I
Tangdi’s name meant a dashing, carefree reed. It was a name he had chosen for himself.
He had gone to considerable trouble just to learn the proper name of the wild grass that grew in great swaths along the ditches and riverbanks. Then he had crept beneath the window of the village schoolhouse, pressed himself against the wall, and learned how to write the character.
With a reed stalk in hand, he practiced writing it again and again along the riverbank, thinking all the while, What remarkable talent I have! To come up with such a wonderful name!
Even after becoming an immortal, Tangdi often thought back to those days of his childhood. He had been a frail little fox cub, with no idea when he was born or who his parents were. Raised by heaven and earth alone, he had struggled to survive in the bustling, boundless world, scavenging leftovers and hiding from tigers, leopards, jackals, and wolves. Yet he had always thought the sky so blue and vast, the earth so broad and endless, that it was a tremendous stroke of luck just to live in such a world. Surely a wonderful life awaited him.
Most of all, he loved lying in the reeds beside the river. Hidden in the long grass, he would change his fur to match their color, stretch out all four limbs, press his belly against the earth, and lift his tail so its fluffy fur swayed with the reed plumes in the wind. Breathing in the scent of sunshine and listening to the river flow, he felt himself become one with heaven and earth.
Tangdi was a confident fox. By nature, he was just that dashing: as free as the wind that set the reeds swaying, unrestrained, easygoing, and beholden to no one.
Unfortunately, Heaven liked to set its dashing little foxes the occasional test. With a particularly devious sense of humor, it presented Tangdi with a tagalong.
II
Early summer, before the City God Temple.
The sky had only just begun to brighten. Lai Yitie had barely set out his medicinal-plaster stall and was straightening the hanging sign when a strange figure appeared beside it without a sound. The stranger was wrapped from head to toe in white cloth, like one of those camel-riding travelers from the Western Regions, and stared straight at Lai Yitie. For a moment, Lai Yitie could not tell whether the customer was a man or a woman.
A woman? Could a woman really be that tall? A man? He glanced beneath the white cloth. That enormous, protruding… belly… It had to be at least eight months along.
After a moment’s hesitation, Lai Yitie spoke. “Madam, I’m only running a small business. My plasters treat headaches, fevers, bruises, and sprains. As for preventing a miscarriage or ending a pregnancy… Madam would do better to visit a medical clinic.”
The stranger chuckled. “Rest assured, I’m not here to ask for anything of the sort.”
Lai Yitie flushed with embarrassment. The voice was clear and bright, unmistakably that of a young man.
“Are you Lai Yitie?” the man asked.
Lai Yitie nodded. “I’m Little Lai. My father’s health has been poor, so I’ve been running the stall for over a year.”
Lai Yitie’s surname was Lai, and his real name was Lai An. His father, Lai Qian, had encountered a wandering Daoist priest in his youth and obtained a medicinal-plaster formula. He began selling plasters and traveling from place to place, until his miraculous remedies earned him a reputation and he styled himself Lai Yitie, or “Lai One-Plaster.” Later, he married and settled in the capital, keeping a stall outside the City God Temple in Wanfu Ward, on the eastern side of the city.
Lai An had helped at the stall since childhood. People called his father Old Lai and him Little Lai. By his twenties, Lai An had learned every bit of his father’s trade and improved two formulas besides, adjusting the thickness and materials of the plaster backing for summer, winter, and the needs of different customers. Seeing that his son had surpassed him, and being over sixty himself, Lai Qian handed over the business and enjoyed a comfortable retirement.
The young man smiled. “No matter, no matter. Whether you’re Old Lai or Little Lai, all I care about is buying something useful.”
As he spoke, the bulge at his abdomen suddenly wriggled several times.
Startled, Lai Yitie took a step back. The customer’s robe fell open, revealing a mass of black fur.
It wriggled twice more. A pale stripe could just be made out down the middle, and two pointed ears sprang upright.
“Nn-yah!”
Lai Yitie staggered farther back and almost knocked over his stall. “C-customer… my… my plasters can’t subdue a thing like that! Y-you’d better find an exorcist!”
The white cloth fell from the young man’s head, revealing a handsome youth with charming eyes and fine features. He gathered his robe, looking rather helpless. “I’m not here to buy your plasters. Tell me, do you have anything that can peel a plaster off?”
Lai Yitie scurried behind the stall, his teeth chattering. He rummaged through a basket of goods he had not yet set out and shakily produced a porcelain bottle. “W-warm the plaster, and then apply this oil…”
The young man’s eyes lit up. “Give me several bottles!” he declared without hesitation.
III
In a patch of wilderness, Tangdi found the shadiest place beneath the trees, stripped off his cumbersome disguise, opened his robe, and lined up the porcelain bottles he had bought from Lai Yitie.
The little plaster clinging to his chest raised its head sleepily and opened a pair of large, innocent eyes.
One look at that face filled Tangdi with sorrow. Three years! This clingy plaster fox had been stuck to him for three entire years! The Spirit Lord had distinctly said it would drop off on its own after one. Yet the creature had remained attached for three, growing fatter but never bigger. Tangdi had tried threats, trickery, even pulling out its fur, but it clung to him with indomitable resolve. He was on the verge of losing his mind.
Bihua Lingjun had named the little plaster Youping, or “Oil Bottle.” Tangdi had dragged his oil bottle from one immortal to another, pleading for help, while they all cheerfully enjoyed the spectacle. Fortunately, Heyun had taken pity on him. He explained that an immortal under Lingbao Daojun might possess a miraculous formula capable of removing the plaster fox. Unfortunately, that immortal was cultivating in seclusion and would likely not emerge for another eight or ten years. Someone in the mortal realm, however, had once obtained one of his formulas by chance. Tangdi had rushed straight down to find Lai Yitie.
The moment he took the medicine bottles in hand, Tangdi knew they would work. The oil gave off a medicinal smell that made him sick each time he sniffed it. No fox could stand a stench like that.
He lifted a porcelain bottle. Even now he could hardly bear the thought of rubbing the stuff onto himself, so he decided to make one last attempt.
Stroking the little plaster fox on the head, he said, “Youping, you’re three years old now. It’s time you learned to be an independent fox! Just look at how vast this world is!”
The plaster fox turned its head to look, folds piling up along its thick little neck. Towering trees reached into the sky; dense foliage blocked the sunlight; grass stretched on and on, and fragrant vines climbed through the forest. Birds sang beside the streams, and butterflies’ wings trembled in the breeze.
An ancient forest held the scent of the wild in its purest form.
Tangdi lowered his voice, tempting it gently. “You haven’t set a paw on the ground for three years. Do you even remember how to run? Try it. Feel what it’s like to race through the grass…”
Youping’s ears twitched. A dragonfly skimmed the tips of the grass and landed on the bell-shaped head of a cluster of wildflowers. Early berries, red as coral beads, swayed in the wind.
“Go on,” Tangdi coaxed in a low voice. “Spring after it… catch it in your mouth!”
Youping arched its back. Its pupils narrowed into vertical slits. The wind stilled. The dragonfly quivered its wings and slowly rose into the air once more. Youping turned its head to follow it, and turned, and turned…
Then its ears gave another twitch. It yawned, nestled its head against Tangdi’s chest again, and gave a thoroughly contented little “nn-yah.”
Failure.
Tangdi steeled himself and tipped the bottle. Oil with a faint medicinal fragrance flowed over his chest.
Youping jerked its head upright, bewildered, and sneezed. The slick oil made it terribly uncomfortable, and it disliked the smell. It shook its fur frantically, wriggling in agitation.
A triumphant smile touched Tangdi’s lips. He lay flat beneath the tree and poured out one bottle after another. Pour, pour, pour…
Before long his entire belly was practically soaked through. He even deliberately poured some on the little plaster fox. The white stripe running from its head to the tip of its tail turned the color of medicinal oil. Youping shook and shook, tossed its head and tossed it again.
Tangdi suddenly rolled over, changed into his true fox form in the blink of an eye, and sprang forward.
Youping’s little paws came unstuck, and it tumbled from his belly.
Tangdi was beside himself with joy. But one claw on Youping’s left hind paw was still hooked into a tuft of fur on his chest. The instant all four of Tangdi’s paws touched the ground, Tangdi gave an “aow!” and jerked upward, trying to shake Youping loose.
Tangdi leaped again, caught a branch with his front paws, swung his body, and flipped over in the air.
Youping missed its hold. Still hooked to a tuft of Tangdi’s chest fur by its left hind claw, its little body shot through the air like a missile and landed heavily in the grass.
Tangdi bounded to the ground. He had never felt so light. Wild with delight, he tore through the grass as fast as he could.
Ahhh! Freedom! From this day on, he was an unrestrained fox once more!
Youping struggled upright and raced with all its might after Tangdi’s fleeing figure. Unfortunately, its legs were too short and its body too fat. In a few bounds Tangdi was out of sight. Youping stumbled around in circles among the tall grass, wailing pitifully.
Tangdi sprinted out of the forest and jumped into the river with a splash, washing his fur to his heart’s content.
Then he stretched out on the riverbank to dry, belly pointed toward the sky. The fur on his stomach spread freely in the cool, refreshing breeze. What a wonderful feeling!