The slave column marched along, and early that afternoon they spotted the Painted City. A picturesque sight, the city was painted in myriad colors, giving it a shimmering kaleidoscopic look from afar that was thrilling. It was a vast city, made of a dozen concentric terraces the smallest of which was half the size of Hundred Fragrance City, as befit the eastern regional capitol of the Asura Empire.
They were marched in to a low gate in the first ring. The differences compared to Hundred Fragrance City were immediately apparent to Lu Chang. Rather than the multitudes of different flowers that gave Hundred Fragrance City its name, the Painted City smelled of strong spices, and faintly of iron. The bright colors of the buildings made it hard to focus on any one in particular. The people of the city followed suit with the structures, clothing themselves in resplendent colors one and all. It gave Lu Chang a headache.
As they were led further in, Lu Chang noticed that the people’s attitudes were divided in two. The vast majority of people they passed had a gold diamond marking on their forehead, and looked at their column of slaves in pity. The other, much smaller group had no marking and seemingly ignored them completely.
Most of the troupe of slavers broke off after they entered the city, leaving only a few dozen plus the two Legates to guide them onward. No one dared bar the way of the two officers, passers-by scrambling to move to the side.
Eventually they were led into a large underground warehouse where several golden-robed cultivators awaited them. The legates bowed deeply to the robed cultivators, before the golden helmed legate spoke in an official tone.
“105th Supply Legion reporting. The agreed contract for twelve-hundred meridian opening realm cultivators ready for inspection and crowning.”
One of the golden-robed cultivators stepped forward, hand stroking his long plaited beard.
“Hmm, well done. There were no issues?”
“None, sir.”
“Very well, Xu Mei will take care of the payment.”
He gestured to the woman amongst them, and she led the Legates into another room. Several more golden-robed cultivators entered the room. They separated the slaves into many different lines. One by one the robed cultivators noted down the affinity of the slaves, then held their hands around the temples of each of them.
Lu Chang was jolted from his contemplation as screams of agony erupted from each of the slaves being attended to. As he watched, the screams continued and a gold diamond marking slowly appeared on their foreheads. The marking filled in, then black thorn markings started to encircle their heads, like a crown of thorns.
At the end of the process each slave was guided out of the room by another gold-robed cultivator and the next slave in line began the process. Lu Chang had no idea what they were doing, but it was clearly some foul, unorthodox spiritual technique.
Lu Chang fell back into meditation to calm his nerves. Even here underground there were the faintest trickles of wind, and he immersed himself in them. He’d known the Asura Empire had a reputation for the foulest, forbidden techniques: sacrificial rituals, human cauldrons, and the like; to see it confirmed, though, was worse than a nightmare.
Too soon, his turn came. An elderly man with a severe mien wrote down the information given to him by the slavers, confirming it with Lu Chang.
“Wind affinity?”
Lu Chang nodded silently.
“It says here you were a pit-fighter. So they’re still playing those distasteful games, hmm? I suppose they can’t go to the real gladiator fights when they’re out doing their jobs. Still, it will raise your minimum buyout. That’s a lucky break for you.”
The casual tone the man used to converse with him was jarring to Lu Chang, as if they were acquaintances speaking over tea rather than master to slave.
After he finished his notes, the elderly man held his hands up to Lu Chang’s temples.
“Try not to struggle, young man. It’ll only hurt more.”
It began, and all Lu Chang knew was pain.
It started in his meridians, the pain feeling like thousands of hot knives stabbed into every inch of them. The foreign energies in the form of black thorns then spread to his dantian where they sought to chain down his martial spirit.
His spirit was seemingly provoked, and the winds of the storm comprising his spirit howled, blowing quicker and quicker, as if in challenge. The black thorns violently clashed against his spirit, causing Lu Chang to feel as if he were splitting apart.
Suddenly the pain ceased, and as Lu Chang looked inward he saw that the black thorns had retreated from his spirit, instead forming a spherical cage around his dantian. Lu Chang cycled his energy cautiously and felt nothing amiss.
He looked up at the elderly cultivator in confusion. The gold robed man cleared up his confusion with a speech that seemed well-rehearsed.
“You should be able to feel the chains tying down your martial spirit now. They won’t interfere with the channeling of your energy, or even opening the rest of your meridians. They will not allow you to advance to Sea Formation, though, so don’t try it. Your dantian will rupture and you will die, which is a poor investment for us. I’d recommend not cycling a cultivation technique once you’ve opened all your meridians. It’ll vastly reduce your lifespan ahahaha.”
The sadistic joke washed over Lu Chang as he contemplated the information. This must have been why they only captured first realm cultivators, and the reason why he’d never heard of any successful slave rebellions in the Asura Empire.
The thought of such ghastly energies in his dantian made him almost want to rip it out, but he restrained the intrusive thought. It would do him no good. He held some hopes that his situation was less dire than described.
The ritual had undoubtedly gone somewhat awry when the thorny chains attempted to shackle his spirit. They’d had to retreat to the edges of his dantian instead. Perhaps there would be some advantage to gain in the future from this. He could tell the golden-robed man had no idea that anything had changed. The secret art must not be under his control throughout its work.
Lu Chang was drawn from his contemplation as the golden-robed elder clapped him jovially on the shoulder.
“There, there, young fellow. Don’t be so down. Look at it this way: you were likely never going to accomplish anything in your waning country. Even a slave can make something of themselves here in the Asura Empire. Better to be the tail of a phoenix than the head of a chicken after all.”
The elder boisterously laughed at his own jape as he motioned Lu Chang along. The dissonance of the cruelty of the man’s actions and his genial nature made Lu Chang feel nauseous. He put his hands up to his head, seeing if he could feel any evidence of the gold diamond and thorny markings he knew to be there now. He could feel none, but even just the knowledge of their presence felt unnatural.
He, along with other slaves who’d already been through the ritual, were shuffled into another part of the warehouse where they were given a bucket of water, and a rough rock to scrub with. Lu Chang hated to admit it, but the chance to cleanse himself was more than welcome. Several weeks of grime and blood had left Lu Chang feeling like a wild animal.
Lu Chang had barely finished his meager bath when a coarse, white robe was thrust at him. He was careful when changing out from his old soiled robes to the new ones. Luckily no one paid him any mind as he pulled out the Wind-Chasing Steps scroll and secreted it away in his new robes.
A few hours passed, during which the rest of the new slaves were put through the secret art and clothed in the coarse, white robes. After the last of them finished, a few of the golden-robed cultivators led them out from the warehouse.
The group marched through the first ring toward the entrance up to the second. As they arrived, a group of them split off, leading a vast majority of the slaves a few yards away to an auction in the first ring. The rest of the group ascended to the second ring, where another smaller group split off to an auction there.
These first two rings were sprawling districts, streets choked with people and structures built so close together as to be nearly indistinguishable. Houses and industrial areas bled into one another such that the difference was merely academic.
Lu Chang was one of the group that still ascended to the third ring. He had no idea where he was being taken, but assumed it was a different auction further up. Each time they ascended a ring another group of slaves would break off, led by a gold-robed cultivator. By the time they’d reached the sixth ring, only a few slaves were left.
The middle rings, starting with the fourth, had been far removed from the choking claustrophobia of the lower districts. Plentiful gardens and beautiful pagodas filled these districts. The buildings were grander, too, with tall arches and beautiful architecture.
The people too, were different. The clothes were similar in color, but those in the lower rings had worn coarsely spun cloth, while those here in the middle rings wore impeccably tailored silks. Even the slaves in the middle rings wore decorative robes and jewels, much less their masters.
They were led into a large open-air forum. Inside, on different raised platforms stood hundreds of slaves. They were grouped by dozens of different criteria: elemental affinity, gender, age, hair color, even blood type. A golden-robed cultivator stood atop each platform with the slaves, introducing each of them and doing their best to sell them for a high price.
Around each platform were their clients, ranging from merchants and craftsman needing slave-assistants, to ludus owners scouting out possible gladiators, as well as noble families purchasing attendants.
Lu Chang was quickly placed on a platform. This one was clearly targeted at the ludus owners, as the gold-robed cultivator espoused the “fearsome martial arts” wielded by each of them. Lu Chang rolled his eyes at the dramatics.
The woman in the gold robe introduced each of the slaves on their platform to the crowd, highlighting their qualities. Several of the slaves were sold off to representatives of different ludi by the time it was Lu Chang’s turn.
“This is a newly arrived slave, just processed! Very young; not even eighteen yet. Perfect for those needing a long-term investment.”
The woman pulled Lu Chang forward and started to enumerate his strong points like she was hawking a piece of livestock.
“He already has some experience in pit-fighting, courtesy of the supply legion. Could be a great gladiator in the making! I know you’re interested Sir Wei!”
There’d not been much interest as she went through her well-practiced routine, so she attempted to rile up some competition by singling out one of the crowd. The aforementioned Sir Wei responded with a few questions about him, but Lu Chang was distracted from that by a strange sensation on the wind.
The feeling was hard to pinpoint; it felt like someone manipulating the wind nearby, only very subtly. It was nothing like the few times Lu Chang had seen other wind techniques in use, all blustering wind and violent gales. This felt almost like the same minute fluctuations Lu Chang himself used in the Wind-Chasing Steps, a light touch guiding and flowing with the wind.
He felt another gentle gust again and was able to track it to a newly-arrived older man in the crowd. He wore robes of such deep purple they could be mistaken for black and moved through the crowd with practiced ease, the other people moving out of his way almost naturally.
With a little more concentration, Lu Chang was able to make out soft fluctuations of wind as the man passed by each person. Lu Chang was amazed; this technique was clearly a much higher rank technique than his, and mastered to a high level.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by the jubilant voice of the gold-robed woman as she exclaimed.
“Sold! If you’ll approach the platform I will give you the slave-binding talisman, Sir Wei.”
Lu Chang was a bit startled. Apparently he’d been so preoccupied by his thoughts that he’d missed being sold off. It was a disconcerting feeling. He scrutinized this ‘Sir Wei’ who’d purchased him as he approached the platform.
Sir Wei was a portly man, dressed in robes of an eye-searing yellow shade. He was bald and beardless, seeming to Lu Chang almost like one of the Buddhas they worshipped in the jungles of the far-south. From what Lu Chang could gather from the chatter of the crowd, Sir Wei was a prominent merchant just getting into the gladiator business.
The corpulent man was not in a hurry, jowls shaking as he chatted with each person on his way to the front of the crowd. As he did so, however, another of the barely discernible wind fluctuations caught Lu Chang’s attention. He traced their origin to find the man in purple had made his way to the front of the crowd and was staring straight at Lu Chang.
Lu Chang was caught off-guard, and made to look away when his martial spirit chose that moment to make itself known. The roar of the storm filled Lu Chang’s ears, and he could feel the primal will of his spirit urging him to hold the gaze.
The boundless grandeur and fury of his martial spirit invigorated Lu Chang, soothing the mental wounds he’d accumulated since the end of the disastrous tournament. He’d forgotten the nature of his martial spirit, of himself, and the reminder had been overdue. His wind was not the gentle everyday breeze, but the destructive majesty of a typhoon.
Lu Chang stared back at the man in purple, his renewed will firming his gaze. They stared at each other for a long moment, until the purple-clad man smiled widely at him and looked away. Lu Chang was a bit confused. There had been a hint of knowledge in that smile, as if the man could see through him.
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Lu Chang was surprised yet again when a new voice rang out amongst the crowd.
“A moment, if you will, Sir Wei?”
The crowd all turned to the purple-robed man, who’d gone unnoticed until now. The gold-robed woman on the platform gasped.
“Ah! Lord Feng!”
Sir Wei had initially been dismissive of the elderly man, but his eyes bulged comically as he heard the woman.
“The head of the Feng family? Lord Feng?”
He quickly spun and bowed deeply.
“Forgive this humble merchant for not recognizing you, Lord Feng. Is there anything I can do for you?”
The elderly Lord Feng ignored the question, keeping his eyes on Lu Chang as he walked forward stroking his beard idly. He reminded Lu Chang a bit of Old Man Zhao in temperament. A pang of grief hit him at that, but much less than it had been before; the experience with his martial spirit had been a balm for his psyche.
Lord Feng approached the platform, the crowd still silent in his wake. He gave Lu Chang another once over, then nodded, apparently approving of whatever he saw. The old man turned to the pale, sweating Sir Wei and spoke.
“I’ve taken a liking to this slave. I think he would make a splendid attendant for my granddaughter. Would you consider selling him to me, Sir Wei? I assure you I won’t take advantage of you.”
Sir Wei could not agree quickly enough.
“O-of course, my lord! Think nothing of it. I’d not even paid for him yet.”
The portly man bowed yet again, and quickly vacated the area. Lord Feng chuckled softly as the man left. He turned to the gold-robed woman, who’d remained respectfully silent this whole time.
“How much do I owe you for the young man?”
The previous charisma the woman had displayed was nowhere to be found now as she sputtered.
“Oh, we couldn’t possibly accept this. Take him as a gift Lord Feng.”
The old man merely nods as if this was an expected outcome.
“Send my regards to Sect Master Zhu.”
She bowed deeply in assent and pulled out the slave-binding talisman she’d mentioned earlier. Before she could lean over to hand it to Lord Feng, a gust of wind plucked it from her hand and carried it to his. Lord Feng glanced at it, then addressed Lu Chang directly for the first time.
“Well? Come on boy I don’t have all day.”
Lu Chang shook off the whiplash he’d just experienced and scrambled off the platform to follow the old man, who had somehow already reached the exit of the forum. The crowd parted easily for him, each of them eager to get a good look at him for some reason. Their gazes ranged from envious to pitying, and Lu Chang felt he was missing a great deal of information about it all.
He chased after the old man, who’d come and gone like a spring storm. His pursuit did not end there, as the old man kept ahead of him. Lu Chang had to resort to utilizing the Wind-Chasing Steps. Even with the aid of his technique he could barely keep the back of Lord Feng in sight as he chased the man up to the seventh ring, then the eighth.
His mind was solely concentrating on his technique and the old man, so much that Lu Chang missed the splendorous displays of wealth that only intensified as they rose through the districts. He did not miss, however, the way that the old man imitated Lu Chang’s technique, only more refined. Lu Chang did his best to memorize the differences and put them into practice, much to his benefit as his ability to keep up increased.
Onwards and upwards, Lu Chang ran, always just behind the old man. Lord Feng seemed to be enjoying the chase; he laughed gaily as they ran through the streets of the upper rings, merely a blur in the wind to most people.
Eventually they entered the tenth ring, and Lord Feng rushed off to the eastern side of the district. Before long a majestic metal gate carved in the shape of enormous wings loomed in front of them. Lord Feng stopped in front of it, the guards on either side of the gate saluting respectfully to him.
Lu Chang took a few more seconds to catch up, and stopped short as he realized he had no idea what was going on. Lord Feng turned back from where he was conversing with the guards to give Lu Chang a taunting grin that would have been more appropriate on a schoolboy, confusing him even more.
Lu Chang put it out of mind for the moment, choosing to survey the area he found himself in. The gate before them was the only opening in a long, tall wall made of alabaster and inscribed with runic markings that glowed with violet spiritual energy. Beyond the gate, he could see fields of spirit herbs that Lu Chang had only seen drawings of, and beyond that, the most luxurious manor house he’d ever seen.
As he looked at it he realized that it was not just one manor, but a whole compound. He recalled Sir Wei had said that Lord Feng was the head of his family. Clearly this Feng family was wealthy to a level that Lu Chang could not even comprehend.
Lu Chang suppressed his bewilderment as Lord Feng beckoned him in. The two guards paid him no heed as he walked behind the old man.
Lu Chang realized on entry he had very much underestimated the size of the Feng compound. The spirit herb fields were only a small part of the land. There were also large areas to practice martial arts, smaller fields lined with runic arrays to concentrate only one kind of spiritual energy inside, and even fields with seemingly no purpose but to allow herds of spirit beasts to roam.
It was not a long walk to the compound, but this time Lord Feng seemed in no hurry. He stopped to say hello to nearly every person they passed on the pathway. Mostly this consisted of young family disciples out practicing, but he even stopped to greet the slaves, much to Lu Chang’s surprise.
The compound itself was vast, the buildings structured in an extremely bizarre, interconnected manner that seemed both alien and familiar to Lu Chang. Lord Feng led Lu Chang to one of the smaller buildings on the edge of the compound. Anywhere else Lu Chang would have called this building opulent, but it was drab in comparison to the rest of the compound.
Inside they passed only slaves, who all knelt down with their heads banging the floor upon seeing Lord Feng. Lu Chang followed him into a large inner room, where there was an elderly man in soft-green robes shouting orders to dozens of slaves. Upon Lord Feng’s entry the elderly man turned and bowed deeply, along with all the slaves. Lu Chang merely stood awkwardly in the back.
“Lord Clan Head! You honor this servant with your presence. What can I do for you?”
Lord Feng huffed good-naturedly before responding.
“How many times have I told you just to call me Feng Hong? I’ve known you since you were born and you still can’t call me by name.”
The elderly man stayed bowing.
“As I’ve said before, that would be disrespectful, my lord.”
“One day. One day it will happen.”
The clan head sighed, then brightened up.
“Little Lao, I followed an unexpected breeze this afternoon and found a quite interesting young man. If I remember correctly, little MeiMei still doesn’t have an attendant does she? What do you think of him?”
Lu Chang listened closely, curious about his master-to-be as the old butler inspected him. His anger at being enslaved still burned deep inside, a roiling storm of hatred. He was helpless for now, though, and so could only bide his time and bury that hatred deep down.
He would take every advantage and learn all he could about his masters, and then make a plan to escape. Thinking back to all he’d seen on the journey to the compound, though, Lu Chang realized it might not be as simple as he’d thought.
Lu Chang was drawn from his thoughts as the old butler finished his inspection, though Lu Chang had no idea what he was looking for or how he found it. The servant nodded to Lord Feng.
“Acceptable. I assume you want me to educate him properly?”
Lord Feng nodded jovially.
“Of course! Only the best for little MeiMei. I haven’t given her a present in a while. She’ll be cross with me.”
A doting smile appeared on his face, making him seem a mere grandpa spoiling his grandchildren rather than the powerful cultivator Lu Chang knew he must be. The old butler nodded in agreement.
“Very well. I’ll whip him into shape.”
At that, Lord Feng left as abruptly as the breeze, leaving Lu Chang with the old butler. The elderly man ignored Lu Chang as he continued to order about the dozens of slaves still in the room. Only after they had all left for one task or another did he turn his attention to Lu Chang.
“Well boy, at least you know how to wait patiently.”
Lu Chang had to utilize all his self-control not to glare. He’d had enough of old men commenting on his patience, or lack thereof. The old butler sat down before he addressed Lu Chang again.
“Listen up. For our time together I am the only one you answer to. You’ll call me Old Butler or Sir, nothing else. I don’t care where you’re from. Whatever sob story landed a young man like you as a slave: I. Don’t. Care. From now on you have no past. You are an attendant of the Feng clan, the violet clan of the painted families. That is your only identity.”
The provocative speech washed over Lu Chang, barely causing him to blink. He’d already firmed his resolve, and nothing could taint it. He would play the part of docile slave, but would never give up his identity. Lu Chang felt the conviction resonate with his martial spirit within as its winds roared in response.
Perhaps misinterpreting his silence as assent, the old butler nodded.
“Well if you can keep your calm with that kind of provocation then you might actually be a fit attendant for the young lady.”
He stood abruptly, motioning for Lu Chang to follow him. They walked through the corridors of the slave quarters while the butler continued.
“Your time with me will be divided into a few phases. First, learning about the Feng clan and its place in the Painted City. Second, learning the etiquette and expectations of a normal slave in the Feng clan. Third, learning the specialized skills of an attendant for the young lady. Fourth and last, learning the guardian martial arts of the Feng clan martial slaves.”
There was a long silence while they walked as Lu Chang digested the information. The old butler stopped at one of the many doors lining the corridor, and opened it to reveal a tiny bedroom.
“Before all that, though. Get some sleep, boy. You look dead on your feet. Be at the room you found me in by dawn and we’ll start your training.”
The butler walked away purposefully after that, leaving Lu Chang to inspect his new living situation. It was much better than he’d expected for a slave, though he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised given the wealth he’d seen on display.
Lu Chang sat down on the straw mattress and tried to center himself. It had been a trying day. He was no longer subject to the cruelty of the 105th Supply Legion, but for all he knew this Feng clan could be worse.
He’d be on his guard, and give them no reason to suspect anything of him. Until he was ready to escape, Lu Chang would be a model slave. He would escape eventually, though. For his mother, for Li Feng, for the innocent people of Hundred Fragrance City he would escape and have revenge on those slavers. Before then, though, he could not let life as a slave break him.
As was his custom, Lu Chang meditated before he slept. After the happenings at the slave auction earlier that day he’d felt an increased closeness with his martial spirit, and he was interested to see if anything had changed.
Lu Chang was happily surprised as he looked inward. His eighth meridian had miraculously opened, similarly to his first one during the lesser enlightenment at Old Man Zhao’s manor. The resonance between himself and his martial spirit must have been the catalyst.
He cycled his spiritual energy through the newly opened meridian and immersed himself in the feeling of advancing. Eventually, though, Lu Chang frowned, remembering the cage of thorns around his dantian. He was on a shorter timer than most with his innately high advancement speed.
He’d just have to escape and find a way to remove the effects of the secret art before it became a problem. He had no current options to pursue, so Lu Chang put it out of mind for now. The rest of the night was spent in a fitful sleep, his body still on edge from the time with the slavers.
The next months were spent learning from the old butler. He would accompany the elderly servant in his duties, all the while being lectured at. It was much less onerous than Lu Chang could have ever anticipated. While the old butler had a heavy hand when something was done wrong, there was none of the casual cruelty of the slavers present.
During this time accompanying the old butler, Lu Chang found that the slaves outnumbered the actual Feng clan members almost three to one. There were slaves for everything the clan required. The slaves seemed to have a large amount of autonomy as well, to Lu Chang’s surprise.
There were even groups of slaves allowed to venture out of the city to gather resources for the family. The concept was strange to Lu Chang, but he supposed there was no point in running away. Without some way to get rid of the crown of thorns it would be moot.
In those first few weeks, Lu Chang was lectured on the history of the Feng family and the Painted City. The origins of the Painted City were mysterious to say the least. It had existed long before the Asura Empire had, and had only been annexed by the empire after many concessions millennia ago.
The Feng clan was part of the so-called ‘Painted Families,’ the ruling families of the city. While unknown if any of them had actually founded the city, they’d been in power as long as anyone cared to remember, or record.
The Painted Families numbered twelve, each associated with a color that described them. The Feng clan was the Violet clan, owing to their inherited martial spirit, the Violet-Eyed Stormhawk.
There were a few lesser families that served each of the Painted Families, of which the old butler was a member, and Lu Chang was told to memorize each of the Painted Families and their subordinates. It was no trouble for Lu Chang, and he quickly moved on to the next phase of his training.
The weeks after that he was taught the principal etiquette of a slave in the Feng family. He learned how to address different family members based on their position in the family. He memorized each of the locations of the compound and the surrounding lands, in case a member of the family sent him to fetch or deliver something.
He spent a few days with each of the different slave groups: the spirit herb caretakers, the household staff, the array maintainers, the guards, and so-on. By the end of that phase of his training he was able to do any of the tasks a specialized slave of the clan could do.
The third phase of his training was again completed with the old butler. He explained that each member of the main family bloodline was granted an attendant slave. They were trained to be confidants and helpers to the main family.
Lu Chang was trained in how to anticipate what his master might need. His loyalty to his master was to even supersede his loyalty to the clan as a whole. Attendants were to be shadows of their master, their right hand in a way.
The last phase of his training was over nearly as soon as it began. Lu Chang’s prodigious talent in martial arts let him learn the slave-guardian arts of the clan very quickly. These consisted of a set of martial arts centered on defending the attendant’s master while they could focus on offense.
It also included a versatile neutral element battle skill called the Feng Barrier skill that enabled the user to form solid barriers of spiritual energy. Lu Chang was glad to add this to his repertoire. Until now his only defense had been to not be hit. The barriers were not insurmountable, but the skill was versatile in their shape and location.
After about a week of training, Lu Chang was deemed proficient in the martial arts and battle skill. During the months of training he’d also opened his ninth and tenth meridians, much to his simultaneous delight and dismay.
After a few days of rest, he was summoned by the old butler again. Lu Chang found him in the same room as he always was in the morning, directing the slaves. After they were gone, the butler beckoned him closer.
“You’re ready, boy. A fine attendant you’ll make for the young lady. I had misgivings about you at first. You seemed too detached, like you’d given up on life. Not uncommon for slaves.”
The old man coughed violently, then poured himself a cup of tea, and for the first time gestured for Lu Chang to sit down across from him. Surprised, Lu Chang did so, and the old man poured tea for him as well.
“I was wrong, though. You’ve got a firm will, I can tell. You’ll help the young lady do great things. Ahh, listen to this old man ramble. You’re a good kid, Lu Chang. I’m glad to have trained you.”
Despite himself and the burning hatred he buried deep within, Lu Chang could not help but be touched by the genuine fondness the old butler showed him. He’d be lying to himself if he’d not developed some attachment to the grumpy old man. The dissonance between what he felt and what Lu Chang thought he should feel was a constant source of discontent.
Putting the unsettling thoughts aside for now, Lu Chang smiled gently at the old man.
“You’re not so bad yourself, sir.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a time, finishing their tea. Afterwards the old butler spoke again, more seriously this time.
“You’ll be presented to the young lady tomorrow. Do your best to make a good impression. She’ll be your master and you’ll be her closest confidant, so don’t screw it up.”
Lu Chang nodded in agreement.
He went to sleep that evening dreaming of home.