Chapter Three: Valley of the Gathering Foxes

Zhou Hongxian dashed in the direction of the fox's cry, racing through towering ancient trees, until he finally reached a narrow, winding valley. The stream within murmured gently, the trees were lush, and flowers and grasses flourished, filling the air with a heady fragrance—a living landscape painting revealed itself before his eyes.

Entranced, Zhou Hongxian paused to admire this breathtaking scene, but the fox's cry ahead suddenly grew more urgent. With no choice, he pressed forward into the valley.

Upon entering, he was startled to find himself surrounded by a multitude of foxes—so many that he couldn't count them at a glance, though he estimated there were no fewer than a thousand. And it wasn't just their numbers: their pelts came in a variety of colors, mostly red, white, black, or gray. Reds were the most common, but the fiery scarlet like his own was rare; most were tinged with a reddish-brown.

All these foxes were gathered, gazing and bowing toward a cave at the center of the valley—a scene so strange it sent a chill down his spine. Still, being one of them now, Zhou Hongxian didn't feel quite so afraid. With little time to ponder, he spotted a flat stone in the valley, perfect for resting, and made his way over. But just as he settled down, a silver-black fox sidled up behind him, scrambled onto the stone, and pushed him off.

Stunned, Zhou Hongxian wondered what on earth was happening—was there even competition for places here? This wasn't some ticket queue during the Spring Festival; why were foxes like this too?

After seizing his spot, the silver-black fox even turned to give him a mocking glance, a sly sneer curling its sharp muzzle. Zhou Hongxian realized at once that this was a clever fox like himself, so he spoke up: "I got here first. Don't you have any manners?"

"Manners?" The silver-black fox's eyes narrowed, a domineering glint in them. "You're just a young fox, newly awakened, no wonder you don't understand the rules. A prime spot like this isn't for the likes of you. Now get lost!"

This infuriated Zhou Hongxian. In his former life, he might not have been a paragon of achievement, but he was at least a hot-blooded youth—and never before had anyone so openly slighted him. Now, to be looked down upon by a fox! He snapped, "Not only are you ill-mannered, but you're also unreasonable—don't go too far!"

The silver-black fox squinted, grinning: "Oh, so you know how to be eloquent. I see you've spent time among humans! Hmph, your pelt is indeed fine—perhaps you'll become a charming beauty someday. But you haven't cultivated a human form yet; are you hoping to play pet for humans like a cat or dog?"

Zhou Hongxian couldn't fathom why the fox said he'd become a beauty, but he understood the insult about being a human's pet—all too clearly. This had escalated into a direct attack on his foxhood; how could he endure it? Without thinking, he moved to confront the silver-black fox.

But to his surprise, the silver-black fox struck first! With a leap, it pinned Zhou Hongxian to the ground, claws raking deep furrows into his back, then bit fiercely into his foreleg. Blood splattered the ground, and in pain, Zhou Hongxian couldn't help but let out several yelps of foxish agony.

The silver-black fox bared its blood-stained fangs in a cold laugh. "How pitiful you are. As a fox, you don't even grasp the most basic cunning. You let your intentions show on your face—how could I not act first? But enough—today, I, Lord Fox Hachirō, will let it slide. Now get out of here!"

Shame and anger warred within Zhou Hongxian. He noticed many foxes watching him; most appeared as ignorant as ordinary beasts, but a few had eyes gleaming with intelligence, some even covering their mouths with their forepaws and chuckling like humans.

"This little fox is killing me—picking a fight with Fox Hachirō, the most ruthless fox in the valley!"

"Indeed, can't even grasp basic self-preservation. A disgrace to foxkind!"

"Look at those wounds—he won't heal for a while. Winter's almost here; how will he hunt like that? Seems he won't survive the season. He brought this on himself!"

Hearing the jeers and chatter, Zhou Hongxian felt a deep sadness. He thought, Aren't I your kin now? Why is there no sympathy among foxes? In the tales he had read, foxes were often gentle and affectionate, stirring the imagination—was it all just a lie?

But the foxes continued their laughter and mockery, while Fox Hachirō, having made his point, didn't spare him another glance, simply lounging lazily atop the stone and dozing off.

Zhou Hongxian could only lick his wounds in silence. Before leaving, he cast a venomous glance at Fox Hachirō, vowing to pay him back someday. He also resolved to regain his human form as soon as possible; he couldn't wait forty years. He wanted to escape this cold-blooded tribe and return to the human world, where at least there was warmth.

But Zhou Hongxian had no idea where his path lay, nor how to cultivate himself. His intelligence came from his former human life, not this fox body. He needed a guide in the ways of cultivation, but after much thought, the only possibility he could think of was the old white fox by the Celestial Pond waterfall who called himself Old Fox.

Lost in thought, Zhou Hongxian was startled when the valley fell silent; all the foxes ceased their odd cries, and an unnatural hush settled over the scene. Suddenly, thick white smoke billowed from the wide, deep cave at the valley's center. When it cleared, out strode a throng of men and women, all dressed in splendid robes—each one strikingly handsome or beautiful.

As Zhou Hongxian licked his wounds, he found himself staring in a daze. For a man who had never known romance in his past life, the women's beauty was almost overwhelming; his heart pounded uncontrollably.

He couldn't help but wonder why there were humans in this fox valley—and not an unattractive one among them! But soon he realized they were all foxes too, like Old Fox, who had attained the Dao and could assume human form. The Fox King must be among them.

Indeed, from the group stepped a man in his thirties, wearing a golden crown and a purple fur robe. His face was flawless as white jade, his build tall and upright as a pine; though a man, there was a hint of allure at the corners of his eyes. His looks were enough to drive Zhou Hongxian mad with envy. In fact, none of the men present failed to evoke his jealousy.

The man in the golden crown was the Fox King. Smiling, he extended his arms toward the masses of foxes below, just as a human emperor might greet his subjects. Instantly, the thousand foxes raised their heads and howled as one, much like people acclaiming their monarch.

At first, Zhou Hongxian was slow to react, but when he noticed other foxes eyeing him suspiciously, cold sweat broke out on his brow. Hastily, he mimicked their skyward howls. He knew nothing of the valley's customs, but guessed that any disrespect to the Fox King might be considered treason—and he had no wish to lose his head over ignorance.

Of course, Zhou Hongxian only made the gesture of howling, without actually making a sound. When the Fox King's arms fell, the foxes all ceased their cries, and Zhou Hongxian quickly returned to normal as well.

At last, the Fox King spoke: "My fox children and grandchildren, in a month winter will arrive, and Taibai Mountain will be sealed beneath heavy snow. Have you prepared enough food for the cold season?"

Only now did Zhou Hongxian understand: this was a rally for the winter stores! But soon he would realize that his tribulations were only just beginning.