Chapter Fourteen: The Fox of Lishan, Xiao Wei
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That afternoon, Zhong Yang contacted me by video call on WeChat, saying she had something to tell me.
From the video, I could see that Zhong Yang had grown much fairer and thinner. Her lips were a tender pink. She had told me before that ever since returning from the Daoist sanctuary, she had spent an entire month detoxifying, and everything expelled from her body had been dark green. Those demons and evil spirits had occupied her body, not only draining her spiritual energy but also eating, drinking, and relieving themselves inside her, causing an immense accumulation of toxins.
Now that the toxins had been purged, she looked much more delicate and attractive than before.
Zhong Yang spoke urgently. “I’ve been having the same dream these past two nights. Someone insists that I tell you something.”
The night before last, just after Zhong Yang fell asleep, she dreamed that she had arrived at a place resembling a palace. At a loss, she wandered inside and saw a jade bathing pool shaped like a begonia flower in the center of the hall, surrounded by gauzy curtains. Fresh spring water bubbled within it, while mist blurred the air. Countless rose petals floated upon the warm water. As she approached, she finally saw the woman sitting in the pool.
At the very first sight of that woman, Zhong Yang forgot everything around her. Her mind, her eyes, and her heart could contain nothing but that one woman.
Never, ever had she seen such a beautiful woman. Was she capable of turning the world upside down, or of making entire kingdoms fall? At that moment, only a line of poetry came to Zhong Yang’s mind: “Clouds long to be her raiment, flowers long to be her face…”
Stunned by the woman’s beauty and utterly unable to look away, Zhong Yang was also overwhelmed by a profound sense of inferiority. If even a woman reacted this way upon seeing her, one could only imagine the obsession she inspired in men. It was then that Zhong Yang belatedly realized the beauty was crying.
Drop by drop, tears silently traced her cheeks. She wept quietly, without making the slightest sound.
Despite possessing peerless beauty, she did not even dare to cry aloud. Only after a long while did the woman gradually calm down. She lifted her slender fingers to wipe away the tears on her face and called, “Aman, come here.”
The beauty seemed to have known all along that Zhong Yang was standing outside.
Unable to resist, Zhong Yang walked over and even called out affectionately, “Sister Precious Consort.” She picked up the silk bath towel set aside and was about to drape it over the woman as she rose.
The woman dried herself and put on a crimson dress. With her hair hanging loose, she walked outside. Beyond the bathing chamber lay another hall. A group of flowerlike palace maids gathered around her as soon as she finished bathing. They arranged her cloudlike hair into an elegant coiffure, lightly applied rouge, touched her lips with crimson pigment, and served her with the utmost care.
Once her toilette was complete, the woman refused the sedan chair and insisted on walking down the mountain herself. She had just reached the stone steps when, all at once, it was as if someone had given her a vicious shove from behind.
“Ah—!”
Her body tumbled helplessly down the stairs.
Zhong Yang jolted awake. At first, she assumed it had been nothing more than a senseless dream and paid it no attention. But last night, she dreamed the same dream again. Every detail was identical to the night before, and each time she awoke just as the woman began rolling down the steps.
This time, just as she was about to wake, she heard a man anxiously whispering in her ear, “A demon has been watching Xu Xiaoqian since the Tang dynasty. It’s almost found her now. Hurry and warn her!”
When Zhong Yang reached this point, I asked in bewilderment, “Who was that man? Why did he want you to warn me?”
Zhong Yang was equally puzzled. She could only tell me to be careful lately.
That night, I lay in bed, still racking my brain for an explanation. Suddenly, a man wearing a lotus crown and a broad-sleeved Daoist robe from the Tang dynasty appeared out of thin air beside my bed. Though he was well past sixty, his bearing possessed an indescribable freedom and grandeur.
On his weathered face, his smile still held the openhearted brightness of youth.
“Your Highness, Precious Consort—”
What the hell? Where had this old man come from?
I stared at him in shock, my eyes wide. After a while, a name slowly surfaced in my mind. Hesitantly, I called out, “Li… Taibai.”
When he heard me speak his name, a glimmer of moved tears flashed through Li Taibai’s eyes. His voice was mournful yet comforted.
“Back then, I left the imperial palace because I fell in love with Your Highness. I waited outside the palace for ten years, only to receive news of your death.”
The revelation that Li Taibai had loved Yang Yuhuan genuinely startled me.
But why had he come to find me? Could it be that I was Yang Yuhuan?
Li Taibai seemed to understand my confusion.
“It has been a thousand years since we parted in the Great Tang. Your Highness has naturally forgotten the events of your former life. I should not have come to disturb you. Yet some people and affairs from the Tang dynasty have already found their way back to Your Highness. You should see it with your own eyes.”
He drew a horsetail whisk from his sleeve and waved it before me.
A white screen of light appeared like a projected film, and scene after scene from the past unfolded before my eyes.
After the hot spring water on Mount Li cooled, it gathered halfway down the mountain into a broad, clear stream. A charming young girl bent over the water, gazing at her reflection with self-admiration. Behind her trailed a long brown tail, proof that she was certainly no mortal.
Looking at her reflection, the girl cradled her own face and became deeply intoxicated by her beauty.
“I, Xiaowei, am the most beautiful woman in the world.”
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Beside the stream stood a young man who looked no more than seventeen or eighteen. Two deer antlers rose from his head; clearly, he was a deer spirit. Hearing her boast, he scoffed at Xiaowei’s provincial conceit.
“That’s only because you’ve never seen Yang Yuhuan bathing in the hot springs at Mount Li.”
The fox spirit Xiaowei refused to believe him. “Who is Yang Yuhuan? Don’t tell me she could be more beautiful than a fox spirit.”
The deer spirit lifted his chin. “You don’t believe me? Every October, Yang Yuhuan accompanies the Son of Heaven here to bathe in the hot springs. Go and see for yourself then. I only fear you’ll be so ashamed that you’ll throw yourself against a wall and die.”
His words made Xiaowei even more indignant. Deep in her heart arose an irresistible desire to compete with this woman named Yang Yuhuan and determine who was truly the most beautiful woman in the world.
At last, October arrived. A grand imperial procession, surrounded by attendants, reached the foot of Mount Li. Because part of the mountain road was steep and difficult for palace servants to carry the sedan chair along, Yang Yuhuan stepped down and continued on foot. Xiaowei stood among the rows of welcoming attendants and saw Yang Yuhuan.
Yang Yuhuan wore an exquisite pomegranate-red palace gown. A golden peony hairpin adorned with a ruby dangled at an angle in her dark, cloudlike hair. As she walked up the mountain road, sunlight filtered through the trees on either side and scattered over her and her dress in tiny points of light, like a swarm of golden butterflies dancing around her. Everyone serving her could not help holding their breath, afraid that a single sound might frighten away this beauty who seemed not to belong to the mortal world.
Xiaowei’s expression shifted from astonishment, to disbelief, to shock, to despair—and finally erupted into a fierce, reckless desire to seize her.
Such a beautiful body had to be hers.
She leapt toward Yang Yuhuan, but a golden radiance burst from Yang Yuhuan’s body. Xiaowei let out a scream and was hurled away by the light.
Ignoring the pain, she scrambled up from the ground and exclaimed in disbelief, “She isn’t mortal.”
No mortal could possess the protective radiance of a divine guardian. Only cultivators, or heavenly beings who had descended into the mortal world through reincarnation, could have it.
From that day onward, whether Yang Yuhuan was bathing in the hot springs, practicing her dance, or accompanying the emperor, a fox demon could always be seen staring fixedly at her face from nearby.
Xiaowei’s face gradually began to grow more and more like Yang Yuhuan’s. At the same time, a strong foxlike odor began emanating from Yang Yuhuan’s body. No matter how many highly skilled imperial physicians she consulted, none could cure it. Yang Yuhuan had no choice but to wash herself every day.
When Xiaowei’s face had changed until it bore a resemblance of roughly thirty or forty percent to Yang Yuhuan’s, An Lushan rebelled.
Li Longji fled with Yang Yuhuan and his soldiers to Mawei Relay Station. The troops, exhausted and starving, refused to go any farther. After killing Yang Guozhong, General Chen Xuanli of the Dragon and Tiger Army shouted that Yang Yuhuan, the woman who had brought ruin upon the realm—the living Su Daji of the present age—must also be killed.
With no other choice, Li Longji ordered Gao Lishi to summon Yang Yuhuan.
Yang Yuhuan descended gracefully from the carriage. Though she was already past thirty, the years had taken nothing from her beauty. She remained the woman capable of captivating the attention of the entire Great Tang.
“Your Highness, do not go…”
The palace women of the Pear Garden were all in tears. One after another, they clung to Yang Yuhuan, for they all knew what her departure meant.
Yang Yuhuan silently shook her head.
The world believed that Emperor Xuanzong had first laid eyes on her only after the death of Consort Wu. In truth, she had encountered Consort Wu and Emperor Xuanzong much earlier, when she first accompanied Prince Shou into the palace. The moment Emperor Xuanzong looked at her with a man’s desire and possessiveness, she sensed that something was wrong. She could only console herself that she was his daughter-in-law, and that Consort Wu was still there. Surely nothing would happen.
Yet less than half a year later, the perfectly healthy Consort Wu suddenly fell ill and died.
Had Consort Wu not died, Yang Yuhuan would never have entered the palace. She knew better than anyone what sort of man Li Longji was.
Yang Yuhuan knew that this day would come sooner or later. Once, it had been Consort Wu. Now, it was her turn.
She looked toward one of the palace women from the Pear Garden. The girl’s face was round and rosy, her features sweet and charming. Tears covered her cheeks as she sobbed, “Sister Precious Consort.”
“Aman, live well.”
After giving her that final instruction, Yang Yuhuan turned around. She gazed deeply at the sky one last time. In that moment, she was as extravagantly beautiful as a peony in full bloom—and it also meant that her petals were about to fall.
Then she followed Gao Lishi into the Buddhist hall.
The doors of the hall were shut tightly. Less than half an hour later, they opened again. This time, only Gao Lishi emerged. In a voice thick with sobs, he called out to those outside:
“Her Highness the Precious Consort has passed away!”
The military officers and soldiers surged into the hall to inspect Yang Yuhuan’s body.
Only after the officers confirmed that Yang Yuhuan was dead did the army continue its march, leaving behind only a few attendants and several officers to handle her funeral arrangements.
Inside the Buddhist hall, the fox demon Xiaowei stared fixedly at Yang Yuhuan lying in the coffin. Even in death, her face remained beautiful, and Xiaowei refused to give up until Yang Yuhuan had been buried, her flesh decayed, and it was no longer possible to transform into her.
Watching this scene, I was overcome by a chill. Xiaowei’s obsession was far too intense. She was practically a corpse fetishist.
“She’s trying to find me now?” I asked.
“Xiaowei has searched for you for more than a thousand years. She cannot let go of her obsession with your appearance.” Li Taibai sighed helplessly. “Over the centuries, I have stopped her countless times. That is the only reason she has never found the reincarnation of Your Highness.”
“But I’m not Yang Yuhuan anymore. In this life, I don’t possess Yang Yuhuan’s peerless beauty. Why would she still come looking for me?”
Li Taibai gazed deeply into my eyes.
“What she wants is precisely the face of Your Highness’s divine soul.”
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The next day, I took a taxi to the Daoist sanctuary. Teacher Xing and Yang Yue were spreading open the flattened paper ingots one by one and placing them into bags. I told them about Yang Yuhuan. Teacher Xing said nothing and continued opening the paper ingots.
Yang Yue spoke for him. “Teacher Xing received word from above last night. They said you would have to repay the debts from your life in the Great Tang, so he knew you would come today. These paper ingots are for the Tang soldiers.”
In Yang Yuhuan’s life, it was not only the fox demon Xiaowei who had come looking for her. There were also the hundred thousand soldiers who had died in the wars of the An Lushan Rebellion.
A huge pile of paper ingots was thrown into a bronze basin and burned. Flames leapt and danced. I glanced up at the corridor behind me, where one hundred thousand shadow soldiers in Tang armor stood. Some still had blood on their bodies. Some were missing their heads. Others had severed arms or legs.
Confused, I asked, “Yang Yuhuan is already dead. Why do they still resent her after death?”
Teacher Xing tossed several scriptures for dispelling resentment into the brazier and said, “In ancient times, people valued loyalty to the ruler and love of country. The soldiers would not blame their own foolish emperor. Instead, they would hate the woman who had caused their ruler to ruin the nation.”
The paper ingots soon burned to ash. Teacher Xing swept his hand through the air, and a black gate, thick with sinister energy, suddenly appeared on the ground. Waves of ghostly wind poured from it.
“The debt Yang Yuhuan owed you has been repaid. The hundred thousand soldiers of the Great Tang will all proceed to the Gate of Ghosts. Do not linger in the human world…”
The vast army, still carrying its baggage, provisions, and horses, filed into the Gate of Ghosts.
Once the matter of the hundred thousand Tang soldiers had been settled, it was time to deal with the fox demon Xiaowei. Teacher Xing reached behind me and seized something.
“Ah—!”
A petite white phantom was dragged out.
Teacher Xing clutched Xiaowei tightly by the throat. Her beautiful face turned pale with terror.
“I won’t do it again! Please spare me this once. I won’t come looking for Yang Yuhuan anymore.”
Teacher Xing’s eyes were razor-sharp.
“I’m sending you to Mount Kunlun to cultivate. If you dare cause Xu Xiaoqian trouble again, do not blame me for destroying your powers.”
A pure white lotus drifted down from Teacher Xing’s palm. When it touched the ground, it transformed into a lotus platform. Trembling with fear, Xiaowei climbed onto it, and the platform carried her away toward Mount Kunlun.
I suddenly remembered Li Taibai and asked Teacher Xing, “Did Li Taibai always know Yang Yuhuan’s true origins?”
Otherwise, how could he have written, “If not seen atop the Jade Mountain, then met beneath the moon on the Jasper Terrace”? Both Jade Mountain and the Jasper Terrace referred to the dwelling of the Queen Mother of the West. And in the divine realm, my position was captain of the security guards stationed at the Queen Mother of the West’s gate.
“Haha… Yuer, why not ask me yourself?”
A wild figure, free as the wind, descended into the Daoist sanctuary. He wore a light white robe and a lotus crown, yet he looked far younger than the old Li Taibai I had seen before—barely in his twenties.
I stared in astonishment. “What the hell? How did you become young?”
“The one who came to find you last night was only the mortal soul from my life in the Great Tang.”
The younger Li Bai flicked open a paper fan with effortless grace. His brows and eyes were full of unruly charm.
“I am Lin Jue, a civil official of the divine realm.”
“You’re Li Taibai’s divine soul.”
I understood at once.
“I wrote several poems for you in the divine realm.” Lin Jue’s expression grew wistful as he recalled the past. “Back then, on Mount Kunlun beside the Jade Pool, you were the female warrior guarding the Queen Mother of the West. I caught one fleeting glimpse of you, and I have pondered it ever since.”
Then Lin Jue composed himself and said solemnly, “I have come by command to awaken your wisdom.”
He placed his hand on my head and told me to close my eyes.
A stream of golden ancient characters passed from his body into my mind. My head began to throb with swelling pain. When I opened my eyes, Lin Jue had already vanished.
Teacher Xing came over and struck the crown of my head hard.
“Go in!”
Although Lin Jue had awakened my wisdom, the written characters had remained only on the surface and could not enter my mind. Seeing this, Teacher Xing had been forced to hammer them inside.
That night, a fairly pretty girl stood beside my bed, glaring furiously at me. Her eyes were enormous, nearly as large as Zhao Wei’s, but without Zhao Wei’s liveliness. Instead, they seemed too large for their sockets and bulged slightly outward.
Her huge eyes appeared steeped in poison. Her voice was saturated with jealousy.
“So it’s ‘Clouds long to be her raiment, flowers long to be her face,’ is it?”
She raised a dagger and slashed wildly across my face. She cut me again and again, striking an unknown number of times before finally stopping. With a vicious, satisfied expression, she dissolved into the air.
In my sleep, I felt the faintest trace of pain and slowly furrowed my brow.
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