The Heavenly Fox Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title & Acknowledgments

  Preface

  Part 1

  Part 2

  Part 3

  About the Author

  The Heavenly Fox

  Richard Parks

  PS Publishing Edition February, 2011

  eBook Edition October, 2013

  © 2011, 2013 Richard Parks

  "’A fox who reaches the age of fifty gains the ability to transform into a human woman. A fox who reaches the age of one hundred can transform into either a beautiful young girl or a handsome gentleman at will and achieves the perception to know everything that is happening around him or her to a distance of over four hundred leagues. A fox who reaches the age of one thousand years, however, becomes a Heavenly Fox, an Immortal of great power, able to commune with the gods themselves.’ This text as recorded by the human scholar Kuo P’u in his Hsuan-Chang-Chi describes a fox’s true path to immortality, which this worthless book before you will complete and clarify. It will not, however, reveal immortality’s great secret, for this cannot be contained, save by those who discover it on their own.”

  — From the preface to The Den and Burrow Guide to Immortality

  Part 1

  The main problem with achieving immortality, Springshadow reminded herself, is that you had to live long enough.

  That is to say, the preparations for immortality required one thousand years, and one thousand years was not eternity. One thousand years merely seemed like eternity. Especially to Springshadow, who had already counted her nine-hundredth and ninety-ninth birthday almost a year before and felt every one of those birthdays now, though she told the young scholar Zou Xiaofan that she had just turned eighteen. She looked eighteen, and so he believed her. But then, Xiaofan always believed her. Springshadow found that a useful trait in a lover.

  "I cannot imagine what my life would have been like without you," he said from his sickbed.

  Springshadow understood the irony, but didn't bother to appreciate it. She just smiled and took his hand for a moment after she set the lacquered tray down on the table beside his bed. "Drink your tea. You need to regain your strength."

  The rooms Xiaofan rented in the provincial capital were small, merely a bedroom adjoining the slightly larger space he referred to as his "studio". Over the years Springshadow had seen many more rooms that fit the designation better. Even so, like the thousand year fragment of eternity, the differences were more degree than kind. Here on the table was a lump of uncarved jade, there the skull of a badger. Xiaofan's books were arranged on shelves on the far wall, various scrolls and documents in cubbyholes in a small chest near the floor.

  When Springshadow took the empty tray away, she noticed something new on the table, a small parchment containing part of a poem, a stiffening, black-tipped brush, and an inkstone in bad need of a cleaning. Springshadow leaned close and read the fragment of poetry. It was about her. The poem, incomplete though it might be, was in Springshadow's opinion a rather lovely piece of verse.

  In their short time together, Springshadow had grown fond of Xiaofan in her fashion, but even that miniscule bit of concern was beside the point. The goal — the goal was all that mattered. Three more days were all she needed. No more. No less. In three more days she'd have drawn enough of Xiaofan’s living yang energy to brew the elixir that she needed to survive until her next birthday. The most important birthday: her one-thousandth birthday.

  "Springshadow?"

  "Yes, my love?" she answered immediately. "Do you need something?"

  "You," he said. "I need you."

  Springshadow closed her eyes, and for a moment her hands balled into fists.

  Three days, Xiaofan. If I can wait, so can you, but of course she did not say that. She unballed her fists and composed herself. She kept her voice melodious. "You're not strong enough," she said.

  That was a mistake. Springshadow knew it the moment she said it. She should have dropped hints about being "indisposed". She should have changed the subject. But no, she had told the truth. Springshadow steeled herself to deal with the consequences.

  "Is there another?"

  "What rubbish! Do you think so little of me?" she countered.

  "You're young and beautiful. I know you have many admirers."

  Springshadow sighed, put down the tray, and returned to the bedroom. Xiaofan had managed to prop himself up against the frame of the bed. Springshadow smiled down on him. "Of course I have many admirers. Yet where am I now? I am here to attend to you in your illness, that's where."

  "Because you love me?" he asked.

  "I certainly don't love your money," Springshadow said coyly.

  That part was true enough. Xiaofan was of good family, but he was not wealthy. He had prospects, of course. He had done well in the regional examinations, and there was reason to think that, once his health had improved, he would perform at least as well in the Imperial Examinations that would determine his status in the bureaucracy that ran the nation. Once he had achieved the rank of Second Level Scholar, he was guaranteed a decent government post, and that was just the beginning. He was an extremely gifted young man. Springshadow knew this to be true, as did Xiaofan. He was also in love with a spirit fox. That was the part that she, alone of the two of them, knew for truth.

  "My father is dead. I am now the head of my house, and it is past time for me to take a wife. I want you, Springshadow."

  "Lie down now," Springshadow said sternly. "You must save your strength."

  "I am not joking." Xiaofan reached into a small chest on a table by his bedside and pulled out a necklace of cylindrical jade beads. He sat up then, so suddenly that Springshadow, surprised, had no time to react. He put the necklace around her neck. "When I am stronger we will have a proper ceremony, but from this day forward I am your husband."

  For a moment Springshadow did not know what to do. She considered returning the necklace, but the last thing she wanted just then was a fight with Xiaofan. She knew how weak he was then and why, even if he refused to admit that weakness. "If it pleases you," she said finally. "Now lie down."

  His hand was on her arm as she lowered him down on the pillow, surprisingly strong despite his condition. When his head touched the pillow again he did not let go.

  "Xiaofan...husband, let me go."

  "No," he said. "I cannot. You say you love me. Show me."

  Just for a moment, Springshadow considered doing exactly that. All she had to do was drop the necklace on the floor, walk out the door right then, and never see Xiaofan again. He would recover. All would be well with him. In time he would find another, and so would Springshadow.

  Yet time was the entire problem. Brewing the Golden Elixir was a delicate matter, and the preparations were arduous with each lover. Perhaps she would have time to start again. Or perhaps the nine hundred and ninety-nine years she had waited would be for nothing. She could take that chance, if she felt strong enough. If her very small bit of affection for Xiaofan outweighed her fear.

  She was very afraid.

  Springshadow kissed Xiaofan, and then she gave him what he desired. She was as gentle as she dared to be, even though she knew it would make no difference. Xiaofan was weak and far too eager to prove that he was not weak, and just for a few moments, he made her forget his true condition. That time was very short. When it was all done, she adjusted her robes and then held up a glowing, golden ball of light in her two small hands. Xiaofan stared at the ceiling.

  "Goodbye, Beloved Husband," she said, but of course he made no answer. Springshadow sighed and found her way out, silent and stealthy as only a fox could be. No one saw her leave. Especially not Xiaofan. Springshadow was certain that the body would not be discovered for days.


  She barely made it back to her den in a cave high in the mountains of Shandong. A sudden weakness had come over her. She knew then, if she had waited one more day, she would have been too late. That knowledge wasn't comfort, exactly, since she was a fox and hardly in need of comfort over the death of a human, even one she had some affection for, but she did take the knowledge as justification. She had wanted to give Xiaofan three days to recover, but now she realized her foolishness; she did not have those days to give. It was an odd turn of events, but she knew that Xiaofan's impatience had saved her. Yet, as matters stood, it would still take every bit of her remaining strength and time to complete her task.

  Springshadow took the ball of yang male energy that was all that remained of Xiaofan, and she coaxed it into a small cauldron simmering over a fire in her hearth. She chanted the proper spells and stirred in the prescribed manner. Then, when all was ready, she worked the final magics that all foxes knew and converted the yang essence into the Golden Elixir, which she drank while it was still hot. She finally sat down on a stool beside the fire, letting her weariness get the better of her for a little while. The weakness was long gone, and after she had rested a bit, the weariness wasn't quite so heavy. She felt strong.

  There was a roll of thunder outside the entrance to her cave, though the day was bright and sunny. Another moment and a shadow fell over the entrance.

  "So you did it. I had to come see for myself. And don't bother to get up."

  In a roil of clouds and vapor, the Taoist Immortal known as Wildeye strolled into Springshadow's cave. He seemed like an ordinary man, slightly graying hair and beard, middling height. All that set him apart — other than the drama of his entrance — was a faint glow about him that seemed to flicker in ragged ways that had nothing to do with the clouds or wind.

  She frowned. "I won't bother, but how did you know about the Elixir? It only happened a few minutes ago."

  "I would guess that your sense of time progression would be affected by your impending immortality. But I'm more of the opinion that you're simply preoccupied. Zou Xiaofan's body was discovered three days ago."

  "Oh," she said, and that was all.

  "Oh? Surely you're not surprised. About the body, I mean, not the matter of your losing track of time."

  "He didn't give me a choice," said Springshadow.

  Wildeye frowned. "You sound defensive. Meaning you made a choice not entirely pleasant to you?"

  She shrugged. "If you came to chide me, Wildeye, please yourself. Xiaofan was the last human I used for my own purposes, but he was hardly the first. It was only through my own forbearance that I managed to take what I needed without killing anyone before now. I am sorry for Xiaofan. It would have been pleasant to complete my mission without taking any life at all, but I did what I had to do, and there's the end of it. I've had the final draught of the Golden Elixir that I will require. That's all that matters."

  He sat down on a low stool without waiting for an invitation. "Why pleasant?" he asked.

  Springshadow blinked. "What do you mean? As a former human, I would think you'd applaud my mercy."

  He shrugged. "As a former human? Certainly. But you're not human, former or otherwise. You're a fox Springshadow, and I've known other foxes on the same path you're on. There's not a one of them who left her victim alive at the end, save by accident. Why do you care?"

  "I don't. I just thought it would be more...elegant, this way."

  "Of course."

  "It's not as if their deaths served my purpose as such. It was their living essence I required, not their lives."

  "True, though a man drained of his yang essence is scarcely worthy of the name."

  "That's not my concern. Besides, too many dead bodies attract attention, which I obviously did not need or want."

  "No argument," replied Wildeye, looking disgustingly cheerful.

  She scowled at him. "Well, it sounds like an argument."

  "I'll just note that your answer keeps changing. Which means you're still thinking about it. Which means you're not sure yourself why you tried not to kill."

  She looked up at him. "Which means?"

  He shrugged. "It may not mean anything. I don't judge, Springshadow. I merely observe. It's really all I'm competent to do."

  Perhaps the strangest — and certainly most annoying — thing about Wildeye was his penchant for stating the truth, even about himself. Strange because he had not achieved his immortality through meditation or the Eight Pillars of Taoist practices. Rather, he had managed to slip into Heaven itself and steal one of the peaches of immortality from the Celestial Garden. He was immortal because he had no choice. He was powerful because it was the nature of power to align itself with immortals of all stripes. He claimed no special virtue, and it's true enough that, so far as Springshadow had observed, he possessed none. He had become Springshadow's friend over the centuries because they understood one another, though sometimes Springshadow ruefully conceded that he understood her just a little too well.

  "So I killed one lover rather than hundreds. One life is still a murder, and I am guilty. The fool married me before he died, thus I have murdered my husband and am doubly guilty. As I am never going to die and face judgment from the Lord of the Underworld or anyone else, the consequences don't particularly concern me."

  "Spoken like a true fox," said Wildeye with grudging respect. "How long?"

  "My One-Thousandth birthday is tomorrow. At dawn I will become an immortal."

  "Then I will return to greet the dawn with you. I've never seen this transformation before," said Wildeye, and in a blast of wind and swirl of clouds, he was gone.

  "Neither have I," Springshadow said, though she was quite alone.

  Her isolation was not quite literally true. Though not yet immortal, she already had the gift of awareness and used it now to scan the terrain surrounding her mountain home. It was, as she expected, nearly empty. That was one reason she had chosen it in the first place. While she had cherished the gift of awareness when it had come to her on her one-hundredth birthday, over the years it had become more a burden than anything. Honestly, why should she care that a nightingale two mountains over thought a particular pebble was very shiny? Such things could fill her mind if she let them, which is why these days she never used her awareness except to check if anyone in the vicinity wished her harm. She had never found anyone who did, since very few people knew who and what she was, and those who did either didn't care, or if wronged, were in no position to seek revenge.

  All her careful planning would culminate at tomorrow's dawn, and that, she knew, would be that. She would have succeeded where so many others of her kind had failed. Springshadow only knew of one other fox who had made the transformation, a male known as Sunflash, and no one had seen him in centuries. Some of her kind wondered about this absence and what it meant, but Springshadow did not wonder. A Heavenly Fox would clearly have concerns far beyond those of mortal foxkind. Tomorrow she would know what those concerns were and share them. She would dwell in the Heavens. She would be nothing less than a goddess. Springshadow had never been a goddess before. She could hardly wait to try it.

  "Hello," said someone who should not have been there.

  Springshadow looked up to find a radiant being in yellow and blue robes smiling down at her. The intruder appeared to be a human woman of surpassing beauty, but Springshadow knew a goddess when she saw one — even though she had never seen one in her long life before this morning. Illusion was second nature to a fox, and Springshadow would have known if the being was something other than what she appeared to be. In an instant Springshadow was on her feet, her weariness forgotten. She put as much distance between herself and the intruder as she reasonably could.

  "Who are you?!"

  The goddess raised her right hand, palm open and facing toward Springshadow. "I'm sorry if I startled you, but I mean you no harm, Springshadow. My name is Guan Shi Yin."

  "The Goddess of Mercy?"

  Now Spring
shadow was really confused. Guan Shi Yin had several special realms of responsibility, including helping infertile women and comforting souls in pain, even those tormented in the pits of hell. Yet there was nothing about her, so far as Springshadow knew, that had any interest in foxes, heavenly or otherwise.

  "The same," said the goddess. "My methods of travel are somewhat unconventional, so I didn't realize you wouldn't know that I was coming. Again, my apologies."

  Springshadow wasn't sure if she should bow or not, so she settled for a polite nod. "To...to what do I owe the honor of this visit, Immanent One?"

  There was a trace of a smile on the goddess's face. At least Springshadow thought there might be. Or perhaps it was just her normal expression.

  "Springshadow, tomorrow you will have lived one thousand years as a mortal. Since you are a student of The Den and Burrow Guide to Immortality, I have no doubt that you think you understand what that means, but one effect you may not be aware of is that an impending ascension weakens the barriers between the Heavens and the mortal realm. This allowed me to find you easily. In my capacity as the advocate of the dead, I was asked to deliver a message to you."

  This was an eventuality that Springshadow had not prepared for. Apparently her impending ascension had already come to the attention of Heaven. She wasn't entirely sure that this was a good thing. She had spent most of her life avoiding anything that might interfere with her plans. This development had the scent of interference — or worse — all over it.

  She steeled herself. "A message? From Whom?"

  "In life he was your husband, Zou Xiaofan."

  For a moment, Springshadow forgot to breathe. She composed herself with an effort. "You're running errands for a lowly ghost?"

  The smile, while remaining ethereal and faint, didn't waver. "My special charge is the ease of suffering. There was something Xiaofan wished to tell you. The matter was troubling him greatly."