Chapter 11 Who is the Most Unapproachable Little Fox Spirit

Chapter 11: Who is the Most Formidable Little Fox Spirit

Xie Huanxiang nodded, then turned his head to glance at the closed door of the meditation room.

"Does Huanxiang want to go in and see Big Brother?" Meng Zeshu said with a smile. "But the timing isn't quite right; Big Brother's already resting. Let's not bother him while he's recovering, okay?"

Xie Huanxiang pressed his lips together and nodded.

Meng Zeshu's smile widened as he took the kid's sleeve and led him out. "I heard from folks in the sect that Huanxiang's been getting real close to an outer disciple lately?"

"Mm," Xie Huanxiang smirked, looking kinda proud. He told him everything that happened, tweaking a few details, and chattered on and on. "I just got myself a little dog. He's super obedient."

Seeing that Meng Zeshu was smiling without saying a word, Xie Huanxiang tugged at his sleeve again. "Second Senior Brother, am I really awesome?"

Meng Zeshu leaned down to look him in the eye. "Huanxiang, I can do everything that dog does. Most outer disciples ain't focused on cultivation; their heads are all over the place. You're too naive, it's not good to get too chummy with them."

Xie Huanxiang tilted his head in confusion. "Does Second Senior Brother wanna be my little dog too?"

"..." Meng Zeshu's eyes darkened a bit, and he gave a helpless smile. "Huanxiang..."

Before the man could finish his sentence, Xie Huanxiang interrupted him reluctantly.

"But I only want him to be my little dog."

He still needed Wu Liu to help him do bad stuff—stuff Meng Zeshu couldn't handle.

The kid furrowed his delicate brows, his pale cheeks flushed pink from the sun. His eyes, rounder than a normal fox's, looked at the man innocently, but the corners of his eyes curled up like a fox's, giving a little tempting hook.

Soft and alluring.

Meng Zeshu's smile stayed the same, but a dark shadow settled in his eyes.

Maybe when he wasn't around, the kid had been charming that clueless outer disciple out of his mind, smugly thinking he was the one doing the bullying.

"Senior Brother brought Huanxiang's favorite grape wine. Wanna come to my place and try some?"

Xie Huanxiang's eyes lit up. "Second Senior Brother is the best!"

Meng Zeshu asked casually, "So is Second Senior Brother the nicest person to Huanxiang?"

Xie Huanxiang's wet eyes darted around, and he said vaguely, "Yeah."

Not really.

His brother was the nicest person to him.

Xie Huanxiang spent three days drinking fruit wine at Meng Zeshu's place. He accidentally overdid it, his head spinning, and he took over the man's bed like it was his own fox den.

When Meng Zeshu lifted the covers to climb in, Xie Huanxiang would push him away, his little face serious as he said, "Brother, you can't share a den with me."

When the kid was drunk, he couldn't recognize anyone. Whenever he saw a tall, sturdy guy, he'd get all coy and call him "brother."

"Why not? Isn't Senior Brother the nicest person to Huanxiang?"

"No," Xie Huanxiang shook his head and hummed quietly. "My brother is the nicest person to Huanxiang."

Meng Zeshu laughed it off, not taking it seriously.

He just figured Xie Huanxiang was drunk and talking nonsense again.

On the fourth day, Xie Huanxiang quit drinking fruit wine because the next day was the Liuyun Immortal Sect's yearly cultivation test.

But what really killed his appetite wasn't just that everyone would find out he hadn't trained at all in six months during the test—it was also because—

Why hadn't that fox-hating Meng Zejun taken off yet!

"Second Senior Brother, didn't you say Third Senior Brother would only crash for two or three days?" Xie Huanxiang glanced at the guy staring at him from across the table and hid behind Meng Zeshu.

But he felt that made him look too weak, so he shot a fierce glare at Meng Zejun.

"Whether I leave or not ain't up to him," Meng Zejun sneered coldly.

For the past few days, he'd been lying under Meng Zeshu's bed, secretly watching this little junior brother who looked like a fox spirit, determined to catch the kid's tail.

But most of the time, Xie Huanxiang just lay by the table drinking fruit wine, his nose turning pink, his eyes moist, and even his lips red from licking. He clung to the wine jug and refused to let go. Whenever someone tried to take it, he got anxious and angry—a complete little drunkard.

When he wasn't drinking, he would run to the window alone and shout a few very rustic names toward the forest outside the mountain.

At first, Meng Zejun was puzzled. Later, when he saw a pack of wild dogs jumping around outside the window, vying for the kid to pet them, it all clicked.

This little fox spirit had actually named every wild dog on the mountain of Liuyun Immortal Sect. How boring.

And he, like a fool, had hidden under the bed, watching Xie Huanxiang drink, act coy with Meng Zeshu, and pet dogs for three days.

By the time he snapped out of it, he realized what he was doing.

Damn it. He, a cultivator of the Heartless Dao, had been set up by this little fox spirit.

"So eager to get rid of me? What, afraid I'll catch your tail?" Meng Zejun felt a fire burning inside him with no outlet. He leaned forward, bracing himself with his hands, and stared at the kid. "Tomorrow's the cultivation test. Which of your good brothers are you going to get to help you this time?"

Xie Huanxiang looked at the man's malicious gaze with a bewildered expression.

There were some things he didn't understand. He thought this Third Senior Brother was very strange, always saying odd things.

The fox clan was especially sensitive to human malice.

His brother had told him that if someone harbored ill will toward him, it meant they wanted to bully him.

And if that was the case, he should retaliate.

His brother was the most formidable fox in the clan, his father was the former Fox Chief, his mother was once the most beautiful female in the clan, and he had grown up with the most honored king of the demon race. Even if he was stupid, lazy, and weak, no one was worthy of bullying him.

Xie Huanxiang stepped out from behind Meng Zeshu, picked up the jug of grape wine left over from last night on the table, and poured it all over Meng Zejun's head.

The cold liquid stung the man's eyes, dripped down his chin onto the table, and soaked his collar.

"Second Senior Brother, I'm heading back first," Xie Huanxiang said, glancing at Meng Zejun.

The man stood there, his head drenched in wine, staring at him in a daze like a silly, soaked dog.

Feeling he had gotten his revenge, Xie Huanxiang let out a light hum, stuck his tongue out at the man, then turned and ran off.

Early the next morning, Xie Huanxiang reluctantly crawled out of bed and was taken by his Second Senior Brother to the sect's main hall for the cultivation test.

The so-called cultivation test was really just lining up to pull a sword.

A masterless sword passed down through generations of the Liuyun Immortal Sect.

The higher one's cultivation, the longer the blade they could draw.

But to this day, no one has truly been able to draw the sword.

Xie Huanxiang, as a direct disciple of the sect leader, was near the front of the line, third to go.

But the guy right before him was Meng Zejun, who had pulled the sword out more than halfway.

Seeing how long a section he had drawn, the other disciples watching let out a gasp.

Xie Huanxiang rolled his eyes.

It's just a crappy sword—what's the big deal? These humans always make a fuss over nothing.

He stepped forward, gripped the hilt tightly with both hands, screwed up his face, and yanked back with all his strength.

The sword didn't budge an inch.

Instead, his hands slipped, and he tumbled to the ground.

He didn't bother getting up, wrapping both arms around the sword's blade, but it still didn't budge a bit.

He hated this sword.

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