Elio’s Notes: The title plays on 《狼来了》, the Chinese title traditionally used for The Boy Who Cried Wolf. Here, the “wolf is coming” is crossed out in spirit and replaced by the much more immediate crisis: “the fox is leaving.”
Dawn had nearly broken, but not quite. The courtyard was cold and still, and the roof tiles were covered in a layer of white frost left from the night before. Yet the plum blossoms in the courtyard, some deep in color and some pale, were in full bloom. Sparse branches slanted across the mist-wreathed surface of the water, half concealing the hot-spring pool, so that at a glance the scene resembled an immortal terrace of jade.
Rugged stones had been piled along the bank for decoration. From behind them emerged a long, thin branch with a soft feather tied to its tip. Soundlessly, it reached toward the pool and lightly brushed across the straight line of a collarbone floating at the surface, pale white beneath the faintest wash of pink.
“…”
The handsome man leaning against the pool wall with his eyes closed was too lazy even to open them. He raised one arm from the hot spring and casually flicked the irritating feather away.
Amid the sound of flowing water came what seemed to be an extremely faint pfft, suppressed with tremendous difficulty.
Peace lasted only a moment before the little feather returned to its old tricks. Tentatively, it swept over the bridge of his high, straight nose, followed the clean, taut line of his jaw all the way down, then, as though knocking at a door, tapped lightly again and again against the beautifully shaped peak of his lips.
“What are you doing?”
The disturbed man finally opened his eyes lazily, like a jade statue suddenly coming to life. Amid the rising steam, his gaze was colder than frost and snow. “Wei Xiao Guan… Pah—”
The instant he opened his mouth, the mischievous feather nearly poked straight inside. Yugong Zhaoye laughed in exasperation. “If you still don’t get over here, I’ll stick this thing in your hair later and make you go out like that today.”
At those words, the stick abruptly trembled and flew away with a whoosh.
The next moment, Wei Fu burst from behind a clump of shrubs like a startled waterbird—or a fox with every hair standing on end. Before Yugong Zhaoye could say a word, he accused, “You’re not ticklish at all!”
What an excellent example of the guilty party lodging the first complaint. Yugong Zhaoye had no idea when he had stepped on the fox’s tail this time. “…Huh?”
Wei Fu said aggrievedly, “Yesterday, when I kissed you, you kept saying it tickled too much and pushing me away. You even threatened to hang up a mosquito net and lock me outside…”
The truth was, this little bastard knew far too well how to torment him. Yugong Zhaoye was often driven half-mad by the excessively meticulous way Wei Fu “ate” him, leaving him suspended in unbearable anticipation. Yet he did not want to seem incapable of maintaining his composure, so every now and then he deliberately found fault in hopes of speeding things along.
He even holds grudges over something this trivial. I’ve really spoiled him until he’s getting more lawless by the day.
Leaning back against the stone edge, Yugong Zhaoye calmly patched things over. “I’m not made of stone. Of course I’m ticklish. Didn’t I wake up immediately just now?”
Although he was looking up at him, his expression still carried the reserved air of someone accustomed to looking down from above. The mere sight of him made Wei Fu’s heart itch. He circled around and crouched beside the pool, reaching out to pluck away what looked like a plum blossom petal caught in the hollow of Yugong Zhaoye’s collarbone.
“Alright, then next time I’ll… bite a little harder?”
The warm skin shivered lightly beneath his icy fingertip.
Wei Fu sensed that something was wrong. Lowering his head, he realized only then that it was not a flower petal at all, but the mark he had left the previous night.
That fleck of red was like a spark. It burned from the blood beneath his fingertip all the way to his heart, melting through the chain that divided day from night. The restless thoughts he had struggled so hard to herd back into their cage immediately broke loose and began running wild again.
Yugong Zhaoye had long since grown accustomed to being touched all over by him and did not dodge. He merely flicked a droplet of water onto the back of Wei Fu’s wandering hand.
“If you want to strengthen your teeth, go to the kitchen and find a bone to gnaw. Stop using me to sharpen them.”
The words sounded familiar. Over the past few years, he had probably said them countless times, and by now the threat was roughly as effective as saying nothing at all.
When it came to Wei Fu’s unreasonable demands, Yugong Zhaoye always scolded him with his mouth and indulged him with his actions. Once Wei Fu got his arms around him, he never truly ran away. It had been like that when he brought Wei Fu back years ago, and it was still like that now.
Thus, in outsiders’ eyes, Yugong Zhaoye’s journey from an obscure Moon God Temple into the heart of the royal court represented an enormous transformation. Wei Fu, however, did not feel that he had changed much at all. He had always watched this man the way one watched an evergreen tree that never withered through winter, remembering the position of every branch and fork until he himself had become part of its growth rings.
One scolding was enough to make Wei Fu comfortable again. He returned to his obedient, virtuous manner and tucked behind Yugong Zhaoye’s ear a strand of long hair clinging sinuously to his cheek.
“Come out. Don’t soak for too long. When I came over, the cook was making longevity noodles. They should be ready soon.”
“Oh?” Yugong Zhaoye asked. “Did you roll them yourself?”
“It’s hard enough getting one peaceful birthday. Let’s eat something someone else made this time, and please don’t let anything else happen to me.”
Wei Fu reached out a hand.
“Next time, I’ll cook them for you.”
Yugong Zhaoye heard the grievance in his voice and could not help laughing. “You’re right. It really has been hard enough.”
During Wei Fu’s first year in Longsha, he had said that he wanted to celebrate Yugong Zhaoye’s birthday. In the end, Kui Yue sent back word that another Ten Aspects Sect medicine-making stronghold had been discovered in the mountains of Yanyuan. Yugong Zhaoye rushed off to deal with it and regretfully missed the occasion. In the second year, Wei Fu’s birthday happened to coincide with the peace negotiations with Qiyun. Once those ended, the Wuchi Khan fell gravely ill and the situation there became urgent. Second Princess Yugong Yao, who had married far away into Wuchi, wrote asking the King to send someone to protect her and stabilize the situation. Yugong Zhaoye was gone for several months, and by the time he returned, even New Year had passed. Neither of them had managed to celebrate a birthday.
This year was Wei Fu’s last in Longsha. He had already risen to the pinnacle of official rank, accomplished achievements worthy of being recorded in Longsha’s histories, and won the recognition of the entire court, including the King himself.
Yet he still had not successfully celebrated Yugong Zhaoye’s birthday.
Wei Fu absolutely refused to let his tenure as Minister-Regent end with such an earth-shattering regret. Two days earlier, he had slapped the title deed to this hot-spring estate onto Yugong Zhaoye’s desk with the ferocity of a man about to undergo heavenly tribulation, as though whoever dared obstruct him would immediately be struck by the lightning he summoned.
How could Yugong Zhaoye dare stroke the fox spirit’s fur the wrong way?
He promptly pushed aside all his work at the Purple Empyrean Court, packed a bundle, and followed Wei Fu out.
They had fooled around for half the night yesterday. Yugong Zhaoye estimated that Wei Fu’s obsession had been more or less satisfied. Once he ate his longevity noodles and the two of them wasted the entire day together doing nothing, that would probably qualify as the perfect birthday in Wei Fu’s mind.
With a splash, the water surged.
The long hair floating across its surface slid back behind Yugong Zhaoye as he rose, soft and lustrous, like the silver fins of a fish swaying through the water.
Then that jade-white fish turned around.
The plum blossoms scattered across his front were more numerous than the spots on a sika deer.
Wei Fu: “…”
Yugong Zhaoye waded toward him without the slightest self-consciousness and stepped onto the stone stairs to climb ashore.
Wei Fu sucked in a sharp breath as though someone had stepped directly on his tail. With quick eyes and quicker hands, he snatched a large towel from the stone platform and, faster than a tornado, wrapped Yugong Zhaoye tightly from shoulders to feet, leaving not a single gap.
A perfectly good beauty fresh from the bath had been transformed into one long spring roll.
Yugong Zhaoye was bundled so tightly that he could barely move his legs.
“Is it that you’ve never seen me before or what? Why are you suddenly pretending to be modest?”
Wei Fu bent down, picked him up, and carried him around the low-hanging plum branches toward the bedroom.
With lowered eyes and a guilty conscience, he said, “It’s cold. I’m afraid you’ll catch a chill.”
Yugong Zhaoye stared at him for two beats.
Then he suddenly smiled.
It was an exceptionally wicked, mocking sort of smile.
“Saying one thing while meaning another.”
Wei Fu reflected on himself with deep shame. “I’ll never bite again—cough. I mean, next time I’ll bite a little lighter…”
Yugong Zhaoye marveled at him. “Who exactly are you bargaining with? Next time, try being a little harsher on yourself, Young Master.”
The bedroom window had been opened for ventilation, and fresh incense had been added to the incense cage. Every trace left from the night before had already dispersed.
Afraid the cold wind would reach Yugong Zhaoye, Wei Fu simply stuffed him back into bed, lowered the curtains, and then turned around to close the window.
By the time he finished bustling about, Yugong Zhaoye had already changed into his inner robes, his collar fastened tightly. Sitting beside the bed, he held the dripping ends of his hair in one corner of a dry towel and glanced at Wei Fu.
“Am I finally no longer offending Your Excellency’s eyes?”
Wei Fu took over his long hair with the towel, sat behind him, and began drying it while muttering, “You can’t blame me for having weak willpower. It really was beautiful. Think about it—you’re so pale, your hair is such a light color, and there were plum blossoms and mist everywhere. Walking out of the water like that, you looked exactly like some legendary immortal of the water realm…”
Yugong Zhaoye knew enough about the fanciful thoughts scholars like Wei Fu entertained.
He sneered and supplied, “Like a dragon maiden?”
“Like the Dragon King.”
“…”
“Hahahaha…”
Wei Fu collapsed laughing against his shoulder.
Only after a long while did he manage to catch his breath. Turning Yugong Zhaoye around by the shoulders, he began telling him a story.
“When I was little, I read a collection of strange tales. It said that once, an evil flood dragon suddenly arrived in a certain place and occupied the local river, stirring up wind and rain and bringing disaster upon the region. The common people could no longer survive, so they went to the Dragon King Temple and begged the divine official to slay the flood dragon. But the divine official said they first had to offer seven golden swallows to the Dragon King before he would send down divine power.”
“The evil flood dragon took a fancy to a young woman and wanted to carry her away as his bride. Her family was afraid of angering it and all urged her to submit. Remembering what the divine official had said, the young woman gathered many osmanthus blossoms, mixed them into glutinous rice, steamed it, and shaped the rice into swallows. That night, she went to the well and prayed for the Dragon King to reveal his power.”
“The next day, the evil flood dragon transformed into a man and came to take his bride. None of the common people dared stop him. At noon, dark clouds suddenly covered the sky, and beside the well in the young woman’s home appeared a silver-haired youth carrying a great bow. With a single arrow, he struck the flood dragon, then called down thunder and lightning that blasted it back into the form of a water snake. Afterward, the youth transformed into a white dragon and rode the clouds away.”
The more Yugong Zhaoye thought about the story, the more strangely familiar it sounded.
He clearly did not quite believe it.
“Is that really a legend, or did you just make it up?”
Wei Fu finished drying his hair until it no longer dripped, then brought over an outer robe and dressed him.
“It’s real. An anecdote recorded in Liang Mei’s Records of Dongming. Besides, if I were making it up myself, there’s no way I’d end it with the Dragon King flying away.”
Yugong Zhaoye let him fuss over him and nodded in agreement.
“True. I’ve never received any golden swallows either. I do have one silly stork.”
Wei Fu laughed behind him for quite a while longer.
Once Yugong Zhaoye was properly dressed, Wei Fu took from a box beside the bed a clean, lustrous ring of white jade, hollow-carved with dragon patterns, and fastened it neatly at his waist.
In a warm, unhurried voice, he recited:
“Silken strands tied in a thousand knots, linked rings unbroken. So long as this body remains, this love remains; it may be shattered, but never parted. With reverence, I congratulate Your Highness on your birthday. May it forever be well between us.”
Elio’s Notes: Wei Fu’s vow weaves together literary allusions from Li Shangyin, Wei Yingwu, and the Book of Songs. The closing “may it forever be well between us” echoes the famous line 匪报也，永以为好也—roughly, “Not merely as repayment, but that our bond may remain good forever.”
Slightly surprised, Yugong Zhaoye lifted the jade ring into his palm. The white jade was cool to the touch but quickly warmed against his skin. Its weight amounted to almost nothing, yet because of the “vow” attached to it, it suddenly seemed to carry a special gravity.
Yugong Zhaoye had never cared much about his own birthday, much less harbored any attachment to it. He had originally come merely to keep Wei Fu company and let him have his fun.
Yet at this moment, he suddenly experienced something faintly unfamiliar.
He was moved.
“So it’s a token of affection… You really put thought into it.”
As though trying to conceal that subtle stirring of emotion, he deliberately changed the subject.
“I thought your birthday gift was the title deed.”
“That too.”
Wei Fu smiled and kissed him, speaking sweetly against his lips.
“And me. I’m yours too.”
“A’Ying, I’ll spend many, many more birthdays with you.”
Besides symbolizing completeness and infinity—and the moon itself—a jade ring also carried the meaning of “return.”
His story would never become one of those legends of encountering an immortal, where after one brief meeting the two parties went their separate ways to opposite ends of the world, leaving behind nothing but an incomplete rumor, half true and half dream.
Someone who had once received the moon’s favor could never again fill his eyes with ordinary mortals.
His lifelong fate had been decided at the moment of their first meeting.
Every step he had taken since then had been for the sake of returning to the moon’s side.
Not as repayment; may it forever be well between us.
“Alright. I’ll remember.”
Yugong Zhaoye pressed a hand to the back of his head, making Wei Fu lower himself so he could kiss him more easily.
“Keep your word, Xiao Guan.”
The day unfolded exactly as Wei Fu had imagined. The two of them ate longevity noodles, wandered through the nearby market together, bought a pile of utterly useless little trinkets, and brought back osmanthus wine brewed locally in town. Yugong Zhaoye even agreed that Wei Fu could drink a little that night.
Their leisurely, pleasant time lasted until just before dinner.
Yugong Zhaoye was transplanting the flower seedlings they had bought into the courtyard when Wei Fu disappeared for a while. When he drifted back in from the front courtyard, it looked as though a personal raincloud hovered over his head, his invisible ears and tail both soaked through.
Then, with a sudden “Wuao!” he came crashing down like Mount Tai, nearly knocking Yugong Zhaoye directly into the flowerbed.
“What happened?”
Wei Fu hung his head dejectedly.
“We have to go…”
If one listened closely, there was a hint of teeth-grinding fury in those words.
Unfortunately, Wei Fu was normally so unserious that Yugong Zhaoye did not notice anything unusual. He made as though to smear mud on Wei Fu’s face and casually threatened him with practiced ease.
“That’s enough. You’ve been using this as an excuse for a month already. If you keep dragging it out endlessly, I’m going to start suspecting that you’re planning one enormous haul before you run away and never intended to come back.”
Wei Fu: “…”
“I don’t mean back to Xiling.”
He was already furious, yet he also desperately wanted to laugh. Holding it in twisted his face almost ferociously.
“Your Highness, the Egret Guards just sent word. The Dongyu envoy has entered the city requesting an audience.”
He gritted out:
“We have to go back to Bihan City.”
Yugong Zhaoye: “…”
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