“Are you about to say he made the same mistake every man in the world supposedly makes?” Ban Xia fumed, stepping back toward Xuan Ye. “Fine. This man deserves to be dealt with. Go ahead, collect him. I have no objections.”
“What happened after he killed the woman?” Xuan Ye asked, his tone steady.
“He went half-mad, ran into the woods shouting that he would kill every fox spirit. Not long after, we found his body in the forest.”
The story was laid out—so crude, so simple.
“Can you take me to the place where his body was found?” Xuan Ye finally said after a pause.
Ten years had passed. The old trap site had long been filled in, and vines now sprawled thickly over the ground.
“A malevolent spirit always carries intense resentment upon death. This resentment often lingers in the place where they died, sometimes for decades,” Xuan Ye explained as he bent down, closing his eyes as if to sense something.
“The resentment remains,” he said after a moment, “and it’s very strong. Chi Xue, come here and sense what’s mixed into it.”
“Me? You mean me?” Chi Xue pointed at himself, wide-eyed.
“Resentment often contains the final memories of the deceased. You’re the prophet of the demigod clan—you should be able to perceive it.”
Chi Xue shivered a little, then sat down and began reciting the calming incantation.
At first, he felt nothing beyond the damp ground and the abundance of ants scurrying around.
After a while, the incantation began to take effect. Everything around him grew quiet, and he sank into a meditative state. Gradually, he noticed the ants beneath his feet seemed to be communicating with one another.
“The ants are gathering food for winter,” he said cheerfully, pleased with his discovery.
Ban Xia immediately shot him a glare. “We all know that, genius. Now focus on figuring out how Mo Xie died!”
Chi Xue flushed red with embarrassment and buried his head, concentrating hard.
“Forget it. Let’s go,” Ban Xia said, dusting off her clothes.
“Foxes…” Chi Xue’s voice came at the last possible moment, his potential flaring up unexpectedly. For a brief instant, it was as if his soul had unlocked a deeper awareness.
“There are foxes all around the pit,” he said, his pure nature unable to handle the intense resentment. Blood began to seep from the corners of his eyes. “Inside the pit… there’s a woman… she’s naked… large breasts… she’s the one! She bit off Mo Xie’s tongue with her teeth!”
Because Mo Xie had gone mad with the desire to kill every fox, the foxes and fox spirits had set a trap for him. Before his death, they even toyed with him, biting off his tongue and taking his life.
This was why he hated foxes so much, why his resentment lingered, and why he ultimately became a malevolent spirit.
With this, the story finally connected in a logical thread—a perfect explanation.
“Martens and fox spirits aren’t all that different, so Amber was just caught in the crossfire,” Chi Xue concluded happily.
“Perhaps,” Xuan Ye sighed. “But where is he? Even if we’ve uncovered his origins, it doesn’t mean we’ll be able to find him.”
“What will you do to him?” Li Luo asked hesitantly, his expression uncertain.
Ban Xia immediately pressed a hand to Xuan Ye’s shoulder and replied firmly, “We’ll set him free.”
Li Luo hesitated, biting his lip as if summoning great courage before finally confessing, “Actually… my uncle comes back every year. On my aunt’s death anniversary, there’s always at least one new fox head left on her grave. And in his old house, a new ‘hate’ character always appears. That’s probably the only word my uncle knows how to write.”
“When is your aunt’s death anniversary?”
“September 12, five days from now,” Li Luo replied clearly and decisively.
Since neither Li Luo nor the villagers wanted them staying overnight, Ban Xia and the group left the mountains, only to return four days later.
Xuan Ye insisted on setting out in the middle of the night. He wanted Ban Xia to sleep at the inn, but she refused, dragging her feet and pouting, ultimately being half-dragged up the mountain by Xuan Ye.
The early morning forest was cold and damp. Xuan Ye found a stone for Ban Xia to sit on, then spread the fur coat he’d bought earlier over it for her.
“This reincarnation of Ya Jin is different from the last one,” Chi Xue remarked with a smile, watching Xuan Ye and Ban Xia.
“I’ve heard you say before that Ya Jin was a woman in her last life. Your clan’s reincarnations are strange—changing from female to male and back again,” Ban Xia said, swinging her legs idly while sitting on the rock.
“Our clan’s Ya Jin has reincarnated thirteen times, half as women and half as men. I met the previous Ya Jin—she was powerful but a little cold, not as gentle as this one.”
“Sometimes he’s gentle, but other times he’s as stubborn as a rock. He’s not easy to figure out,” Ban Xia muttered thoughtfully, lowering her head. After a moment, something seemed to occur to her, and she turned to Chi Xue. “Wait—you said you met the previous Ya Jin? Didn’t your Ya Jin die twenty or thirty years ago? How old are you?”
“I’m thirty-eight. Ya Jin passed away when I was nine,” Chi Xue replied, still smiling.
Ban Xia’s jaw nearly dropped. She reached out to pinch his cheek. “Wait—you’re thirty-eight? Do you think I’m an idiot? I—”
Before she could finish, Xuan Ye, who had been silent until now, raised a finger and motioned for silence.
“He’s here,” Xuan Ye said softly, crouching as he moved forward. “Stay here. I’ll go ahead.”
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