Chisheng, Yunqing, and the spirit beasts crouched in the corridors and pavilion of the central courtyard. They watched Emperor Danzhu leave the rear hall and head toward the side rooms, while the little fox’s muffled “Mm-yah, mm-yah” cries continued drifting out of the hall.
Tangdi had already taken human form. Looking utterly distressed, he declared, “His Lordship has gone too far! Just last night he and His Majesty… and today he’s brought home a fox cub and cast His Majesty aside. Our lord may always have been fickle with his affections, but he can’t carry on that way in a matter like this. Mortals say that if you seduce someone and then abandon them, you’ll be struck by lightning. And this is His Majesty we’re talking about…”
Chisheng, Yunqing, and several of the younger spirit beasts listened in total bewilderment. Tangdi sighed and fretted, while Geyue and the other older beasts lay off to one side with their eyes closed, pretending the matter had nothing to do with them.
Yunqing asked, “What rare kind of spirit beast is that fox? His Lordship is barely paying attention even to His Majesty.”
Tangdi replied, “There are too many kinds of fox for even me to tell them all apart. Judging by its coat and the way His Lordship treats it, I’d say it’s a Heaven-Eclipse Fox.”
Yunqing, Chisheng, and the other beasts were all astonished.
They had never seen a Heaven-Eclipse Fox, but they had heard of them. The species was said to be extraordinarily rare and precious. Such foxes were born as immortals and were hardly ever seen even in the immortal realm. Their innate immortal foundation was comparable to that of a free immortal. Tangdi and every other spirit beast in Bihua Lingjun’s residence ranked below one, and even young immortal attendants such as Chisheng and Yunqing were far beneath them in the heavenly hierarchy.
Tangdi murmured, “In terms of status, a Heaven-Eclipse Fox ranks only a little below His Lordship himself. No wonder he treasures it so much. If His Majesty gets jealous, this should be quite a spectacle.”
At bedtime, Emperor Danzhu reclined on the bed and glanced at Bihua Lingjun through half-lowered lashes. The fox cub was stuck to Bihua’s chest like a lump of maltose candy. Bihua held it in one arm while lifting the cloud quilt with the other, apparently intending to take it to bed with them.
When Bihua had first brought Danzhu to this residence, the emperor had still been inside an egg, and Bihua Lingjun had always treated him with the utmost seriousness. At first he had doted on him to an extraordinary degree. After learning who Danzhu really was, that extraordinary devotion had turned into extraordinary caution. Either way, there had always been something extraordinary about Bihua’s attitude.
But all day today Bihua had held the fox cub just as carefully as he had once held Yuan Su, and his consideration for Danzhu had slipped a little.
Emperor Danzhu rarely lost his temper, but there was one thing he could not endure: being ignored. His Majesty was thoroughly accustomed to standing out wherever he went, and Bihua’s neglect left him just a little displeased.
Reclining against the pillows, he narrowed his eyes at the cub, which was still rubbing against Bihua Lingjun and making its little “Mm-yah, mm-yah” noises. “Are you planning to sleep with that thing in your arms tonight?”
Bihua Lingjun gave a smile that amounted to an admission. The fox looked at Danzhu with its round eyes, immediately turned its head away, and pressed its face back against Bihua’s chest. “Mm-yah, mm-yah!”
Danzhu smiled. He was dressed in a plain white sleeping robe. A halo of red immortal light suddenly spread around him as he moved closer to Bihua and asked in a low, leisurely voice, “Bihua, did my comforting you yesterday make you feel better?”
Every hair on the little fox’s body stood on end. It huddled fearfully against Bihua Lingjun. “Mm… mm-yah…”
One of Danzhu’s arms wound around Bihua’s shoulders. “Would you like me to comfort you for another night?”
The red immortal light enveloped Bihua Lingjun as well. Within its glow, Danzhu’s lips brushed gently along the side of Bihua’s neck.
The little fox gave a pitiful wail, shot off the bed, raced toward the door, and stumbled headlong out of the room.
Among birds, rubbing one’s beak against another’s neck was an exceedingly intimate gesture, as well as a declaration of possession. The young fox was far, far beneath Danzhu in rank. With just the slightest release of his authority as a superior being, Danzhu could send the little creature fleeing in terror.
Danzhu lazily watched the fox escape. Resting against Bihua Lingjun’s shoulder, he yawned. “I don’t much care for three of us sleeping in one bed. It gets rather crowded.”
Bihua Lingjun, however, was suddenly full of energy, his face positively radiant. “My sincerest thanks for your help just now, Your Majesty!”
Danzhu frowned in confusion. Bihua Lingjun dropped onto his pillow with a thump. “Finally! It’s gone!”
The next morning, both His Lordship and His Majesty rose a little late. Yunqing waited outside the bedchamber for ages before being summoned inside. The emperor was still asleep, while Bihua stood beside the bed looking thoroughly refreshed. Yunqing grew even more worried.
The little fox Bihua had carried about like a treasure the previous day was now huddled in a corner of the courtyard, its head buried in the grass, curled into a trembling little ball.
The other spirit beasts took turns looking at it sympathetically. At last Tangdi walked over and crouched beside it. “Poor thing. You’re still only a little fox. Even if you’ve gained some cultivation, fighting His Majesty for His Lordship was always going to end badly.”
He laid his tail over the cub and patted it. “There, don’t cry. Maybe you’ll still be allowed to stay here. Emperor Danzhu is actually very generous.”
The little fox stirred, then plunged headfirst against Tangdi’s chest, clinging to his thick fur and sobbing.
After breakfast, Bihua Lingjun strolled out to the corridor, looking refreshed and cheerful.
From the central courtyard came Tangdi’s increasingly frantic shouts. “Get away! Stop sticking to me!”
The blackish-gray fox cub with the white stripe was clinging tightly to Tangdi’s chest fur. Whenever Tangdi shouted, it cried, soaking his fur with tears. As soon as Tangdi gave up in exasperation, the cub rubbed its tears dry on his chest, nuzzled his chin with the top of its head, and let out ingratiating little “Mm-yah, mm-yah” cries…
Smiling broadly, Bihua Lingjun strolled into the courtyard and patted Tangdi on the back. “This little Bailian Fox is one of your own kind, and a very precious creature at that. I’ll entrust it to your care. For the sake of your shared fox ancestry, you must look after it and teach it well.”
Tangdi went rigid. He hadn’t even frozen like that when five mighty bolts of heavenly lightning had struck him on the head all those years ago.
Bai… Bailian…
It was a little Bailian… a Bailian Fox…
Tangdi said weakly, “My lord, why have you brought home a Plaster Fox…?”
Bihua Lingjun clasped his hands behind his back and looked up at the sky. “Alas, they’re so alike, you see. Even I make mistakes sometimes.”
The Bailian Fox was also called the Plaster Fox. It looked exactly like the Heaven-Eclipse Fox, but was in fact a spirit fox with very little spiritual power. By imitating the more illustrious creature’s appearance, it frightened away demons that preyed on spirit foxes and managed to stay alive.
Bailian Foxes were exceptionally gentle and loved being close to others. But while still cubs, they had a serious peculiarity: once they chose someone to attach themselves to, they clung to that person while walking, sitting, lying down, or doing absolutely anything else. They would not let go. They could not be shaken off or pried away. They stuck on as tenaciously as a medicinal plaster. Hence their other name, the Plaster Fox.
Bihua Lingjun explained, “The Jade Emperor sent me on an errand, and I happened to see this innocent little creature foraging along the way. My eyes deceived me for a moment, and I mistook it for a Heaven-Eclipse Fox. By the time I’d picked it up, I realized my mistake…”
The little Plaster Fox lay against Tangdi’s chest and obligingly tried to lick dry the fur it had just soaked with its tears. Naturally, all the licking only made it wetter, so it kept right on licking.
Bihua Lingjun patted Tangdi on the back again. “A Bailian Fox takes only one year to grow from a cub into an adult. I’ll have to trouble you to care for it for that year…”
Tangdi stared straight ahead. The little Plaster Fox went on crying “Mm-yah, mm-yah,” and white willow catkins drifted gently onto the tips of Tangdi’s ears.
Emperor Danzhu lounged on a cushioned couch in the pavilion, in the soft breeze beneath the drifting willow catkins. He looked toward the courtyard through half-lowered eyes and yawned.