Chapter 8 — My Little Vixen

I froze for a couple of seconds, and once the realization finally caught up with me, my face flushed bright red.

"I was only tweaking your ear!"

He lowered his gaze, his long eyelashes fluttering softly.

"Mm."

"And it wasn't even very nice."

I was speechless. There was simply no living through a day like this. Previously, I had no idea that a fox's ears and tails were sensitive vulnerabilities, so I used to touch them with complete confidence and righteousness. Now that I knew, it felt as though every single gesture was suddenly forbidden territory. Yet, ironically, Dung Vong was exceptionally good at playing innocent. With his lips, he claimed it "wasn't very nice," but his tails kept creeping closer one by one. One of them even gently hooked around my finger, as if silently pleading: *Touch me. Please touch me.* I took a deep breath.

"Dung Vong."

He looked at me with an utterly obedient expression.

"Keep a better hold on those tails of yours."

He lowered his head to glance at them.

"They missed you a little."

"And what about you?"

He paused. Then, the tips of his ears began to turn red, bit by bit.

"Me too."

My lingering irritation vanished instantly. We were done for. This fox was genuinely too smooth. After the Beast Management Bureau reopened the old files of the fox clan, countless sealed records were brought back into the light. The title of "Fox King Tyrant" in the archives was finally changed to "survivor of the forbidden palace." Some people called him ruthless. Others said he was merely clawing his way toward survival from within a cage. Former officials of the fox clan came knocking on his door, begging Dung Vong to return and take charge of the realm. Dung Vong refused. The visitors knelt outside the villa gates, their tones deeply earnest: "Your Majesty the Fox King, the fox clan needs you." Sitting in the living room, Dung Vong was busy peeling a tangerine for me, not even bothering to lift his eyelids.

"I do not need the fox clan."

"Your Majesty!"

"I have a home."

When he said those words, his demeanor was entirely tranquil. Yet hearing them made my heart melt completely. Those former officials of the fox clan eventually departed, but before they left, every single one of them cast a deeply complicated gaze in my direction, as if they were looking at a wicked favorite concubine who would ruin the country. I couldn't help asking Dung Vong, "Do you think they feel like I am holding you back from becoming the Fox King?" Dung Vong handed me a peeled segment of the tangerine.

"Not at all."

"Then why were they looking at me like that?"

He considered this for a moment.

"Perhaps out of jealousy."

"Jealous of what?" I asked. With a deadpan expression, he replied, "Jealous that you have nine tails to pet." I nearly choked on my tangerine.

"Dung Vong, you were never like this before."

He lowered his head and went back to peeling tangerines, though the tips of his ears turned red once more.

"You like it."

I fell silent. It was true; I did like it. But having him state it so bluntly still made me feel rather embarrassed. That evening, Dung Vong rare-foundedly took the initiative to ask me, "Would you like to go see the forbidden grounds of the fox clan?" I was startled.

"You want to go back there?"

"No."

He looked straight into my eyes.

"There is too much of my past in that place."

"And I want to lead you there."

My heart softened instantly.

"Alright."

The forbidden grounds of the fox clan lay deep within the Northern Realm. When we arrived, it was the morning of early winter, just after the snow had cleared. Vast, endless forests of white birch stretched out into the distance, and the glare of the snow reflected brilliantly against Dung Vong’s long silver hair. Standing amidst the wind, he looked so breathtakingly ethereal that he seemed like a deity who should never have existed in the mortal world. Yet the further inward we traveled, the more desolate the scenery became. The ruins of the forbidden palace were sealed within a valley; more than half of its white stone walls had collapsed, and the ancient altar still bore the faded stains of old blood. Dung Vong gripped my hand tightly. His palm was freezing cold, so I turned my hand over to clasp his back.

"Don't be afraid."

He said, "I am not afraid." I replied, "I know."

"I just want to hold your hand."

His footsteps halted, and he let out a soft, quiet laugh.

"Mm."

Deep within the forbidden palace stood a single stone chamber. Dung Vong explained that this was where he had been locked away as a child. It was terribly small and bitterly cold. The walls were completely covered in the carved sacrificial texts of the fox clan, and in the corner, I spotted deep, frantic claw marks. They were etched so deeply, as though a child had tried time and time again to escape, only to be dragged back repeatedly. A sharp sting pierced the bridge of my nose.

"Dung Vong."

He stared at those scratch marks with a completely calm expression.

"It is all in the past now."

I said nothing. Instead, I walked over, squatted down, and gently brushed my fingertips over the gouges.

"Did it hurt, back then?"

Dung Vong froze. I raised my head to look at him.

"Did it hurt?"

He stood completely still, motionless for a long, long time. Then, at last, the composure in his eyes shattered entirely.

"It hurt," he murmured in a low voice.

"It hurt terribly."

Dung Vong lowered his head, as if desperate to hide his face from me, but tears continued to fall drop by drop, striking the back of my hand. They landed so softly, yet they felt as though they were breaking my heart into aching pieces. He had lived for so many years—imprisoned, stripped of his tail fur, treated as a sacrificial offering, and branded a monster by his own kind for a painfully long duration. Yet when he wept, he made not a single sound, clutching my hand tightly as if he were finally gripping the salvation that had arrived twenty years too late. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him in a tight embrace.

"Then let me blow on it to make it better."

Dung Vong’s entire body shuddered. I stood on tiptoe and gently blew a soft breath against his forehead.

"There, a gentle blow and it won't hurt anymore."

Finally, he lifted his arms to hold me back. His nine tails slowly unfurled one by one, wrapping completely around the two of us to shelter us within. His voice choked with emotion as he whispered, so softly it was barely audible: "Gu Mian."

"I waited so long to hear you say those words."

A burning sensation stung my nose.

"You won't have to wait anymore."

He hugged me tighter.

"I searched for you for a very long time."

"I know."

"I waited for you for a very long time."

"I know that too."

"Don't ever abandon me, please."

"I never will."

He held me close, his voice as gentle as falling snow.

"I am not a monster."

"I know."

"Nor am I a tyrant."

"I know."

"I am your little fox."

I smiled and stroked his ears.

"Mm. My little fox."

Ever since our return from the Northern Realm, Dung Vong had changed in a way that was impossible to miss. In the past, he had always been gentle and restrained, acting as though he feared any extra demand on his part would cause me to despise him. Now, however, he had learned how to voice his desires. For instance, as we were preparing for bed at night, he would stand by the edge of the mattress, lower his gaze, and ask, "Are we not petting the tails today?" I stared at the nine neatly arranged fox tails fanned out behind him in utter speechlessness.

"Dung Vong, you've certainly learned to be proactive."

The tips of his ears tinted slightly pink.

"You told me that if something is bothering me, I must tell you."

"Is that so?"

"They are troubled."

I was rendered speechless once more. "And what could possibly be troubling them?" All nine tails drooped simultaneously in an exaggerated display of grievance. I nearly burst out laughing.

"Stop pretending."

He sat down on the edge of the bed and murmured softly, "It's the truth."

"Yesterday, you only petted three of them."

"The other six couldn't sleep."

His solemn, deadpan competition for affection amused me so much I could hardly contain my laughter.

"Do tails suffer from insomnia now?"

Dung Vong looked right at me.

"If not, why do you suppose I couldn't sleep either?"

My mind went blank. His logic was far too airtight to argue against. With a helpless sigh, I "reluctantly" reached out my hand.

"Very well. Today, the rain and dew shall be distributed equally."

The tips of Dung Vong’s ears flushed an even deeper shade of red.

"That phrasing..."

"What about it?"

He shifted his gaze away.

"Doesn't sound particularly proper."

I let out a hearty laugh.

"And your tail sneaking around to wrap the waist of my pajamas in the middle of the night—is that supposed to be proper?"

He fell silent. Only the tail on the far left guiltily twitched backward by an inch. I lunged and grabbed it.

"So it was you."

Dung Vong let out a soft groan and raised a hand to cover his eyes. I paused.

"Sharing the exact same sensation again?"

His voice was slightly raspy.

"Mm."

I stared at the outrageously magnificent, fluffy tail resting in my palm, suddenly struck by a strange wave of guilt.

"And yet you still let me touch it?"

He peered at me through the gaps between his fingers, his eyes damp at the corners, his eartips burning crimson.

"I wanted you to touch it."

I was utterly defeated. Very well—this fox had completely picked up some bad habits. From that day onward, Dung Vong grew exponentially more clingy than before. Previously, whenever he wanted something, he would never voice it aloud, merely resting his tail quietly against my hand. Now, however, he would pull me into a deep embrace in the dead of night and murmur quietly into my ear: "Might I be allowed to stay in the master bedroom tonight?" I deliberately teased him, "Just to sleep?"