The Little Fox's Immortal Cultivation Encyclopedia

Three more days passed as the clouds rolled and unrolled.

Mountain God Temple.

Rough hands pushed open the wooden door, and a middle-aged man in a blue cloth jacket walked into the yard, put down the firewood he was carrying on his shoulder, and glanced around the corner of the yard.

It had rained the day before yesterday, and the pile of firewood in the yard was damp and moldy. He picked up a wooden rake leaning against the wall, spread the moldy firewood out in the sun to let the autumn sun dry it. He then picked out a few more badly moldy pieces and threw them into the withered grass outside the yard. Finally, he picked some more from his carrying pole and added them to the firewood pile.

"What a fool! He put the wood he found in such an obvious place. Someone else will steal it right away." The fox crouched on the courtyard wall, secretly observing.

Unaware of what was happening, the man wiped his hands clean with his clothes, took out three incense sticks wrapped in red cloth from his pocket, lit them gently, and once the flames were burning steadily, placed them in the incense burner on the offering table. Then he bowed his head and clasped his hands together in prayer.

A few wisps of bluish-gray tobacco drifted out of the main hall, flying straight towards the fox and entering its nostrils.

It tasted as sour as wild fruit, as sweet as peach, as astringent as wormwood, and as numbing as Sichuan pepper. The complex flavors swirled in the fox's mind, and the fox felt as if a connection had been formed between itself and the human. Even though the human's back was turned, his face was clearly visible, and although his lips were not open, his voice rang in his ears.

"Mountain God above. Please bless my Peach Village with no disasters or calamities, bless my Pu family with peace and tranquility, and bless my son Caiyu to study hard, write well, pass the imperial examinations, and not do anything naughty."

The fox's eyes widened: "Another sound?"

"Fragrance is the pure energy of heaven and earth. The divine way is formless, and it is conveyed through fragrance." The voice appeared at the right time.

"The voice... is that cry, different from yours, from someone of your kind?"

"Burning incense with fire, sincerity arises from the heart. Incense serves as a boat, ferrying wishes to the divine."

The fox understood: "The incense is good, inhale more. The new sounds are made by humans to be heard by the gods. Foxes are fox spirits, not gods, so ignore them."

The fox began to inhale fiercely.

The man raised an eyebrow. The fragrance was unusually strong today, accompanied by a subtle, almost imperceptible sense of being watched—not malicious, but filled with pure joy. He suddenly looked up, and sparks of incense entered his eyes. The incense sticks were halfway between him and his body, yet they burned his brow and eyes.

A strange feeling flowed from my heart. It was the doubt passed down from generation to generation, but no one had ever witnessed it. It was the bitterness of sincere worship over the decades, regardless of the cold or heat. Now, it was all exhaled from my lips and turned into a breath of turbid air.

The incense ash fell to the bottom of the burner with a barely perceptible sound. The man suddenly awoke, reached into his robes, and pulled out a red cloth. But his hands were trembling so badly that he simply stuck all the incense sticks into the burner.

The aroma was so strong it seemed to condense into rain; the unique scent of incense grew even more intense, its sweetness surpassing all other flavors. The fox happily inhaled, then suddenly sensed something was amiss, closed its mouth, and stared at its belly.

Unlike moonlight, the incense smoke didn't instantly dissolve into the body; instead, it remained a solid mass stuck in the stomach. After several breaths, a thin wisp of smoke, as fine as fox fur, finally emerged from the edge and merged into the body.

"Oh no, I ate too much!"

The fox swung its tail, straining from the tip to its snout, trying to digest its food quickly. Its stomach felt nothing, but then its vision blurred, and it suddenly sensed something, looking up into the distance.

The weather in the mountains is always unpredictable. Before they knew it, dark clouds had gathered in the sky, gradually closing in with the wind, and the light of day was slowly fading. But the fox's vision seemed to pierce through the clouds, and he saw a village surrounded by a peach grove and heard the laughter of children.

The scene was fleeting, leaving only the image of the woodcutter in the fox's mind. The last incense stick had burned out, and the man, snapping out of his reverie, glanced at the weather, hurriedly tidied the yard, and quickly went down the mountain. The fox sat quietly until the woodcutter was far away, leaving only a vague impression.

Dark clouds shrouded the temple, and the fox suspiciously withdrew its gaze and scurried into the main hall.

"Don't inhale too much incense, or you'll become as stupid as a human." The fox nodded confidently, hesitated for a moment, then dragged the prayer mat back to the wooden platform. It sat upright in front of the statue, just like a human, its two black paws raised, and whimpered.

"Mountain God above, don't let that human be caught by the big bird, and don't let his nest be washed away by the rain. Let him come quickly to give the fox incense, but don't put in too much next time."

Raindrops soaked the desolate temple, and fine curtains of rain fell from the eaves. A fox sat quietly before the statue of a deity, its paws tucked in and its head bowed.

"Tap tap tap—" The fox's ears twitched slightly. Tonight seemed unusually lively. The fox suddenly hid behind the wooden platform.

"Take shelter from the rain here!" Two chestnut horses, soaking wet and puffing out white steam, stopped in front of the temple. The man who spoke, dressed in black with a sword at his waist, dismounted first and went to help the man in the plain brocade robe behind him.

"Bang—" The man in tight-fitting clothes pushed open the temple door forcefully and quickly looked around: "Magistrate Zhang, this is an abandoned temple, and there is no one else here."

"A deserted temple? Encourage yourself. Go back on your horse and fetch a few sticks of incense." Magistrate Zhang wiped his face and turned to give the order.

Clad in the chill, Magistrate Zhang strode into the main hall and tidied himself up briefly. A short while later, the man called "Encouragement" returned carrying a pile of firewood.

"Magistrate, there is firewood stored in this courtyard, which will be just enough for us to warm ourselves up."

"Hey, don't take it indiscriminately; it might be money stored up by the people."

"Don't worry, Magistrate, I'll go and chop some more for him once the rain stops." The man piled firewood at the entrance of the palace, moved the futon to a different spot, and let the magistrate sit down. "Why is this futon still covered in down? That's strange."

"Bad guy! He stole the good man's wood and even ruined the fox's little den!" The fox watched secretly, his teeth itching with anger.

Magistrate Zhang, oblivious to the fact that he was sitting on a fox's bed, asked, "How far is it from here to Tao County?"

"It's only about twenty li away. Magistrate, bring the incense."

The magistrate took the incense sticks and respectfully inserted them into the incense burner: "Mountain God above, please let the rain stop quickly."

The man started a fire, muttering to himself, "If this mountain god were truly powerful, why would he live in a dilapidated temple? In my opinion, this rain isn't going to stop anytime soon."

"This is terrible! Mianli, do you remember what that Taoist priest said before we took up our posts: 'We must not spend the night in an abandoned temple'?"

"Rest assured, Magistrate," said Mian Li, "the people here are honest and simple, and there have never been many bandits. With the rain so heavy and no one around, what is there to fear?" Mian Li gripped his knife, gave a half-draw, and laughed, "Even if someone came, how could they possibly withstand my precious sword? Magistrate, have you forgotten that little thief from before…?"

"Not only bad, but also stupid!" The fox translated the voice to itself, shaking its head until it left afterimages. "A strange person has walked up to the palace!"

A pair of mud-covered cloth shoes stepped into the hall without warning. Only then did the two people warming themselves by the fire realize what was happening.

"You scholar, you didn't even wipe your feet before coming in, making a mess!" The man was both surprised and angry, glaring at the visitor. "Still out at this hour? You must have ulterior motives. Tell me your name right now!"

"My surname is Chang. I am currently traveling and studying," the scholar said, putting down his books and bowing with his hands clasped.

"Just call me Changsheng."