Chapter 8

That day, the aroma of the wedding feast drifted from the kitchens all the way to the front courtyard.

I’d craved it for most of the day. When the feast finally began, I was ready to slip between the tables and help myself.

The crown prince had invited ministers and old friends he knew well. They all knew about his greedy fox.

Some even included tasty things for me among their gifts to win his favor.

Before I could reach the front courtyard, Zhong Rui called to me from the courtyard gate.

In his scarlet wedding robes, handsome and radiant, he looked like the finest young man in the world.

That fine young man was holding a bowl of broth.

“It’s chaotic out front. Don’t go racing over yet. Have something to tide you over. I’ll have food brought for you later.”

The crown prince himself crouched before a fox, watching me lap up the broth with delight.

Then he reached out and stroked my head.

“Ah Hu.”

He was so lazy. In all those years, he’d never given me a proper name.

Once I’d revealed that I could speak, I’d even protested about it.

He’d said, “Ah Hu sounds lovely. You are a little fox, after all.”

That day, as I noisily drank the broth he’d brought as usual, I made sure no one was nearby and answered softly,

“What?”

He smoothed a tuft of fur on my head and smiled.

“Nothing. Take your time.”

I made an answering sound. “It’s almost the auspicious hour. Shouldn’t you go to the wedding ceremony?”

As he left, I looked up from the rim of the bowl.

His retreating figure in wedding red was the last thing I saw before I collapsed.

When I woke, I was lying in a patch of wild grass somewhere I didn’t know.

Everything hurt, as though I’d been skinned and had my tendons torn out. My chest hurt most of all.

My inner core was gone.

I didn’t even have the strength to walk.

For three days, I lay among the weeds, watching the sun rise and the moon set, wondering whether Zhong Rui knew I was there.

Would he come looking for me?

On the fourth day, I stopped wondering.

Because spiritual power was leaking from every part of my body.

If I didn’t do something, I would die.

A nine-tailed fox stores spiritual energy in its tails. In a crisis, severing a tail can save its life.

With the last of my power, I formed a sharp blade and cut off three of my own tails.

The pain was worse than having my skin and tendons stripped away.

But the energy those three tails released temporarily replenished what I’d lost with half my vital blood and my missing core.

It kept me going until I reached the fox den. Only then did I dare let the pain drag me into unconsciousness.

Later, I woke in the parasol grove.

Azure Bird crouched beside me with a frown and asked coldly,

“How did you get yourself into this state?”