After returning from the mountain god temple, Bai Heng sat at the entrance of her rock cave for a long time.
Moonlight bathed her, coating her snow-white fur with a silvery sheen.
She gazed at the scattered lamplights in the distant village, her mind replaying Granny Jiang’s words over and over.
A mid-stage Golden Core demonic cultivator could deal with a mere second-tier little fox like her with a casual flick of the hand.
If Granny Jiang truly meant her harm, she would not have gone to such lengths.
That leaf, those deliberate waits, tonight’s lengthy conversation—none of it would have been necessary.
She could have struck from the shadows, and Bai Heng would never have had the chance to react.
Bai Heng rested her head on her front paws, eyes half-closed.
Words could lie, but actions—or the choice not to act—were the most honest proof.
Since Granny Jiang had shared her plans, Bai Heng would simply watch and wait.
She would observe, she would wait, and she would see whether that day ever came.
If it did, cooperating with her arrangements would not be out of the question.
With these thoughts, Bai Heng gradually relaxed.
Insect chirps rose and fell outside the cave. The night breeze carried the fresh scent of grass and trees, gently drifting inside.
She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
The days continued as usual.
Bai Heng still roamed the mountains and forests during the day and returned to her rock cave to cultivate at night.
She continued observing the village from afar, keeping watch on those few Qi Refining spies, on the scholar surnamed Xu and the widow surnamed Wang, and on Old Widow Wu—or rather, Granny Jiang’s small courtyard beside the old locust tree.
Granny Jiang still kept to herself.
She still headed into the woods behind the village every few days to gather firewood.
Occasionally, when she encountered Bai Heng in the mountains, she would glance over from a distance.
That glance no longer held probing or scrutiny—only a faint, warm smile.
It was as if she were saying, I know you’re there.
Bai Heng still did not approach.
She simply crouched at a distance, watching the hunched figure disappear at the end of the forest path.
Her “chance encounters” with Qin Yun continued to happen from time to time.
Whenever the youth entered the mountains to hunt, he would run into the white fox in certain spots—sometimes by the stream, sometimes in the pine grove, sometimes perched on a rock basking in the sun.
At first, Bai Heng still fled the moment she saw him.
She would dash away at full speed, never looking back, vanishing into the dense woods in just a few leaps.
Qin Yun would stand in place, watching the white figure disappear, then shake his head helplessly and continue on his way.
Later, Bai Heng stopped running quite so fast.
Sometimes after a few steps she would pause and glance back, as if checking whether he was chasing her.
Qin Yun never pursued; he simply stood where he was and waited until she was far away.
Eventually, Bai Heng stopped running altogether.
She merely watched him warily from a distance, maintaining her space but no longer fleeing.
If Qin Yun tried to get closer, she would back up a few steps and issue a low, warning growl from her throat.
Qin Yun would stop and not advance any farther.
“You’re getting bolder, little fox,” he once murmured from afar, squatting as he watched her.
Bai Heng offered no reply. She simply gazed back at him in silence.
Sunlight filtered through the branches, falling on the pine-needle-covered clearing between the human and the fox.
After watching her for a while, Qin Yun stood up and brushed the dirt from his knees.
“Alright, I won’t disturb your sunbathing. I’m leaving.”
He turned and headed deeper into the woods. After a few steps, he glanced back.
The white fox was still crouched in the same spot, leisurely washing her face with one paw.
Qin Yun smiled and did not look back again.
That day, Qin Yun brought Qin Yu into the mountains with him.
The little girl wore two bouncy pigtails, a faded floral tunic that had been washed many times, and a small basket on her back.
She skipped along behind her brother.
“Brother, are we picking mushrooms today?”
“Yes.”
“Will we find a lot?”
“Depends on our luck.”
“Can I meet that white fox?”
Qin Yun’s steps faltered. He turned to look at her.
“What white fox?”
Qin Yu blinked.
“The one you told me about last time! You said there’s a really pretty white fox in the mountains that runs away the moment it sees people.”
Qin Yun thought for a moment. He had mentioned it to his sister after all.
“Whether you meet it or not depends on fate.”
He continued forward.
“That fox is really timid. It runs at the sight of people, so don’t expect to get close.”
Qin Yu gave an obedient “Oh” and followed along.
But her eyes darted everywhere, scanning the surroundings as if searching for something.
At that moment, Bai Heng was crouched beneath a pine tree, watching the siblings from afar.
She saw the little girl looking around eagerly and felt a faint stir in her heart.
The girl is looking for me.
She did not reveal herself.
She simply remained hidden, waiting until the brother and sister walked far away.
A few days later, Qin Yu entered the mountains alone.
She claimed she was gathering wild fruit, but in truth she had slipped away from her brother to search for the white fox.
She followed the familiar trail her brother usually took, walking deeper into the mountains while constantly glancing around and calling softly.
“White fox, are you there?”
“I brought you something yummy.”
She pulled a small cloth bundle from her pocket.
Inside were several pieces of malt candy she had bought from the village peddler and saved for a long time without eating.
Bai Heng crouched on a tree in the distance, watching the small figure stop and start along the forest path.
A helpless feeling rose in her chest.
This little girl really has guts.
Coming into the mountains all by herself.
She did not show herself.
She simply followed from afar, observing as the girl wandered the woods for half an hour, found nothing, and finally trudged back with a pout.
After walking some distance, Qin Yu suddenly stopped.
She turned around and shouted into the empty forest.
“White fox, if you can hear me, come here again tomorrow, okay? I’ll bring you more candy!”
Only then did she skip happily down the mountain.
Bai Heng remained on the tree, staring at the tiny figure until it vanished at the end of the trail.
She did not move for a long time.
The next day, Qin Yu came again.
Same small cloth bundle, same malt candies. She sat on a rock, took the candies out, and arranged them neatly in front of her.
“White fox, are you there?”
“I brought the candy. It’s really sweet.”
“Won’t you come out and try some?”
The forest was quiet. Only the rustle of wind through the leaves could be heard.
Qin Yu waited for a long time.
When the white fox still did not appear, disappointment clouded her face. She wrapped the candies back up, stood, and prepared to leave.
The moment she turned, she froze.
Not far away, beside a clump of bushes, crouched a pure-white fox.
Sunlight filtered through the branches, falling on its body.
Its fur was as white as freshly fallen snow, shimmering with a faint, lustrous glow.
Qin Yu held her breath, afraid of startling it away.
She slowly crouched down, took one piece of candy from the bundle, and gently placed it on the ground.
“This… is for you.”
Her voice was soft, filled with nervousness and anticipation.
Bai Heng looked at the little girl’s bright, sparkling eyes.
Something soft inside her chest was gently tugged.
She did not move.
Qin Yu stayed crouched, watching her.
After a long while, Bai Heng slowly stood and walked toward the candy.
She moved cautiously, each step measured with wariness.
When she reached the candy, she lowered her head to sniff it, then gently picked it up with her mouth and turned back into the bushes.
Qin Yu stared in the direction she had disappeared, her face breaking into a huge smile.
“She ate it! She actually ate it!”
She nearly jumped with joy, then quickly covered her mouth so she wouldn’t scare the fox.
That evening when she returned home, she told her brother everything.
Qin Yun listened, stunned.
“You went into the mountains by yourself?”
Qin Yu shrank her neck and answered in a small voice.
“Just… just once.”
Qin Yun sighed and ruffled her hair.
“Don’t go alone next time. The mountains are dangerous.”
Qin Yu nodded obediently.
“Then will you come with me next time, Brother?”
Looking at her hopeful eyes, Qin Yun finally nodded.
From then on, whenever the siblings entered the mountains, they would always check that particular spot in the woods.
Sometimes they saw the white fox. Sometimes they did not.
When they did, Qin Yu would quietly place a piece of candy or a wild fruit on the ground, then crouch at a distance and watch as the fox slowly approached, picked it up, and retreated just as slowly.
Bai Heng gradually grew accustomed to the siblings’ presence.
She grew used to the youth standing quietly behind his sister, watching her in silence.
She still did not let them get too close. She still kept her distance.
Yet that wariness had unconsciously softened a great deal.
One evening, Qin Yu placed another piece of candy on the ground.
Bai Heng walked over, picked it up with her mouth, but did not retreat immediately.
She lifted her head and looked at the brother and sister crouching not far away.
Qin Yu’s eyes sparkled. She whispered, “White fox, you’re so beautiful.”
Qin Yun stood behind his sister without speaking. He simply watched the white fox quietly.
Bai Heng gazed at them for a moment, then turned and walked slowly back into the woods.
After a few steps she paused, glanced back.
That glance no longer held any wariness—only something indescribable.
Then she continued forward, her white figure gradually vanishing into the depths of the branches and leaves.
Qin Yu stared after her and said softly, “Brother, it feels like she recognizes us now.”
Qin Yun nodded.
“Mhm.”
He paused, then added, “Next time we come into the mountains, don’t bring candy. Foxes don’t eat candy.”
Qin Yu blinked.
“Then what does she eat?”
Qin Yun thought for a moment.
“Wild fruit, rabbits, mountain rats… that sort of thing.”
Qin Yu gave an understanding “Oh” and committed it to memory.
“Then next time I’ll bring her wild fruit.”
Qin Yun said nothing more.
He simply gazed in the direction the white fox had disappeared, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
Twilight deepened.
The brother and sister held hands as they slowly made their way down the mountain.
The mountain breeze blew gently, stirring a soft rustling sound.
At the rock cave entrance in the distance, Bai Heng sat watching the two small figures grow smaller and smaller until they vanished toward the village.
She lowered her head and gently placed the piece of malt candy on the ground without eating it.
She simply stared at it.
She licked her lips.
A faint sweetness still lingered in her mouth.
Moonlight gradually rose, bathing the mountains and forests in its glow.