Chapter Forty-Four: The Zhang Family Celebrates a Grand Wedding, Xiao Guang Is Shocked During the Drinking Game

For creatures of the unnatural, cultivation requires drawing upon the spiritual energy of heaven and earth; the same holds true for fox spirits. After hearing the explanation from the lame Taoist, the old family head was already half convinced. It turned out that fox spirits rely on the power of the moon's yin energy for their cultivation. On nights when the moon is full, they kneel and bow toward it, beseeching its blessing for their practice. In time, their pupils reflect two moons, signifying their attainment of the Way.

As the lame Taoist finished speaking, the old head of the Zhang family, Zhang Changlin, frowned and asked, “If she truly is a fox spirit, how could mere mortals like us stand against her? I am old and frail—my death would be of little consequence—but what of the guests that come and go in our house, and especially my young grandson Zhang Xiaoguang, who is in the prime of his youth? If his life is forfeit, all the blame falls on me.”

Pitiful indeed was old Zhang Changlin, who, even now, thought only of his grandson, so bewitched by the fox spirit.

Seeing the lame Taoist drinking in silence, Zhang Changlin grew so anxious that tears welled up in his eyes, and he pleaded, his voice trembling, “I beg you, Master Taoist, have mercy on the Zhang family that has endured for a hundred years. Please, help us just this once, and I will reward you handsomely.”

The lame Taoist gave a cold snort. “We care for wealth no more than for dung. If fate so wills it, I shall teach you a method of self-preservation. Come closer and listen.”

Moved by the Taoist’s indifference to wealth and reward, Zhang Changlin revered him as though he were an immortal. Seeing the Taoist relent, Zhang Changlin hurried to lean in, and the Taoist whispered the method in his ear.

Zhang Changlin’s face grew grimmer and grimmer as he listened. The Taoist, wasting no more words, took up his wine bottle and staggered away. Strangely, though he staggered as he walked, he vanished from sight in the blink of an eye.

“Shrinking the ground into inches…” Zhang Changlin muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing.

He returned to the Zhang residence with two servants, but could not find any peace. Zhang Xiaoguang, who had never been sociable, was now beaming as he greeted the guests. His bearing and manners were entirely transformed, displaying the air of a true nobleman—something Zhang Changlin attributed to Zhao Yueshu.

The thought unsettled him. During Zhao Yueshu's stay in their household, her learned and gentle demeanor had won the hearts of all. Remembering the self-preservation method the Taoist had taught him, a chill crept over Zhang Changlin.

After long deliberation, he gritted his teeth and decided to try the Taoist’s method for discerning spirits.

He slipped away alone to the back hall. On his way, he noticed a crowd admiring the white fox-fur coat in the main room, most of them from prominent families, nodding in approval. Yet Zhang Changlin felt no pride—only a vague uneasiness about the coat, which made his skin crawl at a glance.

He hurried to the back hall and ordered a servant to summon Zhang Xiaoguang, the bridegroom.

There are four great joys in life: rain after a long drought, meeting an old friend in a distant land, the wedding night, and achieving top honors in the imperial examinations. Zhang Xiaoguang, dressed in vibrant red wedding robes, was radiant.

Today was not only his wedding day but also the announcement of the results from the provincial examination. Zhang Xiaoguang, brilliant in his studies, had won first place—a double blessing. Yet Zhang Changlin could not muster a smile.

When Zhang Xiaoguang arrived, Zhang Changlin gently broached the subject, hinting at what the lame Taoist had said about Zhao Yueshu being a fox spirit. Zhang Xiaoguang dismissed it, for he had studied the classics day and night and scoffed at all talk of the supernatural. Seeing his grandfather’s superstitious fears, he felt only annoyance.

It was understandable, of course. With a tender beauty by his side, how could she be a four-legged wild fox? Such talk was pure nonsense.

As Song Mo would say, utter rubbish.

Seeing Zhang Xiaoguang’s indifference, the old patriarch grew as agitated as an ant on a hot pan. He was at a loss with this grandson who knew nothing outside his books. At last, Zhang Xiaoguang reluctantly agreed, just to ease his grandfather’s mind, that he would find an opportunity to see whether Zhao Yueshu truly had two moons in her eyes, as the Taoist claimed.

Time seemed to flow gently through the wedding festivities, the melodies of strings and flutes drifting softly as dusk fell and the ceremony began. Zhang Xiaoguang, not wanting to spoil his bride’s good spirits, had yet to find a chance to examine her eyes.

Soon the wedding rituals commenced: the sedan chair was carried, the procession welcomed, the fire basin was crossed, vows were made to heaven and earth, the tokens burned, and the newlyweds were led to their chamber.

Zhang Changlin’s heart was heavy. With the vows made and the tokens burned, even if Zhao Yueshu was indeed a fox spirit, she and Zhang Xiaoguang were now husband and wife in the eyes of heaven and earth, the sun and moon as witnesses.

The wedding banquet began, and Zhang Xiaoguang made his rounds toasting the guests until he was somewhat drunk. Zhang Changlin, seizing the excuse of the wedding, pulled him aside and reminded him over and over not to forget to look into Zhao Yueshu's eyes.

In the bridal chamber, Zhao Yueshu sat with a red veil over her face, the fragrance of orchid on her body, fresh and elegant. Zhang Xiaoguang was entranced—what more could a man desire than a wife like this?

When life is as one wishes, one should drink deep.

Half-drunk, Zhang Xiaoguang felt a surge of joy. He lifted Zhao Yueshu’s red veil. Beneath it, her delicate face was tinged with shyness and happiness—a sight full of charm.

After drinking their nuptial wine, Zhang Xiaoguang suggested they play some lighthearted games to pass the night.

The newlyweds began a game of poetic toasts, the bright moon outside shining like a silver plate. Zhang Xiaoguang recited, “A single thread of moon on the blue river, shining on the boat, fishing three rivers.”

Zhao Yueshu laughed softly behind her hand. “A third of the moon over Yangzhou, a hairpin painting the Milky Way.”

Such pleasures in the bridal chamber were endless. Zhang Xiaoguang lost the round and had to drink another cup. The moment he set the cup down, he froze.

He saw Zhao Yueshu look up at the moon, her eyes clear and bright—and in each, unmistakably, were two moons.

Startled, Zhang Xiaoguang sobered up almost completely. After a moment of hesitation, he found an excuse to leave the bridal chamber and hurried to the back hall.

Seeing his grandson so distraught, Zhang Changlin understood at once. So it was true—Zhao Yueshu really was a fox spirit.

Zhang Xiaoguang was beside himself, and the old patriarch, after much deliberation, finally revealed the method the lame Taoist had taught him.

It was this: a fox spirit cannot maintain its human form for long and must keep its pelt close at hand. Without asking, it was clear that the white fox-fur coat was Zhao Yueshu’s shed skin. Careless as she was, she had left it out. If one could burn the coat while the fox spirit was unprepared, she would be left without her skin, and in moments would be reduced to ashes—her spirit destroyed, with no hope of reincarnation.

After the old patriarch spoke, Zhang Xiaoguang collapsed to the floor, pale as death and nearly fainting.

Unable to decide, Zhang Changlin called for his servants, preparing to burn the white fox-fur coat and destroy Zhao Yueshu.

Zhang Xiaoguang moved his lips as if to protest, but in the end, he said nothing.

When the servants arrived in the main hall with fire in hand, everyone was stunned.

The hall was empty—there was not a trace of the white fox-fur coat to be seen.

Only then did the Zhang family come to their senses and rush to the bridal chamber, but Zhao Yueshu was already gone, her whereabouts unknown.