That night, a dark shadow slipped into the Imperial Palace through the servant’s entrance, its shoes tapping quietly against the polished stone tiles. The lights in the kitchens and the servant’s quarters were out, and not a sound was to be heard. All but the guards were asleep, tucked away soundly in the dormitories, and no one was there to witness the shadow’s infiltration.

Lin quietly closed and locked the door to the servant’s entrance, using the fake keys that she’d bribed a servant into giving her a key mould for. She knew that this would be risky. Should she be caught, her life would end regardless if she’d woven the remaining five threads or not.

She snuck out through the kitchens and into the servant dormitories, hugging the rough stone walls so as to blend in with the shadows. It was a long walk to the Emperor’s section of the Imperial Palace, but the servants’ walkways stretched throughout the palace, making it easier for her to get close to where she had to be without running into too much opposition.

Once, she had to duck into the shadow of a pillar as footsteps came echoing down the hallway. At that time, a guard had come trooping down the corridor, one hand holding a paper lantern, the other resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword.

“Damn Ah Li and his greediness,” he had muttered in a low voice as he walked past her hiding place. “Always causing trouble.”

With a swing of the lantern, he turned the corner and disappeared. Lin waited a few moments with bated breath, just to ensure that he’d truly gone, before pressing on.

The stone tiles gave way to polished wood as she left the servants’ section of the palace and stepped into what was considered the true Imperial Palace, decked with gold ornaments spelling out the wealth of the Yang Kingdom. The bright red pillars of the hallways were hidden mostly in shadow, the dim light of the oil lamps lining the walls casting flickering shadows on the painted surfaces.

Occasionally, Lin would pass by a door inlaid with rice paper windows, leading deeper into the Imperial Palace. There, the echoing sounds of boots against wood could be heard as the guards patrolled the vicinity.

Being even more cautious than she had been previously, she snuck past the guards, making sure to keep her footfalls light.

According to the map she’d bribed her way into getting, she was supposed to turn right here.

She looked up and surveyed the intersection she was at. Forwards, backwards, left… but no right hallway. All that led to the right was a blank wall.

She studied her map again. Maybe she had taken a wrong turn somewhere? She headed back down the corridor, and checked the map again, only to find herself in a completely different place than she had remembered. A courtyard, flanked by peach trees, similar but different to the courtyard she had taken the Imperial Exam in.

Voices. She ducked behind another pillar as a pair of guards appeared in the doorway of the hallway opposite to the one she had come out of, her heart pounding.

“What do you think his Majesty’s waiting for?” she caught snippets of their conversation as they patrolled through the courtyard.

“A nonexistent sign.”

“If someone heard you say that, then you would—”

“There’s no one here. Just you, me, tian and the earth. None of who would tell.”

The sound of footsteps faded into the distance. She took the chance to peek out from behind the pillar. The courtyard was empty once more.

At this rate, she’d get caught. She had to hurry.

She tried to find her bearings on the map a second time, finding herself once again confused as she stumbled this way and that through the twisted maze of the Imperial Palace. Was it left this time? Or was she holding the map upside down?

Through the window, she could see the moon hanging high in the sky, a brilliant silver disc amidst a speckled shroud of stars. Midnight already? She still had a ways away before she could get to the Emperor’s chambers, and she was already lost… She still had to get in and out before anyone noticed, and not to mention…

She was definitely out of her league. She had been overconfident in her abilities given her ability to see Fate, and forgotten that no matter how able she was, she was still a young woman with no experience or training in infiltrating guarded mansions.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

She took a deep breath to calm her racing thoughts. No matter. She would retrace her footsteps. Surely there was a landmark around here somewhere that she recogni—

THUMP.

Something hard hit her in the back of her neck. Colours flashed before her eyes, and she collapsed to her knees. She hadn’t even heard anyone approaching her, where did they—

She was yanked back upright by the roots of her hair by a gruff hand, causing her to cry out in pain.

“An amateur,” she blurrily saw someone hoist her up into the light of a paper lantern. “At both stealth and information gathering. I thought Ah Li said that the briber was a guy. You sure this is the one?”

“We’ll keep searching for more. Either way, the Emperor was expecting a guest tonight,” said another voice. “Send her in.”

She struggled to keep herself awake for longer, but eventually, her concentration fell, and she slipped off into unconsciousness.

***

The first time Lin had seen General Xie had been when she was ten years old.

“Who are you?” she had asked the white haired old man that had suddenly appeared in her backyard. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

The old man chuckled.

“My name is Xie Bi’An. I am a General of the underworld. You could call me… a family friend.”

“Underworld? Is that where you go when you die?” Her family had told little Lin much about the underworld, hoping to acquaint her with death earlier than her peers. After all, as Weavers of Fate, they would likely leave the world of the living much earlier than others.

“Yes, it is,” if General Xie had been surprised by the little girl’s nonchalance, he didn’t show it. “It is the place that mortals go after living out their role.”

“Role? You mean tian ming?” Lin tilted her head. “Mama always told me that it was tian ming that made me a Weaver of Fate.”

“Indeed,” General Xie nodded. “At your age, you will likely have already started seeing your first threads.”

“Yeah!” Lin held up her hand to reveal a thick bundle of intertwining red threads. “There are so many of them though… I’ll never get through them all!”

“You will with time,” he said. “With time, you will weave the threads of Fate, in the pattern that you deem best.”

“I get to decide how to weave them?”

“Why yes, of course. You get to decide whether the outcome is good, bad, or neutral.”

“But Mama always said that us Weavers have to follow the will of tian ming. Papa, brother, and Grandfather too. If tian ming says that it’s good, I have to make it good. If it says that it’s bad, I have to make it bad. It’s my duty.”

“Duty… such irony. And do you have an example of a thread that is bad?”

“Yeah! Tian ming says… says…” Lin sifted through her bundle of threads. “Uhh… tian ming says that Granny Li’s cat will die at ten years old.”

“And is that a bad thing?”

“Of course!”

“Hmm… let’s say her cat is fated to die either way. This is true for all things, regardless of whether it’s written in the threads.”

“Okay…?”

“Let’s say her cat was healthy and happy, and pleased with life. Then one day, it was run over, and thus passed away.”

“That’s terrible!”

“Indeed,” General Xie waved his bamboo fan. “But let’s say that instead, the cat was old and was plagued with aches and pains. One day, it passed peacefully in its sleep.”

“That’s… not as bad as the first one.”

“Indeed. In both cases, the cat dies at ten years old. But whether such is a good thing or a bad thing depends on the events leading up to it, no?”

“Yeah… But what has that got to do with the will of tian ming?”

“Tian ming is neither good nor evil,” said General Xie. “It just is. What is known as the will of tian ming is simply the natural course of all things.”

“I don’t get it…”

“A strong wind can scatter seeds to faraway places, or it can topple trees and bring death to the plant. A rainstorm can irrigate the crops, or it can sweep them away and ruin the harvest. Is the wind good or evil? What about the rainstorm?”

“Umm…”

“It is simply what is natural,” said General Xie gently. “Just like your role as a Weaver of Fate. Things like duty and benevolence are man-made concepts. Only you are able to decide what to make of them.”

“I get to decide my duty?”

“Indeed,” General Xie’s dark eyes gleamed.

“So, little Lin. Is your duty to yourself? Your people? Or this man-made interpretation of tian ming?”