The fiery red little fox ran with its head down, its four paws moving furiously.
Suddenly, it noticed a layer of warm light spreading across the ground.
It skidded to a halt, turning back in surprise.
Only then did it see that above Qianwu Town, the sky was filled with countless red candles, blazing brilliantly like fire.
Those specks of light hung silently in the night, gathering into a gentle orange-red glow, as if someone had lit an eternal lantern between heaven and earth.
The little fox sat upright, tilting its head up, watching quietly for a moment.
How beautiful.
It flicked its tail, looked away, and turned to keep running forward.
But the moment it turned its head—
"AHHH!!!"
A pair of emerald-green snake eyes were staring at it, right against its face, with an eerie, unblinking gaze.
The little fox let out a startled shriek, rolled three times in terror, its fur puffing up into a fluffy ball.
The red flood dragon blinked, thinking it hadn’t even opened its terrifying massive jaws to deliberately frighten it this time, unlike the first meeting.
Was it really worth such a scare?
The little fox hugged its head, trembling for a while, before finally daring to crack open an eye just a slit.
When it recognized the big, fat red snake, it let out a long sigh of relief, its fur slowly flattening.
“Red Flood Dragon, it’s you.”
Though Xiaomi loved to eat, her appetite was small. The rabbit she had painstakingly roasted had almost all ended up in this big fat snake’s stomach.
The red flood dragon gave a slight nod, acknowledging the greeting. Then it lifted its gaze, looking past the little fox behind it, its expression instantly turning respectful.
The little fox froze. Only then did it notice that a long, stretched shadow had appeared on the ground, slowly creeping over it.
Along with the sound of unhurried footsteps.
The shadow gradually enveloped it, casting a suffocating darkness over its body.
With a stiff neck, the little fox slowly turned around.
It was indeed the gloomy young man it was afraid of.
He stood with his back to the light. The distant orange glow from the sky lined his tall silhouette, his face hidden in shadow and hard to make out, only that pair of eyes gleaming faintly in the darkness.
“Hey, fox,” he said slowly, with his usual coldness, “What did you trade all your cultivation for this time?”
The little fox blinked in disbelief.
This tone had none of the drunk, dazed manner from earlier.
He was clearly stone-cold sober!
“You… you were faking being drunk just now? You tricked Xiaomi!” the little fox asked, eyes wide.
Though it feared him, it felt it had to question such deceit toward a friend.
The young man looked down at it, a slight movement at the corner of his mouth.
“None of your damn business. Tired of living?”
A wisp of murderous aura curled silently around the little fox, a chilling presence coiling around its body.
The little fox stiffened and shut its mouth obediently.
Seeing it behave, Wu Li let out a cold laugh and continued, “For a fox spirit to take human form requires three hundred years of bitter cultivation. Last time, you used your demonic power to give that blind man a little bit of light back.”
“Let me guess. This time, what did you trade for him with all those centuries of cultivation?”
He crouched down slowly, plucked a blade of grass by the roadside, and propped his chin on his hand, idly waving the grass before his eyes.
“I think,” the tip of the grass traced a small circle in the air, “you traded him back his full sight. So he can see the grass, the flowers, the clouds, the lake. Am I right?”
The little fox’s jaw dropped. “How do you know?”
He snorted. “I guessed blindly. After all, you’re about as dumb as a fox can get. Other than trading that, what else could you possibly do?”
Under the moonlight, the young man looked down, his expression unreadable, only the blade of grass swaying listlessly between his fingers.
He had noticed from the moment the fox first appeared in the room: its full cultivation was trickling away, bit by bit.
Like sand through an hourglass, silent and irretrievable.
No wonder it had stared so intently at Mili.
Just to remember her face.
By the time this night passed, it would become an ordinary little fox.
No longer able to speak. No longer able to take human form.
Wu Li tossed the grass aside and stood up.
“So damn stupid.” He turned his back, his voice flat, impossible to read.
If Mili found out, she would definitely cry her eyes red again for this fox.
He took a few steps, then paused.
Without turning around, he just asked:
“That so-called Goddess of Several Paths— was it One Path or Two Paths? How do you find her true form?”
The little fox weakly corrected him, “It’s Goddess of Three Paths.”
It thought carefully. “I’m not sure how to meet her either. People say only those with a karmic connection can encounter her true form; otherwise, you only see a cold, lifeless statue. But whenever I go to the Temple of Three Paths to make a wish, I can always hear her voice.”
Wu Li replied indifferently, “Got it.”
“Oh, and!” The little fox suddenly took a step forward, a pleading note in its voice. “Trading away my cultivation was my own choice. Please don’t tell Xiaoman, and especially not Xiaomi, or she’ll scold me again for not loving myself. I never did these things expecting anything in return.”
Wu Li glanced back at it.
That look wasn’t particularly warm. In fact, it carried a hint of impatience, as if to say, “You talk too much.”
“It’s your life,” he said flatly. “I’m not interested in meddling in others’ affairs. I’ve asked what I needed to ask. You can scram now.”
He paused, suddenly remembering that night on the rooftop and the furry “ball” that had rolled toward him.
He corrected himself: “…You can go now— running, if you like.”
The little fox pressed itself to the ground, as if bowing in a serious kowtow. “Thank you.”
With that, it turned and darted swiftly into the forest.
It had to return to Tushan as fast as possible, while it still had some cultivation left. As long as it could preserve its demon core, it could start cultivating again— it would only take another three hundred years.
It ran very fast. The wind whistled past its ears, and it didn’t notice a wisp of the young man’s murderous aura trailing not too far behind, never too close.
Faint, chilly, like a silent shadow, quietly guarding the little fox on its long journey home.
Wu Li walked forward a few steps and found no movement behind him.
He turned around.
The red flood dragon was still staring fixedly at the stretch of forest, its eyes unblinking.
“What,” he raised an eyebrow, “You want to see that fox off?”
The red flood dragon nodded.
Snake’s heart felt a little wistful. There would probably never be another chance to taste that delicious roast rabbit again. And this little fox chef— well, it was hard to part ways.
But its master was never one to show mercy. It knew that well. So it could only send its regards from afar with its eyes.
“Go ahead.”
The red flood dragon froze.
Huh?
Had the master suddenly shown great kindness?
It whipped its head around, thinking it had misheard.
Under the moonlight, the young man had already turned and was walking away, his back relaxed and nonchalant. He merely tossed out one sentence:
“Come back soon. Don’t make me come find you.”
Before them lay an endless, vast lake, so calm it had not a single ripple.
The water and sky merged into one.
In the middle of the lake stood a solitary tree. It was covered in blossoms as white as snow, petals scattering and drifting down, brushing the water’s surface and stirring faint shimmering ripples.
Beneath the tree was a simple, unadorned table. A woman lounged lazily against its edge, her eyes long and narrow, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips. Her gaze held a trace of compassion, three parts deep.
Around her arm coiled a long silk ribbon, which floated in the air like drifting clouds, now unfurling, now gently trailing.
She picked up a fallen petal, watching the figure strolling slowly across the lake surface. With a hint of amusement, she spoke in a lazy tone, "How rare—this is the first time someone has walked into my dream to seek my true form."
"Young man, you’re quite clever."
Wu Li stepped across the calm lake, leaving no ripples beneath his feet, his robes untouched by a single drop of water, as though the vast, still waters were nothing more than a path underfoot.
A few petals landed on his shoulder. He glanced down and brushed them off with a trace of disdain.
Then he lifted his eyes to look at the woman by the table.
He scrutinized her from head to toe.
"So you’re the Lady of Sangu?"
"I seem a little uglier than my statue."
