll return this house to glory in his stead.”

“Our uncle’s plots have made you reckless,” Chen Zhengyi said.

“He at least knows how to strategize. Not like some who…” the words came spitting out of Mei Hua… “fumble and grab at whatever weaknesses seem convenient.”

Hong Fei heard the sound of young man’s heavy breathing. He withdrew from the roof’s edge when the tread of boots marched toward the doors. Chen Zhengyi slammed them open, then strode through the courtyard.

A single word from Mei Hua accompanied him, spoken in a whisper: “Fool.”

Hong Fei waited for the doors to close before rushing across the adjacent rooftops. He lost track of Chen Zhengyi, however, and made a calculated guess that the youth was returning to his own courtyard. That turned out to be a mistake, and searching carefully didn’t reveal where the young man had gone.

###

The next day, the estate was on tenterhooks. Rumors circulated among the staff about the extent of the Young Master’s injuries, as well as speculation regarding the vandalism at the Gallant Hero. Servants reported being harassed while on unaccompanied errands in the city, so the patrol schedules were tightened and instructions were given not to travel alone.

No one refused to speak to Hong Fei; the tragedy befalling Yu Yong superseded any remaining hard feelings about the gambling ring, and it seemed no one took seriously the story that the dūtóu had inspired the Young Master’s recklessness. The staff were well familiar with Yu Yong’s temperament.

The Young Master was apparently in a period of extended tantrum. Every visitor was being rebuffed, even Mei Hua. The only one allowed inside was Chen Zhengyi.

Hong Fei found a servant dusting the visitor’s hall who summarized the situation nicely: “In my opinion,” the older woman said with a sniff, “the Young Master’s proud and doesn’t want anyone to see him in such a state, especially the fairy. He’s fond of her; it doesn’t take a sage to know that’s the case.”

“But what of Young Zhengyi?” Hong Fei asked the servant. He didn’t know her proper name, but people called her Soft Seven.

“He’s a sworn brother to the Young Master,” the servant replied. Her left hand trembled when unoccupied. She used it to straighten her hair in the bun she wore. More importantly, the older woman was a former scout, and her eyes were still sharp. “They would do anything for each other, those two.”

“Even lead each other into foolishness?” Hong Fei pressed.

Soft Seven gave him a look. “Isn’t that what sworn brothers do? If not leading each other into foolishness, then pulling each other out of it?”

Hong Fei offered a wry smile. He rubbed the back of his head in embarrassed agreement and said, “That’s as often true as not.”

###

At the steward’s request, Hong Fei left the estate in the afternoon with Auntie Ling. The two of them were to make a show of patrolling between the Yu family’s businesses in the high and middle sections of the city.

He found the guards at each of the shops tense and wary. When quizzed, they reported more traffic than usual on the streets in front but fewer customers. Many mentioned they felt like they were being watched.

The streets cleared of pedestrians whenever Auntie Ling was present, so Hong Fei wasn’t able to confirm it. The soldiers in the duke’s employ were experienced veterans, however. He was inclined to believe them.

At the Gallant Hero, Hong Fei took his time investigating the attack on the shop. There were several injuries among the staff and guards, but no one had been killed, which was a miracle given how the vandal had rampaged through the store. All the sculptures on display had been shattered beyond recognition.

The staff was exhausted from the ordeal, both from cleaning up afterward and answering the questions of the steward’s and the xiàowèi’s people. Ma Mo wasn’t present during Hong Fei’s visit—apparently because of his broken arm. Word was that his stalwart defense of the shop might earn him his spot at the estate again. According to the guards on duty, the manager was the one pushing for the promotion on his behalf.

That’s cheaply earned, was Hong Fei’s thought. Or is it the manager trying to get rid of a useless guard?

Later, as he resumed his patrol, Hong Fei continued to ponder the unusual nature of the attack on the store. “If the vandal was so powerful, how is it no one died?” he muttered. “Even Ma Mo survived the fight unscathed. A broken arm is nothing.”

Auntie Ling rolled her eyes. She’d had the same thought about the man’s skill at arms. The giant badger hadn’t understood many of the words spoken by the shop’s staff, but she picked up enough of the meaning from Hong Fei’s side of the interrogations to grasp of the situation.

Both summoner and summons halted their steps as a thought sprung up concurrently between them. Hong Fei voiced it: “How convenient is it that Ma Mo was there when the shop was attacked.”

The man had a proclivity for wandering, and his presence couldn’t be guaranteed unless… Did someone do Ma Mo a favor to get him back into the Yu’s good graces? Is he already comprised? If so, how far does the rot extend?

The questions plagued Hong Fei as he continued his patrol.

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