Chapter 26: Divine Messenger
A choked gasp came from behind them. They spun around. Wong Lei, who had followed them out of the salon, clutched her head. Her eyes rolled back, and a familiar, cold spiritual signature erupted from her. It was the same entity Zhang Wei had violently expelled from Su Yao’s aunt earlier.
This time, the spirit was stronger. It held fast.
Wong Lei’s body straightened, her posture becoming rigid and formal. When she spoke, the voice was a layered, ethereal echo, completely alien to her.
“Su Yao. Nine-Tails. Hear me. I am a servant of Jinse, She Who Weaves Vows, Goddess of Binding and Contracts.” The voice was frantic, laced with static-like panic. “My Lady is taken! The seal-weaver, your old drinking companion! Her sanctuary is breached! She calls on the debt of shared wine! She needs—”
With the message cut off abruptly, the spirit’s focus shifted to Su Yao’s face which radiated a genuine, unfeigned delight.
“Kitty!” Su Yao squealed, clapping her hands together. The sound was utterly incongruous with the urgency of the moment.
She reached out and patted the possessed Wong Lei on the head, affectionately ruffling her hair. “It is you! The little messenger spirit from Jinse’s court! The one who always got tangled in her own threads! I missed you!”
The spirit, using Wong Lei’s mouth, stared, its urgent message derailed by the bizarre reception. “I… what? Great Fox, did you not hear me? My Lady—”
“Of course I heard you, silly thing. Jinse is in a spot of trouble.” Su Yao’s smile was radiant, utterly lacking concern. “How nostalgic! It has been too long since I have had a proper divine kidnapping to deal with.”
Having delivered its message, the spirit attempted to leave the mortal vessel immediately. It recoiled, pulling its energy inward to detach.
Nothing happened.
It tried again, straining against the confines of Wong Lei’s body. The body remained solid, perfectly tethered. Wong Lei’s eyes widened in the spirit’s rising panic.
“What is this? What did you do?” the spirit demanded, its voice trembling. It looked accusingly at Su Yao, then at Zhang Wei. “What binding have you placed on this vessel? Release me!”
Su Yao’s smile gained a razor’s edge. “I have done nothing, little Kitty.” She glanced at Zhang Wei, who shook his head minutely, his hands far from a talisman.
“Then why can I not leave?” the spirit wailed, trapped within a terrified, part-time hairdresser and weeb.
Su Yao’s smirk was a blade of cold amusement. “How should I know? But I am starting to have a very solid theory. You are from that orphanage, aren’t you, Wong Lei? The one that screened children for sensitivity.”
She circled the frozen, panicked form of the possessed girl. “They deemed you a failure. Not sensitive enough. But what if they were installing things? A latent capacity, slumbering in the rejects. Perhaps a spiritual cage, designed to trap.”
Su Yao stopped in front of Wong Lei, looking her up and down with clinical interest. “It would explain why you could never properly wield a talisman. Your spirit was built for containment. A living prison for wayward energies. No wonder you were so obsessed with the occult. You were a lock trying to find its key.”
A slow, satisfied smile spread across her face. “I am rather glad I stopped you from entering that crumbling orphanage. Who knows what other triggers they left buried in you.”
Her gaze then shifted back to the trapped “Kitty.” Ancient, predatory playfulness returned.
“Well, since you are stuck here as both messenger and postage stamp, you might as well make yourself useful. Let’s verify your identity, shall we? The real Kitty would know her old tricks.”
Su Yao pointed a commanding finger at the ground. “Sit.”
To Zhang Wei’s horror, Wong Lei’s body immediately folded, dropping into a perfect sitting position on the dirty pavement. Her back was straight, her hands on her knees, like a trained dog.
“Good Kitty,” Su Yao purred. “Now, play dead.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Wong Lei’s body flopped onto its side on the concrete, lying perfectly still, eyes wide open.
“Roll over.”
The body obediently rolled onto its other side.
Zhang Wei stared, his stomach churning. A young woman was possessed by a divine messenger, forced to perform dog tricks by a nine-tailed fox, all on a public sidewalk. This was a surreal, deeply unsettling violation of every known law.
“Enough,” Su Yao said, her verification complete. “Up.”
Wong Lei’s body sprang back to its feet, standing at attention. The spirit within radiated a mixture of humiliation and relief.
“See?” Su Yao said to Zhang Wei, noting his pale, disturbed expression. “It is definitely her. The real Kitty was always so well-trained.” She patted the possessed Wong Lei’s head again. “Now, lead on, postage stamp. To Jinse. And try to look less constipated. It’s unbecoming for a divine courier.”
As the possessed Wong Lei shuffled forward to lead the way, Su Yao’s amused expression hardened. She turned to Zhang Wei, the playful glint in her eyes replaced by a sharp, disapproving gleam.
“And you,” she said, her voice losing its purr. “You are the one who expelled little Kitty the first time, when she tried to speak through my aunt.”
Zhang Wei stiffened, his professional defensiveness rising. “It was a hostile spiritual entity attempting to possess a civilian! My duty was to neutralize the threat. I had no way of knowing its intent. For all I knew, it was attempting to re-establish your dominion over the local spirit world, or force a pact upon a mortal.”
Su Yao stared at him as if he had just declared the sky was green. “That is the most stupid thing I have ever heard,” she stated, her voice flat with disbelief. “Why would Kitty do that? She is a good girl. A diligent, if slightly clumsy, messenger. She works for Jinse, the Goddess of Contracts. Her entire existence is about delivering messages and upholding agreements.”
She shook her head in disappointment. “You see a spirit and your first thought is ‘dominion’? You government tools are so paranoid you would attack a postal worker for delivering a telegram.”
Before Zhang Wei could form a rebuttal, Su Yao rummaged in a small, seemingly bottomless pouch at her waist. She pulled out a classic glass bottle of milk, the kind with a red foil cap.
“Here, Kitty,” she said, her tone softening as she handed it to the possessed Wong Lei. “You have had a long journey.”
The spirit within Wong Lei took the bottle with both hands. “Oh, thank you, Great Fox!” the layered voice echoed, and she began drinking greedily, the bottle tipping up with a series of desperate gulps.
Zhang Wei watched, the surrealism once again overwhelming him. “Why do you have a bottle of milk?”
Su Yao kept her attention on the drinking spirit. “It helps with hangovers,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “The lactic acid and fats are excellent for settling a turbulent spiritual core after overindulgence. Even divine messengers need to sober up.”
She watched as Kitty finished the milk with a final, satisfied sigh. “Better?”
“Much better, Great Fox. Thank you,” the spirit said, now sounding considerably less frantic.
“Good. Now, no more delays. Jinse is waiting.” Su Yao gave the possessed Wong Lei a gentle push forward. “And you,” she shot a final glance at Zhang Wei, “try to use that government-trained brain for something other than worst-case scenarios. It’s terribly unimaginative.”
Zhang Wei watched the possessed Wong Lei shuffle forward, milk bottle still clutched in one hand. Every one of his professional instincts screamed in protest. He stepped closer to Su Yao, his voice low and urgent.
“Xiao Ling, think. This could be a trap. The timing is too convenient. A message from a goddess you know, delivered by a spirit you recognize, using a vessel we just discovered has unique binding properties? It reeks of setup. The Yamato, or this ‘Nue,’ could be using your past connections to lure you into a vulnerable position.”
Su Yao glanced at him, a brilliant, terrifying smile lighting up her face. Her eyes sparkled with genuine excitement.
“Zhang Wei,” she said, her voice dripping with anticipatory delight. “If it’s a trap, then it’s going to be even better.”
He stared at her, baffled. “How could it possibly be better?”
“Think, tool!” she chided, as if explaining something simple to a child. “A simple rescue is a chore, a straightforward favor. But a trap? That means they have studied me. They have woven a plot using my own history as the bait and are expecting me. They will have surprises prepared like ambushes. Perhaps even a worthy opponent or two waiting in the wings.”
She clapped her hands together softly, a gesture of pure glee. “That transforms a boring errand into a thrilling game! It becomes a test of wits and power! They have built a stage, and they don’t realize they are just the opening act for my performance.”
A fond yet ruthless expression appeared on her face as she looked ahead at the dutifully plodding Kitty. “And if poor Jinse is truly caught in the middle, well, that just raises the stakes and makes the victory all the more satisfying. Rescuing a friend from a well-laid trap? it’s the perfect package!”
Su Yao picked up her pace, looping her arm through Zhang Wei’s and pulling him along, her strength undeniable.
“So, let’s hope it’s a trap,” she concluded, her voice a happy whisper. “It has been so long since anyone bothered to put on a proper show just for me. Now, come on. We mustn’t keep our hosts waiting. And do try to look suitably menacing when we spring their delightful surprise. It’s only polite.”
The possessed Wong Lei came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the sidewalk, her shoulders slumping. “Great Fox, there is a problem,” Kitty’s layered voice trembled with distress. “It has been too long since my Lady was taken. The spiritual trail, it has faded. I am no longer certain where she is being held. I have failed you.”
Su Yao reached out and patted her head, her touch uncharacteristically gentle. “Shhh, it’s okay, little Kitty. You did your best. You delivered the message, and that is what matters most. We will figure it out from here.”
Zhang Wei stared, his brow furrowed in utter bewilderment. “You are… being nice? Since when do you comfort spirits or apologize for anything?”
Su Yao shot him a look that was both amused and exasperated. “What? I like cats. They are cute, loyal, and they don’t talk back. Except when they don’t meet my expectations, then they are annoying. But Kitty here has been a good kitten, so she deserves a little praise.”
She turned back to the spirit, her voice firm but kind. “Now, think, Kitty. Any last known location? A scent? A direction? Anything at all that might help?”
The spirit within Wong Lei fidgeted, clutching the empty milk bottle. “I—I remember a place of old stone and weeping willows. Near water. And the air smelled of rust. But it was fading even as I fled.”
Su Yao’s eyes gleamed. “Old stone and weeping willows? That narrows it down. There is only one place in this city that fits that description: the abandoned Shuiyuan Temple by the river.”
Her gentle demeanor vanished into predatory excitement. “See? Not a problem after all. Let’s go. And if anyone gets in our way, well, that just adds to the fun.”
Before the possessed Wong Lei could take another step, Su Yao moved with blinding speed. She leaned in and bit down sharply on the back of Wong Lei’s neck.
A brilliant, silvery light erupted from the point of contact. Wong Lei’s body convulsed, then began to shift and change. The cheap salon uniform dissolved into motes of light, replaced by robes of pristine white and gold.
Wong Lei’s form grew taller, more poised. Her face, still bearing Wong Lei’s basic structure, was now etched with an otherworldly grace, her eyes glowing with pure golden light. Two elegant, silvery feline ears twitched atop her head, and a single, powerful tail swished behind her.
This was the divine messenger’s true form, a being of significant power compressed into a lesser vessel to deliver her message.
Su Yao released her bite, looking pleased. “There. That is better. Much less pathetic.”
She then casually shoved the newly revealed divine beast toward Zhang Wei. “Hold this.”
Zhang Wei stared, his tactical mind trying to reconcile the image before him. The woman was radiant, emanating an aura of pure, structured power that felt ancient and formidable. But the cat ears… the tail…
“This is the ‘Kitty’?” he asked, his voice tight with a mixture of disbelief and professional assessment. “She looks like… a ceremonial guard who lost a bet.”
“Appearances can be deceiving, government dog,” Kitty said, her voice now a clear, resonant chime, devoid of the earlier static. She flexed her fingers, and the air crackled with restrained energy.
Su Yao grinned. “Don’t let the ears fool you, tool. This Kitty is stronger than you.”
Zhang Wei’s jaw tightened. “Respectfully, I find that difficult to believe.” He assessed her stance, her energy signature. It was powerful, yes. But it felt orderly and divine. Not the raw, explosive power he associated with a top-tier combatant.
Kitty’s golden eyes narrowed. She remained still, her gaze fixed on Zhang Wei.
A massive, invisible weight slammed down on him, pressing him to his knees. It was the absolute, conceptual weight of a contract being enforced, the pressure of a cosmic rule stating: You will kneel. He strained against it, his muscles trembling, his own spiritual energy flaring in a desperate, futile rebellion.
“Believe it now?” Su Yao asked, her tone light and mocking as she watched him struggle.
The pressure vanished as quickly as it came. Zhang Wei gasped, staggering back to his feet, his face a mask of stunned humiliation and newfound wariness.
Kitty smoothed down her robes, her expression serene. “The message has been delivered. The vessel is stable. Now, shall we go rescue my Lady?” she said, her tone making it clear that the ‘we’ included her in a combat capacity. The harmless postage stamp was gone, replaced by a formidable divine operative.
Shuiyuan Temple, long abandoned, matched Kitty’s descriptions perfectly. Its stone walls were crumbling, and ancient willows trailed their branches in the sluggish river. Footprints darkened the mud along the riverbank, leading straight to the broken doors.
They had barely crossed the threshold when the ambush was triggered.
Figures clad in the familiar black and gold of Yamato operatives melted from the shadows. But these grunts moved with a coordinated, lethal grace. Their spiritual auras burned far brighter than any foot soldier had a right to.
Zhang Wei met the first one, their energy blades clashing with a shriek of forces. He was immediately forced onto the defensive. “Their techniques,” he grunted, parrying a flurry of strikes that felt hauntingly familiar. “This one uses a variation of the Flowing Water Sword Art from the Vanishing Moon Pavilion! And that one’s footwork is from the Whispering Peak Sect!”
Su Yao casually backhanded an operative who lunged at her and send him crashing through a stone pillar. She watched the patterns of their attacks, noting that their movements were rooted in local cultivation styles, but sharpened, hardened, and stripped of all unnecessary flourish.
“Of course,” Su Yao said, her voice cutting through the din of battle. She gestured with her chin toward the fighting Yamato grunts. “Look at them. Not a single original technique among them. Just refined, repurposed theft.”
A slow, understanding smile spread across her face. “Now I see it. This is why the local sects of this era are so pathetically weak.”
She ducked under a whip of spiritual energy that was clearly a corrupted version of a Luo family binding talisman. “Their own established members were recruited. Or seduced. They left their stagnant, tradition-bound sects and joined an organization that actually promised progress, power, and a purpose.”
Her voice carried a note of admiration. “The Yamato ran a better recruitment agency. They offered ambitious cultivators a future their own failing sects couldn’t. No wonder the Vanishing Moon Pavilion and the others are a joke now. All their best and brightest are here, working for the enemy.”
As if to prove her point, a particularly powerful operative, his face hidden but his aura screaming of decades of disciplined cultivation in a righteous sect, unleashed a technique that made the very air freeze. Kitty intercepted it, a shield of golden divine energy flaring around her.
The two forces collided, the corrupted “righteous” technique sizzling against her pure power.
“See?” Su Yao called out to Zhang Wei, who was still struggling against his opponent’s refined, familiar-yet-alien swordsmanship. “Your local cultivation world has been systematically looted for parts. They are your missing generation of geniuses.”
At last, she decided to get serious. Her own aura began to boil around her. “And now,” she declared, “it is time to break their new toys.”