Chapter Six: The Stolen Wine

Five days later, by the Heavenly Pool Waterfall.

“Little Fox, have you found the family that sells wine yet?” The old fox opened his eyes slightly, looking at Zhou Hongxian as he spoke.

“I’ve searched the whole area at the foot of the eastern mountain for over ten miles around. I didn’t see a single soul, let alone anyone selling wine.”

“Then let it be.”

“No, Elder Fox. If ten miles isn’t enough, I’ll search even farther. I’ll find them eventually!”

Ten days later.

“Little Fox, I can go without the Daughter’s Red. There’s no need for you to be so persistent.”

“No, Elder Fox. I can find it—I must!”

A month passed, and the snow on Mount Taibai lay even deeper.

At last, the old fox sighed. “You’ve searched so long and still found nothing. Perhaps this is fate. Little Fox, perhaps the Way is not meant for you in this life. Let it go.”

“Elder Fox, even if I must be as stubborn as the Foolish Old Man who moved mountains, I’ll find it in the end!”

The old fox smiled. “The Foolish Old Man moving mountains? That’s a tale the wise tell to amuse the simple. In the end, didn’t the Celestial Emperor himself intervene to settle the matter? Stubbornness leads nowhere, and I can’t keep sparring with you forever.”

But Zhou Hongxian would not give up. He bowed deeply to the old fox, imitating the humans. “Elder Fox, please, grant me just one more month. If I still can’t find it, I’ll never trouble you again.”

The old fox hesitated, silent for a long time before replying, “Your request is too much. Ten more days at most, no more. If you fail, don’t blame me.”

Zhou Hongxian nodded gratefully.

And so, the tenth day of their new agreement arrived. Zhou Hongxian stood alone in a vast, snow-blanketed wilderness.

Zhou Hongxian’s heart was as cold as the snow around him. He had spent forty days scouring forty miles around the eastern face of Mount Taibai, but had not seen even a single footprint, let alone a house or a village. The foot of Mount Taibai was truly desolate.

Was this fate? Perhaps he should give up. There was little point in returning—he was exhausted in body and spirit. He decided to lie down in the snow for a while.

As he settled down, thick flakes began to cover his fiery red fur like a heavy quilt. His head grew heavy, his eyelids drooping with fatigue.

“Big Brother, I’m so tired and cold—I can’t go on!”

“Er Lang, I know you’re suffering, but don’t close your eyes. Grit your teeth and walk ten more miles. There’s a village there, and an old man who sells wine. Drink a bowl, and you’ll be warm again!”

“Really, Big Brother?”

“Would I lie to my own brother?”

“All right, I’ll listen to you!”

Hearing this abrupt conversation, Zhou Hongxian was jolted awake. He forced himself to his feet, shaking the snow from his body and looking south. There, he saw two figures walking away, leaving a trail of deep footprints in the snow.

For reasons he could not explain, Zhou Hongxian felt tears prick his eyes. But he held them back, fearing they would freeze and blur his vision. Without hesitation, he began to follow the trail of footprints in the distance.

The next day, Zhou Hongxian returned to the Heavenly Pool Waterfall, calling out excitedly from afar, “Elder Fox, I found it! I found it! Fifty miles southeast of the mountain’s foot, there’s a village, and an old man who sells Daughter’s Red!”

The old fox didn’t even bother to open his eyes. His tone was flat: “This is the eleventh day. Our agreed time has passed.”

Zhou Hongxian’s joy froze on his face. After a long, long silence, he lowered his head and turned to leave.

“Where are you going, Little Fox?” the old fox called after Zhou Hongxian’s limping figure.

“I don’t know.”

“Hey, come back! You may be stubborn, but I am not. What’s a day or two?”

Zhou Hongxian turned sharply to look at the old fox. He made no sound, but long icicles hung from beneath his eyes and nose.

Fifty miles southeast of Mount Taibai’s foot, there was a village called Baishan.

Once, Baishan Village was much closer to Mount Taibai—less than twenty miles—but in recent decades, tigers had repeatedly descended the mountain to prey on the villagers. Fear spread, and the people gradually moved farther and farther away, only settling in their current location when peace finally returned.

Now, only the bravest hunters dared venture up the mountain to make a living, and many of them never came back.

Old Li, who lived at the edge of the village, had lost his only son to the mountain years ago. Whenever he thought of it, his eyes would fill with tears. If only his eldest had stayed home and learned the art of brewing, he thought, perhaps he would not have been left childless in his old age.

Though life was hard, Old Li managed to scrape by, relying on his skills as a winemaker. But over the past two weeks, strange things had begun to happen—every few days, a jar of wine would mysteriously vanish from his cellar. The loss pained him, and he was utterly baffled.

That evening, as the sun set, Old Li went down to the cellar by lamplight. After counting the wine jars, he sighed, “Another one gone. If this goes on, how am I to survive?”

He had tried everything to find the cause, searching every inch around the cellar without finding the slightest clue. That day, he had even waited for night to fall before checking again, only to discover another jar was missing—even though no one had been near the cellar all day. Who would believe it was a human thief?

If not human, what else could it be? A demon, perhaps. But if it were a demon, what could an old man like him do?

Old Li stood in the cellar for a long while, then sighed and left, his muffled cries drifting back: “Heaven, what have I done to deserve this? Why must you treat me so harshly?”

As soon as Old Li closed the cellar door, a rustling sounded within. Someone let out a low sigh: “That was close—I nearly got caught!”

In a blink, a red fox appeared outside in the snow, facing away from the house. It glanced back with a strange, sorrowful look on its face. “I’ve sunk so low as to steal from a lonely old man. I’m a real bastard.”

Without another glance, the red fox bounded out of the village, the small cloth pouch hanging from its neck swaying in the snowy light.