The Little Fox Spirit Doesn't Want to Carry a Cub - Chapter 11

The night was deep, and a light snow began to fall intermittently.

Amidst the white expanse of the mountains, there was only one place where no snow settled: the hot spring deep in the forest.

The temperature here was higher; the drifting snowflakes melted into rising steam before they could even touch the ground. Jiang Shen was submerged mostly in the water, with frost forming tiny ice crystals in his hair.

He wiped his face and let out a heavy sigh.

Li Ruan lay in his usual spot on the bank, dejected and listless. “Stingy Jiang Shen.”

Jiang Shen gave a cold snort. “How am I stingy?”

“You actually hid in the water just to keep me from eating,” Li Ruan accused with tearful eyes. “How could you be like this?”

Jiang Shen: “…”

He wasn’t hiding; he just wanted to take a bath to calm down.

Jiang Shen opened his mouth to explain, but considering the little demon’s peculiar understanding—and his inexplicably high learning curve for “inappropriate” things (likely due to his fox nature)—he decided it was best for him to know as little as possible.

Jiang Shen knew his own body well.

He utterly detested the extravagant and debauched lifestyle common among some imperial scions; he usually practiced strict self-discipline and led a life that could be described as ascetic.

More than once, people had called him cold and distant, like an outlier.

Whether he was an outlier or not, Jiang Shen knew for a fact that it was impossible for him to become… like that just from being stepped on a couple of times by this little fellow.

The problem had to be the medicine.

Upon asking, it turned out the little fox didn’t even know what medicine A-Xue had given; he only said it was a common mortal tonic used to restore Yang energy.

Such pretty words for something that was clearly…

An aphrodisiac.

Jiang Shen pressed his brow, his head aching.

That great demon named A-Xue didn’t seem like a “proper” demon either.

The little fox continued his pitiful accusation: “You were sick all day, and I looked after you for the whole time. I haven’t eaten a single drop of essence today. You’d rather hide in the water and waste it than give me even a single bite.”

“How can there be someone as stingy as you…”

His voice carried a sob, yet his eyes couldn’t squeeze out a single tear.

It proved that even a demon who had cultivated for hundreds of years could be spoiled if coddled.

Jiang Shen usually had no principles when it came to the little fox. In the past, as long as the fox wailed piteously for a few sentences, Jiang Shen would have long since coaxed him, giving him whatever he wanted.

He had Jiang Shen wrapped around his little paw.

But tonight, Jiang Shen truly had no energy to coax him.

He didn’t know where that medicine had come from, but its efficacy was incredibly potent. Even after soaking in the water for so long, it hadn’t receded at all.

On the contrary, it seemed to be growing.

Could it be… that I can only resolve this through ‘manual’ relief?

Jiang Shen pursed his lips and stole a quiet glance at the little fox.

The little fox had likely finished his performance; he was lying listlessly by the spring, rubbing his eyes with a small paw. Jiang Shen estimated the time; usually, by this hour, they would have already been asleep.

“Little fox.” Jiang Shen put on a calm facade. “Go back to the cave first.”

“Ah?” Li Ruan asked, “Why?”

Jiang Shen: “Aren’t you tired?”

Li Ruan: “Hmm…”

He was a bit tired.

Briefly transforming into human form this morning had been a massive drain on his body, which had yet to recover its spiritual power. And since Jiang Shen was sick today, he hadn’t dared to absorb essence from him.

His behavior just now was mostly just playful antics; Jiang Shen had just recovered from a major illness, so even if the man truly offered him essence, he wouldn’t have taken it.

Li Ruan: “But…”

“It’s fine.” Jiang Shen’s voice carried a hint of hoarseness. This state had lasted too long, and he was nearing his limit. “I… I will return to the cave on my own after I finish my bath. You go ahead.”

Li Ruan didn’t know Jiang Shen’s true intention. He had no devious thoughts and never doubted Jiang Shen’s words.

He was just a bit worried.

But he was also truly sleepy. It was so warm by the spring; if he didn’t head back soon, he might actually fall asleep right here.

The little fox hesitated repeatedly, looking back with every three steps. “Then I’m going? I’m really going? You won’t faint and drown in the water, will you?”

“…I won’t.”

Jiang Shen used almost every ounce of willpower he possessed to suppress a certain instinct.

Once that streak of bright red vanished from his sight, his hand entered the water with a touch of urgency.

Before long, the sound of splashing water echoed in the forest.

The steam completely obscured his figure.

The next day, Li Ruan called the little titmouse over and informed it of Jiang Shen’s intent.

The titmouse was initially unwilling to help. After much negotiation—and with Li Ruan as a witness—Jiang Shen added an extra sentence to the letter.

He instructed the people at the pawnshop to prepare the finest and most delicious food to treat the titmouse to a feast.

Only then was a consensus reached.

The pawnshop where Jiang Shen wanted the bird to deliver the letter was named “Guanghong”; it was the largest pawnshop in the eastern part of the capital. Before the bird left, Jiang Shen specifically wrote these characters out and made it recognize them several times.

But in truth, it wasn’t necessary.

Although the bird couldn’t speak or read many words, it frequently visited the capital. That pawnshop in the East City was located at a very bustling intersection; it had some memory of it.

By the time the bird reached the capital, it was still early.

There weren’t many people on the streets on a winter morning, but the roadside breakfast stalls were already being set up one after another.

The aroma of food drifted through the streets and alleys. Faint white steam rose from the stalls—the mundane atmosphere of the human world that Mount Changming lacked.

The titmouse soon arrived at the Guanghong Pawnshop. It landed on the threshold and began pecking at the door: thump, thump, thump.

A worker’s voice came from inside: “Who is it? We’re not open yet. Come back in an hour!”

The titmouse continued: thump-thump-thump, thump-thump-thump.

“Can’t you understand human speech? You—” The worker grumbled as he opened the door a crack. The titmouse flapped its wings and flew inside, landing steadily on a table in the main hall.

With a kick of its small claws, it tossed the letter tied with the white jade clasp onto the table.

The worker was a youth with a clean, boyish face. He was stunned by the sight and quickly closed the shop door.

“What’s all the noise so early in the morning?” Someone lifted the curtain from the inner room.

“M-manager!” The worker pointed at the bird and then at the jade clasp. “This bird… this bird brought this thing over.”

The manager’s expression changed. He walked over quickly, picked up the jade clasp, examined it for a while, and then unfolded the letter.

The worker leaned over the table and poked the titmouse. “This bird is interesting. It can even be used as a messenger pigeon?”

The titmouse hopped away from the poke, displeasedly swatting him with the tip of its wing.

The manager ignored them. He read the letter twice quickly and tucked it away carefully. “The Master has sent word. We won’t open for business today. You’re coming with me outside the city.”

The worker gave an “oh.” Just as they were about to leave, the titmouse chirped at them.

The manager realized and instructed, “Go to the kitchen and get some grain to feed this bird first.”

That’s more like it.

The titmouse wasn’t shy; it flew directly onto the young worker’s shoulder and sat down comfortably.

Time to eat!

Likely because Jiang Shen’s plan was effective, from that day on, no more strangers sneaked into Mount Changming. At least, A-Xue hadn’t come to the door again, so there likely weren’t any.

Tranquility returned to their days.

About a month passed. Late one day, the titmouse came to deliver letters again.

After the success of the first delivery, Jiang Shen realized how useful the bird was and negotiated a long-term arrangement.

The condition was to have the pawnshop build a nest for the bird and provide fresh water and food daily so it could have a full meal whenever it visited.

The titmouse hadn’t migrated with its flock this year, and food was hard to find in the mountains. When it couldn’t find food, it would have gone to the nearby villages and cities to forage anyway.

Carrying a small piece of paper occasionally in exchange for a feast was not a losing bargain.

—Or so the bird originally thought.

Who could have known that while Jiang Shen’s letters were few, the replies from the pawnshop were growing more and more numerous.

Carrying a small cloth bundle in its beak, the bird flew into the cave and let go. As the letters scattered with a rustle, it landed on the ground, exhausted.

It lay on its back by the fire, its two small claws trembling. “If there are this many next time… I’m not going…”

The titmouse couldn’t speak human tongue, so Jiang Shen couldn’t understand its chirping, but he could guess the general meaning. He shared half a roasted sweet potato with the bird and lowered his voice: “Shh, the little fox is sleeping. Don’t wake him.”

As he spoke, he glanced behind him.

The little fox was curled into a fluffy ball, sleeping soundly on Jiang Shen’s small bed.

As the weather grew colder day by day, the little fox spent more and more time sleeping. If he didn’t get enough sleep, he would be drowsy all day and didn’t like to go out much.

Fortunately, they had stockpiled plenty of food beforehand, so they wouldn’t face a shortage for now.

But Jiang Shen was still a bit worried.

He had never heard of foxes hibernating before.

However, although the little fox slept a lot, he was in good spirits once awake and showed no signs of illness, so Jiang Shen let him be.

The bird finished the sweet potato and flapped its wings, flying away.

Jiang Shen began to organize the letters it had brought.

It wasn’t that the people at the pawnshop were trying to make things difficult for the bird; it was just that Jiang Shen had been gone too long, and too much work had accumulated. These were turbulent times—the instability of the court, the disputes among the princes in the capital, and the movements of the regional lords—Jiang Shen couldn’t let go of any of it.

He could see that the people at the pawnshop had already done their best to compress and simplify the information.

If he were still in the capital, these secret messages would be at least three times as numerous.

“Has the bird been here?” The little fox’s voice sounded from behind him.

A warm, fluffy little thing pressed against him. Jiang Shen set down the letters and rubbed him once. “Awake?”

“Still so sleepy…” The little fox was so tired he couldn’t even walk straight. If Jiang Shen hadn’t caught him, he would have walked right into the fire.

Jiang Shen pulled him into his arms and kneaded the back of his neck. “Hungry?”

“Tired.” The little fox buried his head in Jiang Shen’s embrace. “I want to eat some essence.”

Jiang Shen: “En, eat then.”

The little fox rubbed against Jiang Shen’s chest twice; he had likely started absorbing essence. Jiang Shen kneaded the back of his neck and stroked his back, asking softly, “Is your state like this because your spiritual power hasn’t recovered?”

“Maybe,” Li Ruan said. “It was never like this before.”

“…It’s all because you won’t dual cultivate with me.”

The little fox’s voice was also weary, as if he were half-asleep, his words soft and muddled.

“I…”

Jiang Shen naturally didn’t want to see the little fox like this.

The little fox he knew should be lively and adorable, always full of energy.

But now…

Is simply giving him essence to absorb every day truly insufficient to restore his power?

Jiang Shen sighed silently.

His mind hadn’t changed; sympathy was one thing, dual cultivation was another. No matter how much he cared, he could not agree to dual cultivate with the little fox.

A human and a fox—it was too absurd.

Setting aside the fact that he was a fox, even if the little fox could become a human…

Thinking of this, Jiang Shen’s movements suddenly stopped.

If he could become a human…

The little fox’s voice was very clear; if he could transform into a human, he should be a youth of seventeen or eighteen. He would have a very cute smile and bright eyes—perhaps even a beautiful deep red, just like his original form.

The little fox had stopped moving; it was unclear if he had fallen back asleep. Jiang Shen looked down at the little fellow in his arms and found himself uncontrollably slipping into a fantasy.

How tall would he be? Certainly shorter than Jiang Shen—perhaps only reaching his shoulder. But those short, small limbs, once transformed, should be very slender. His wrists would be thin and white, such that a single hand could encircle them; they would look as though they might break with the slightest force.

But his little fox could never be that fragile.

Jiang Shen had seen the little fox fight; the power contained in that small body was not weak at all, and he was incredibly agile. When running, his clothes would flutter in the wind, outlining a waist that one could wrap their arms around.

Jiang Shen was suddenly jolted awake.

What was I just thinking?

Jiang Shen’s heart was racing. It was clearly a mid-winter night, yet a layer of hot sweat had broken out on his back.

He raised a hand to his chest, feeling the heart beneath his skin thrumming with restless agitation.

This was likely the first time in his twenty-three years of life that he had felt such a violent stirring.

And all of it came from his own far-fetched fantasies.

Jiang Shen took a deep breath, letting his heartbeat slowly return to normal.

The little fox was still sleeping soundly in his arms. Once Jiang Shen had calmed down, he gave the fox’s ear a pinch as punishment.

“It’s all your fault,” Jiang Shen said softly. “Shouting about dual cultivation every day—you’ve made me abnormal. You disturber of hearts, you bad fox.”

The little fox flicked an ear unconsciously, sleeping peacefully without a care.

After this ordeal, Jiang Shen was in no mood to look at any more letters. He carried the little fox back to his nest and lay down on the bed.

With no one to tend it, the fire gradually weakened, and the cave fell into dimness.

Jiang Shen tossed and turned in the dark.

He couldn’t sleep.

Once certain thoughts appeared—even if only in a single fleeting moment—they were like tiny seeds; once planted, they began to secretly take root in the heart.

Jiang Shen turned his head, using the faint firelight to look at the small nest nearby. In the darkness, the little fox was just a blurry, rounded shadow. He was sleeping quite well and was even snoring softly.

He was quite heartless.

Jiang Shen turned over again, the dry straw beneath him rustling loudly.

The noise continued for a long time. Finally, Jiang Shen sat up.

He wiped his face, stood up to put on his outer robe, and walked outside the cave.

That night, Jiang Shen sat outside the cave for the entire night.