Chapter 133

After finishing the walk, Haban took the fox, who was digging in his claws and stubbornly resisting, into the bathhouse.

Before they even arrived, steam was already curling up from the hot water he had drawn in advance.

On the wall shelf, several neatly folded bathcloths were stacked, and on the short stool beside the tub, a clean cloth had been spread. Anyone could tell it was a setup for bathing together.

“Transform right now.”

The fox, sneaking a glance at Haban’s expression, shook his head from side to side.

“Hurry up.”

“Kyeng…”

At the stern tone of reprimand, Dori’s snout worked in aggrieved protest.

Well, yes, he had done something wrong. Haban had warned him not to—since it could be dangerous for him—and yet Dori had ignored it, rolling around on the dirt ground.

But honestly, what was he supposed to do when someone—whoever it was—had piled fallen leaves into a mountain? Leaping onto it and rolling around was pure fox instinct! Was that really something worth getting scolded for like this?

Still, he had to admit: he was far too grimy to face Haban head-on in human form. His forepaws were blackened, his body plastered with leaves—changing into human form now would hardly inspire any dignity.

Dori’s eyes darted here and there, busy searching for an escape route. But before he could think further, a bucket of warm water poured over his back.

“Keng! Kyeng, Kang! Kki-ing!”

He had thought that if he held out as a fox, Haban would give up!

In the end, throughout the entire bath, Dori kept his ears flattened in humiliation and embarrassment. And the moment his fur was dried and he was placed on the bed, he burrowed into the blankets.

From within, he transformed into human form and poked his head out of the covers.

“That’s just too much!”

“And didn’t I tell you to be careful?”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose!”

Watching Haban—who had emerged covering only his lower half, now putting on a robe—Dori smacked the bed in protest. But as soon as Haban turned around, Dori quickly lay down with his head on the pillow, pretending ignorance about why exactly even the space between his legs had been scrubbed.

Sliiide—Haban lightly pushed him to the side and sat down beside him.

Then, as if he disliked how the tousled fringe was covering Dori’s pale forehead, he brushed the hair neatly back and lowered his soft lips to touch lightly before pulling away.

It was nothing like the relentless clinging from that morning. His chest tickled, and beneath the blanket, his toes wiggled.

The mountains ahead were steep. Several times along the way they had lost the trail and retraced their steps from the beginning. After days of searching, the place they finally found was so serene it was hard to believe it had been built deep in such rugged mountains.

“Haha… ha, hahaha…”

…So that’s how it was.

Leaning on a wooden pillar, bending at the waist as laughter poured out uncontrollably, Yungak eventually sat against the post.

“Ha…”

Laughter kept leaking from the corners of his mouth. His flushed cheeks trembled with excitement, his cheekbones twitching. Rubbing one side of his face with his hand, Yungak started shaking his shoulders like a madman before looking up at the sky.

Perhaps he had already been bewitched, which would explain why that white fox kept haunting his mind and stirring up greed.

And even now, after things had come to such a state, he still found himself coveting the white fox. Well, it made sense—if it had the skill to even beguile the Emperor. Yungak’s lips twisted into a crooked smirk. If it was coincidence, it was quite the remarkable one.

The day he was fleeing toward the Yangtze River1 to escape the Emperor’s pursuit, Yungak had spotted a man from the Ho (狐) Trading Guild and a red fox in the mountains.

The way the two stood facing each other—as if man and beast were conversing—reminded him of the white fox and Wonwoo, the one he had missed. Part of him had wanted to cut them down on the spot to vent his resentment, but leaving traces that could be used to track him was unnecessary.

As he was leaving, the sharp, fierce cry of the fox made him turn his head without thinking. A red fox was sprinting up the mountain in the opposite direction, fleeing from its master.

Mocking the man for being foolish enough to lose a fox by letting it roam without a leash, Yungak soon realized something strange.

The man from the Ho Trading Guild—who had been there earlier—was gone, and another red fox lay collapsed on the ground.

When Yungak stopped walking, Iyeok and Moran also halted and followed his gaze.

“What’s the matter?”

“There was definitely a fox and a man from the Ho Trading Guild over there, right?”

“Yes.”

“Just now, a fox ran off that way. But in the same spot, there’s a fox lying collapsed. What do you make of that?”

“…”

It made no sense.

Then, the red fox that had been lying on the ground staggered to its feet, shook its head, and began running in the direction the other fox had fled.

Unable to shake off his suspicion, Yungak returned to where the man and fox had been. There, he noticed clothes on the ground—the very same garments the man from the Ho Trading Guild had been wearing.

The clothes and shoes were there, but the man had vanished without a trace. Could a person simply disappear like that? Was there some strange force at work in these mountains?

While pondering, Iyeok’s expression hardened. What if it had been Yungak who vanished? Suddenly, the entire mountain felt ominous to him.

Determined to leave the area quickly, Iyeok urged haste, but Yungak’s thoughts ran differently.

Perhaps the fox had a burrow connected to somewhere else—it was, after all, an animal that dug—but no, that didn’t seem right. He had clearly seen one red fox escape.

And yet another fox still lay where it had been, the man missing and only his clothes left behind.

It was a ridiculous thought, but an unsettling suspicion arose.

“Iyeok. Could a beast turn into a human?”

“…Impossible.”

“I thought so too. Which is why I’m going to look into it.”

Even with hiding in the Yangtze region being a matter of urgency, Yungak had decided otherwise—and when Yungak made up his mind, it could not be changed. So Iyeok and Moran followed his order and began tracking the path the fox had taken.

They searched for clumps of red fur caught in bushes or fox paw prints, but combing through a vast mountain was no easy task.

They marked tree trunks along the way, repeatedly climbing deep into the mountain only to circle back to their starting point. Fortunately, it was autumn, so food was plentiful enough to keep them going.

In the end, they failed to find the fox—but they did discover a hidden village deep within the mountains.

“Perfect. We’ll spend the night there.”

“We cannot.”

“Why not?”

“A bounty likely hasn’t reached this far yet, but there’s no telling—it’s dangerous.”

“I don’t care. If necessary, we can kill them all. I’m sick of roasted meat. I want to bathe in hot water.”

Yungak, irritated by the unfamiliar mountain life, argued with Iyeok until they compromised: they would first check whether the village was safe.

The three did not enter the village directly, but instead observed from a rock above. What they saw was something they had never imagined.

Foxes and humans living together?

Under a large tree, elderly men sat idly while red fox kits tumbled about, playing tug-of-war with their tails and rolling on the ground. The elders showed no sign of surprise.

“So that’s why Wonwoo claimed it was his fox.”

This must have been the Ho Trading Guild’s secret—a village where foxes were raised.

Such a thing was unheard of. Could it be that the pelts supplied to the imperial palace came from foxes raised here and skinned? Yungak watched the scene below with fascinated interest.

Then it happened.

A young child stepped out through a wooden gate and, in an instant, transformed.

“…!”

The sight shocked Yungak so much that he caught his breath.

That… what was that? The child’s bright red hair became red fur—in other words, the child turned into a fox kit.

Not quite believing it, the three of them retreated into the forest. The more they thought about what they had seen, the stranger and more absurd it seemed.

Yungak glanced sideways, wondering if he had been mistaken, but Moran, who had seen the same thing, looked stunned. And of course—

He must have just realized why he had failed his mission. Why the white fox had not been in the hunter’s cabin, and why the red-haired man had slipped away.

“If the hair was pure white, then it must be that fox.”

As Yungak pieced it together, he burst into loud laughter.

Now he understood everything.

The precious white fox—coveted so much by Emperor Haban—had not been a mere beast at all, but the man Moran had seen in human form.

Now he understood why Wonwoo had risked his life to sneak into the imperial palace to retrieve the fox. Looking back, the two’s behavior had been strangely alike.

Yungak regretted not having seen the white fox in human form with his own eyes.

The Emperor—who was like a block of wood before even the most beautiful women—had bestowed the largest and most splendid palace upon him, lavishing silks and ornaments in abundance. If he was not mistaken, the flesh beneath would be exceptional.

After all, men were physically stronger than women, able to endure much more in any act. While they were narrow and naturally dry, making penetration tight and forceful, that only heightened the sensation.

And yet, they were often so vulnerable to pleasure—after spilling their clear fluid, they could even take the initiative, moving their hips as they clung in embrace. Even the expressionless Iyeok, when lost in pleasure, made for quite the sight.

Leaning back against the wooden post, Yungak let out a long breath. At that moment, Iyeok poured water from a flask and handed it to him.

“What will you do?”

Footnotes

1. Yangtze River (장강 / 长江) — the longest river in Asia, historically a significant transportation and trade route in China. Its mention here indicates the direction of Yungak’s intended escape route, away from imperial pursuit. ↩