It was going to be a good day, Xiaomei decided.

She had told Dan and Hyun that they needed to stop their nightly practice sessions, the two boys had agreed quickly and something about that made Xiaomei smile. Thinking back even just a few weeks, she might not have shared her feelings or advice. The Sasin forest had been a harrowing experience, but she had learned that there were much scarier things in this world than speaking your mind.

She shivered, remembering the gruesome puppetmaster and its mana threads. As usual, Xiaomei had a length of ribbon in her hands. Holding it loosely between her thumb and index finger of her right hand, she pulled with the left and felt the soft tickle of the fabric as it brushed over her skin. The ribbon was red today, Xiaomei frowned and increased the pace of her fidgeting.

It was an omen, though fortune-telling of any kind was mostly a sham. Xiaomei’s foresight was not as potent as some of the dreamweavers in the Guan family, but she performed the ritual each morning all the same. Red meant passion. That… was good, right? The already fervent fidgeting increased in pace once more and the distracted girl realised that sitting in her room was going to do her no good right now.

There were two prime worries on her mind, and to the fifteen year old Xiaomei, both were of life-threatening importance. The first life threatened wasn’t her own though, but Dan’s. Her worries for the boy were impressive considering she had only known Guan Ah Dan for a few days before he was taken and hidden away for weeks. She looked at the crimson ribbon in her hands again before hanging it into the threads of her room.

When the ribbon was placed, Xiaomei stood by her door and tilted her head. It looked right, the slash of red falling in front of the assorted mass of chaotic colour. It didn’t feel right though, and that was strange. The art of ribbon reading was as precise as reading tea leaves, which is to say not very precise, but Xiaomei knew that even if you couldn’t see why it made sense, it would when the dust settled.

If a day was set to be plain, her ribbon might be a plain beige or brown. If it was going to be a trying day, she might get a deep blue, maybe a venomous looking green. Depending on how they fit onto her “web of fate”, a name she would be embarrassed to share, Xiaomei could get a sense for the events that might occur. It helped her to prepare for the day when she had an idea what was coming.

During the time in the Sasin forest, her ribbon had been consistently split between a shining silver and a yellow that reminded Xiaomei of bile. When colours on the ribbon split, or formed patterns, it was just another layer of inspection. The strange ribbon from the forest expedition had been a difficult one to place, and had stood out from the rest of her jumble. Now, though, there was a clear through line that was hard to ignore. The red ribbon’s start had felt most natural when connected to the thread from the forest. The pristine silver and nasty vomit coloured ribbon joined with the red, which leapt right into the tangled ball in the centre of the mess.

Sometimes it was difficult to piece together, and sometimes it was screaming at you like a demon.

So, she thought, something happened in the forest which was a mix of purity and impurity. Xiaomei’s ability to read the ribbons was potent, her mother - a distant cousin to the main branch of the family - often wanted Xiaomei’s opinion on her own ribbon readings. Well, that could be a lot of things. Xiaomei blushed, thinking of the good which had come from her time in the Sasin forest. Dan and Hyun’s howling laughter after the battle made her smile.

The vomit was probably Fa Lian. That was just a petulant thought, but it continued fueling the smile on her face. No. Obviously the nasty, grotesque puppetmaster and the nightmares Xiaomei received from it were the disgusting threat her thread had warned of at that time. The mana which the puppetmaster had used felt so terribly familiar to how her own magic worked that for a few nights now, Xiaomei had awoken with cramped hands. Cramped from playing with her puppets.

Stolen novel; please report.

She shook away the stressful thoughts which that line of thinking caused, and delved into a more appropriate anxiety. The red thread. A heavily fateful thread. There were rare smatterings of red amongst the generally mud and cream coloured bundle already. Each of those had been days that left a lasting mark on Xiaomei’s life. She had decided earlier that today was going to be a good one, and there wasn’t anything specifically saying that it wasn’t, but Xiaomei did find herself wishing the ribbon had been a little less bombastic today. She twisted some loose fabric around her wrist and finished her morning ritual.

Hyun Soon had said that he needed to see a teacher today, so he would be busy until later. Until then, Xiaomei really had nothing to do. It was an incredible rarity in her life, so she grasped the opportunity to make use of it. Already she had slept an entire twenty minutes more than she normally would, and spent an extra fifteen minutes waking up slowly. She almost regretted it, at seeing the red thread, but her content body and sharp mind thanked her all the same. Perhaps taking her time today was exactly why it would be a good day.

There was a tome with a historical recounting of a brave warrior saving a battleworn maiden waiting for Xiaomei in the Jaioduo library, and today she would finally read it again. She had stumbled onto it years ago when performing a task for her mother, and upon seeing the gold leaf inlays and being captured by the title, The Romances, Xiaomei had long ago decided she would read that book on a day that felt auspicious. Her plan made, Xiaomei stopped trying to glean the future from the tangled weavings of her ribbons and turned to open the door.

Right before her hand touched the wooden door, there was a knock. It was not the polite sound of someone asking for entry, but a brutish smack meant to intimidate. It was successful, Xiaomei flinched and took a step back. Confirming that there was no asking for permission, the door slid open quickly.

In an insane moment, Xiaomei found herself still somehow hoping that the door would open to the large bulk of Hyun Soon and his happy, toothy smile. There was a dissonance as the figure that stepped through the doorframe was a more similar build to Xiaomei herself. Tall for her age, Xiaomei was eye level with the intruder, staring right into eyes so indifferent it scared her.

“You’re Xiaomei, right?” Guan Po Daiyu walked into the room without waiting for an answer. Her eyebrow raised at the jumble of ribbons, but she made no comment on them as she passed Xiaomei and took a seat on the end of her bed. Following Po Daiyu was another man, clad in a hooded green cloak. There were scripts on the cloak, but as Xiaomei tried to focus on the man, her eyes started to hurt and she found that she couldn’t. Some spell was woven into the fabric to make it impossible to concentrate.

“Don’t worry about him, pay attention to me.” That was easier said than done, Xiaomei both wanted to turn away from the corner with the cloaked figure and found it nearly impossible. A sound like a whipped stick through the air snapped Xiaomei’s attention neatly, however. Her bed was partially shredded, feathers falling like heavy clumps of snow. “Better.”

“What-,” Xiaomei interrupted herself, “how can I help you, lady Guan?”

There were bruises around Guan Po Daiyu’s face, her lip had a small, angry looking scab and her right cheekbone was heavily powdered. As she smiled, her lip cracked. A viper’s smile, it alone sent a shock of adrenaline through Xiaomei. She wanted to run, but the hooded man was set heavy, blocking the door just by standing before it.

“How indeed,” Guan Po Daiyu’s smile widened, “I’ve been wondering if I need any help. You know how it is, I’m sure.” The woman was being casual, but it was like someone being blasé with a bomb. Every gesticulation could be the end for Xiaomei, and everyone in the room knew it. “And yet, here I am,” she brushed her cheekbone with the back of her left hand, “being told what to do and how to do it.”

Xiaomei was content to let her speak, but worried that she would churn herself into a frenzy. The air in the room felt like razors, and even breathing felt like it might get her throat slit.

“So, here we are. Why are you in this hovel, anyway? Aren’t you some branch family bastard?” Words leapt into Xiaomei’s throat, caught only by the razor wire mesh of air that she couldn’t pierce. She wanted to defend… something. Herself. Her mother. The unfairness of it all. Instead she continued waiting in shivering silence. “Who cares?” Po Daiyu continued inspecting the room, violating it with her casual ignorant gaze. This was Xiaomei’s private space.

“What do you know about Guan Ah Dan?” She finally asked the big question. The bruises he had given the woman were internal, Xiaomei knew, but they probably stung more than the ones she currently wore.

“I know he beat you. I know you struck him and blinded him and made him angry and different. I know he’s kind, but he’s terrified of what will happen to the people he cares about.” There were lots of answers Xiaomei wanted to give. Many more than her mind conjured in that moment of fancy. She said none of those things, though. Instead, she simply said “not much.” There was truth to the statement, but not enough for Po Daiyu.

“I need much more than that.” Po Daiyu’s eyes moved to her ally behind Xiaomei as she spoke. Replacing the piano wire feeling in the air was an ignition. The bomb that Xiaomei had imagined earlier very literally filled the air. Intuition striking again. Another thread becomes clear once you understand it. Guan Po Daiyu had vicious mana, but she wasn’t the most dangerous thing in the room, at all.

Xiaomei buckled. It was too much. She wasn’t a spy, or a battle-hardened veteran. Just a fifteen year old girl, surrounded by explosives and sharp edges. “What do you need to know?” She asked, throat and eyes burning in pure sadness.