Chapter 26: Estrangement

Wei Li had not felt such piercing heartache in a long time. She clung tightly to the fox’s fur, when suddenly a hand landed on her shoulder. She looked up—it was the fox, alive and real. The fox gazed at Wei Li, her eyes swollen and rimmed with tears that seemed ready to spill with the lightest touch. In surprise, the fox said, “Wei Li, you…”

Wei Li wiped away her tears and, without warning, began to pummel the fox, sobbing as she did so. “Do you know how scared I was? Do you know I thought this was your pelt? You wretched fox!”

“I’m too clever to die so easily,” the fox replied, wiping the traces of tears from Wei Li’s small face. Then, noticing the talisman nail had been removed from her brow, the fox continued, “I’ve never seen you cry before.”

“Have you seen enough?” Wei Li shook off the fox’s hand and stood up angrily.

“Wei Li, the talisman nail on your brow is gone. You’re free now. Haven’t you always wanted to be the queen of the mountain…”

“Let’s go find the monk!” Wei Li interrupted, heading down the mountain on her own. The fox stood rooted, watching her retreating figure, eyes as deep as an abyss, murmuring, “Wasn’t this always what you wanted?”

By the time Wei Li and the fox reached the public bathhouse, Guangzong was simply sitting there, a corpse shrouded in monk’s robes lying beside him. Wei Li knew it was Changshu. That morning, Changshu had left without saying goodbye to Guangzong, wearing an overpowering scent of perfume. Wei Li understood—she too had been cursed with the Soul-Binding Spell. For days, Changshu’s gaze at Si Beixu had changed; she wouldn’t even enter the temple when Si Beixu was present, afraid of what she might become.

But once the Soul-Binding Spell is cast, there is no cure. Watching her body decay day by day, Changshu finally made her choice—to mask the stench with heavy perfume and bid farewell with dignity.

“Monk…” Wei Li sat beside Guangzong, at a loss for words of comfort.

“Changshu lost her parents very young. She grew up in White Horse Temple, was kind and gentle—we all saw her as a younger sister. But why? Why must a good girl like her meet such an end? Why does the Buddha I believe in not protect the pitiable?” Guangzong buried his head in his hands, his anguished cries echoing in the air.

Wei Li reached out and embraced him. “Monk, the Buddha cannot save everyone. He is a faith, a presence in your heart. It’s up to you to save and redeem others.”

“Let’s take Changshu home, lay her to rest with honor, and then we’ll find the killer together.” Wei Li’s small hand gripped Guangzong’s broad palm like a budding lotus shoot. “Or, I could drink with you—drown our sorrows in wine.”

Guangzong looked up at Wei Li with bloodshot eyes. Yes, she was right. The wisdom he’d pondered for thirty years was spoken so easily from her lips—was this some kind of mockery? If he didn’t have faith in his own beliefs, how could he guide others? People said he had a connection with the Buddha, but now, it all seemed a cruel joke.

Abruptly, Guangzong pulled his hand away, his face flushed with shame and fury. “The talisman nail in your brow is gone! I can’t bind you anymore. You’re free—you can do whatever you want! Aren’t you a monster? Don’t you love eating people? Go! Why must you cling to me, why?”

A cold, menacing air surrounded Guangzong, his eyes glinting with rage.

The sudden outburst left Wei Li stunned. “Monk…”

“They all say I’m destined to become a renowned monk, but because of you, look at me now! It’s all your fault!” The veins on Guangzong’s forehead bulged, his face dark as iron as he glared at Wei Li.

“It was you who said you would save me…” Wei Li’s fair face was clouded with sorrow, her brows knitted, her tear-filled eyes like the moon veiled behind drifting clouds.

The fox could hold back no longer. He stepped forward, pulling Wei Li behind him, his green eyes blazing. “We’re all grieving Changshu’s death, but how can you vent all your anger on Wei Li? Did she kill her?”

With that, he dragged Wei Li away. After they left, a bitterness of regret surged within Guangzong, threatening to drown him. He stood, slammed his fists against the wall, a single scalding tear tracing his cheek. Silence as deep as death reigned, broken only by a quiet sigh lingering in the air.

Night had fallen; the streets were deserted. Wei Li, grimacing in pain, begged for a rest. Only then did the fox notice her small feet, rubbed raw and bleeding, soaking through her red embroidered shoes—a result of their urgent journey up and down the mountain.

The fox gathered herbs to dress her wounds, asking casually, “Where do you want to go?”

Wei Li’s eyes dimmed, as if lost in thought, but then she smiled to cover it up. “To be the queen of the mountain, of course. Didn’t I tell you?”

The next morning, under the rising sun, the fox gathered the mountain creatures and together they built a proper stronghold. Wei Li was amazed. “How did you get all these animals to help?”

“I told them the truth: you’re coming to rule the mountain. Those who submit will be protected; those who don’t, will die! So they all got to work, nice and quick,” the fox answered smugly.

“Who knew I was so intimidating!” Wei Li settled into a bamboo chair, clearly pleased.

“Wei Li, you’ve worshiped the Buddha so long you’re starting to forget who you are. You were so ruthless before—who wasn’t afraid of you?” the fox teased.

His words stirred memories in Wei Li. She smiled. “He changed me a lot.”

Days on the mountain passed with sunbathing and listening to the animals’ stories—some joyful, some sorrowful. The fox, growing wild again, hunted for meat, and the mark of redemption on his brow faded day by day. He often brought Wei Li raw meat, but though she craved it, some barrier within her kept her from eating. Fortunately, she still had the gold foil she’d tricked from Si Beixu, which would last a while. Like Wei Li, the others seldom spoke of Guangzong, and she no longer sought news of him. Perhaps this was what set their kind apart from humans.

Winter soon arrived. With meat in his diet, the fox’s health improved; he was more lively, chasing and playing with the animals, or taking human form to gamble in town, always bringing back gold foil for Wei Li, which she gladly accepted. Life without Guangzong was more relaxed and carefree, yet her heart felt empty. The old tree spirit, who told such captivating tales, claimed she was poisoned by love. But Wei Li wasn’t foolish—she knew this was no poison; she had simply fallen for Guangzong. No matter how much she tried to let go, he still occupied her heart.

She disliked worshiping the Buddha, yet forced herself to read long sutras daily just to be near Guangzong.

She hated wearing those ugly robes, but cherished them because they carried his scent.

She loathed the tough gold foil, but forced herself to swallow it because Guangzong disapproved of her killing.

She missed Guangzong so much she felt she might go mad.

Wei Li lay beside the thick trunk of the tree spirit, wanting to say something, but thought better of it. With a helpless sigh, she stood to leave. Her breath steamed in the air. The mountains were bare, the water frozen. Suddenly, a snowflake drifted down. The snow fell faster and heavier, swirling in the wind, until heaven and earth became one. As she prepared to head back to the stronghold, a figure emerged from the snowy haze, drawing closer.

Hands pressed together in a gesture of blessing, wearing monk’s robes and a cotton hat, he walked toward Wei Li with steady steps. As he drew near, Wei Li saw his eyes, nose, mouth—time seemed to freeze. Guangzong exhaled into the cold, gazing at her. “Wei Li…”

She had imagined this scene countless times—Guangzong seeking her out—telling herself she would turn away in pride. But when it finally happened, she found herself unable to be so resolute. Instead, she smiled and said, “That hat—where did you buy it? It’s quite handsome…” No reproach, no pride, no small talk.

“I bought one for you, too. Left it at the temple,” Guangzong replied, the corners of his lips curling faintly.

“Really?” Wei Li asked cautiously, then, as if remembering something, continued, “May I go back with you to get it?”

Guangzong extended his hand to her. Amid the swirling dusk and snow, Wei Li hurried toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her breath warm and damp against his skin. “Monk, you finally came.”

“I’m sorry, Wei Li…”

She clung to him, unwilling to let go. Only when the snow nearly covered their ankles did Guangzong gently pat her back. “Let’s go home.”

The fox watched this scene from afar, a surge of jealousy welling up inside. He punched the tree spirit beside him, who yelped and glared at the fox in wounded reproach. At last, the tree spirit spoke: “You like the chief. All the creatures of the mountain know it. Why don’t you tell her yourself?”

The fox was silent. The tree spirit continued, “I know you’re waiting for that monk to pass on, but when that day comes, do you really think you can take his place at her side?”

The fox turned to the tree spirit. “She’s already fallen too deep.”

“Then you must help her out. For as long as anyone can remember, being with a monk brings only suffering, especially for one who is not human. What does fleeting happiness matter, if in the end, all that awaits is tragedy?”

The tree spirit’s words echoed in the fox’s heart. At last, as if steeling his resolve, the fox charged down the mountain.