Chapter 12 Who is the Most Timid Little Fox Spirit

Chapter 12: Who Is the Timidest Little Fox Spirit [Little Fox Spirit]

Xie Huanxiang was so exhausted that, hugging the sword in his arms, he lay motionless on the ground.

Suddenly, a low chuckle came from the side.

Xie Huanxiang turned his head to look, and Meng Zejun immediately restrained his smile, putting on a stern face and looking away.

He got even angrier.

What a crappy sword—who even cared about pulling it out?

Xie Huanxiang tossed the sword to the ground and gave it a vicious kick.

A clang rang out as the blade slid out of the scabbard.

“...”

Everyone around him gasped.

Meng Zejun: ???

Xie Huanxiang stared blankly at the sword, now completely separated from its sheath.

Was it broken?

The young man, with his moist eyes, glanced around at everyone, who all looked at him in shock. He quietly retreated behind Meng Zeshu and said, trying to sound defiant, “I... I didn’t mean to break it by kicking it! Who knew it was that flimsy...”

His voice trailed off, but inside, he couldn’t help feeling secretly thrilled.

Even the treasured artifact of the Flowing Cloud Immortal Sect—broken with just one kick from him. When the full moon came tonight, he’d send this huge news to the clan leader via a message.

He was just too awesome.

“Huanxiang, it’s not broken,” Meng Zeshu said with a wry grin. “It’s just... it’s chosen you as its master.”

“The divine sword has chosen a master? Little junior brother is seriously impressive!”

“Little junior brother is so skilled; we can’t keep shamelessly asking him to call us senior brother.”

“Can it take that back?” Xie Huanxiang whispered.

He couldn’t even fly on a sword, and this one was so heavy—if he had to carry it on his back, it’d wear him out.

He didn’t want a sword. Powerful fox demons used their claws to scratch people; only clawless humans needed weapons.

If he went back to the Cangshan Snow Domain carrying this sword, he’d get laughed at.

As if it heard him, the sword lying on the ground flew in front of him.

“It’s too ugly, I don’t want it,” Xie Huanxiang said, tugging at Meng Zeshu’s sleeve, pouting. “Second senior brother, you take it.”

As if hearing the young man’s disdain, the rust-covered long sword shook off its rust, transformed, and forcibly turned into a delicate little dagger.

On the dagger was engraved a line:

Huanxiang’s Precious Blade.

Xie Huanxiang stared blankly at the ruby glowing on the dagger.

Inside the gem, a voice seemed to be tempting him.

Take it.

Take it, and you won’t mess up your beautiful fox claws when you scratch people in the future.

The young man’s fingers, gripping the man’s sleeve, were slender and long, with nails glowing a faint pink in the sunlight, their edges neatly trimmed by the demon in his dreams—definitely not suited for scratching.

Xie Huanxiang was reluctantly won over. He tentatively reached out and grabbed the dagger’s hilt.

He swung it casually a few times, and the sharp tip seemed to slice a gash in the wind blowing toward him.

“Pulling out a sword isn’t that hard—how come some people can only pull it out halfway and then get stuck?” Xie Huanxiang leaned in close to Meng Zejun, looking up at the man with a blink and an innocent smile. “Third senior brother, don’t you think so?”

“...”

Meng Zejun stiffened his neck and stepped back a few paces, his wheat-colored skin turning red. He gritted his teeth and glared at the young man.

Why was he smiling so flirtatiously? Who was he trying to seduce?

“Why are you getting so close? I hate queers the most—don’t pull that on me!”

Queers? What was that?

The little fox spirit’s eyes flickered with confusion for a moment, but that didn’t stop him from getting back at the man for his meanness.

“So senior brother hates queers, huh?” Xie Huanxiang leaned in close to the man’s ear and whispered, “I am one.”

So hurry up and leave the mountain to go travel.

“...”

It wasn’t until the young man, humming a tune and pocketing the divine sword that had chosen him, walked away surrounded by the crowd of cultivators, that Meng Zejun suddenly snapped back to reality.

What did that mean?

Why did that little fox spirit tell him he was a queer?

Could it be that he actually liked him?

“Hey,” Meng Zejun said with a sour face, approaching Meng Zeshu, and asked offhandedly, “Did you know your little junior brother is a queer?”

Meng Zeshu gave him an indifferent glance. “What are you getting at?”

“Nothing,” Meng Zejun said distractedly, straightening his sleeves. “You wouldn’t get it anyway.”

Meng Zeshu couldn’t be bothered to deal with him.

Now that the divine sword had chosen a master, he needed to find another artifact with a tough enough personality to use as the tool for the cultivation assessment.

...

Today was the night of the full moon.

Every full moon, Xie Huanxiang would secretly climb the bodhi tree outside the small wooden hut to bathe in the moonlight’s power.

That way, he could gather enough demonic energy to activate the demon clan’s communication artifact and send messages back.

Xie Huanxiang closed his eyes and recited the only incantation he had memorized by heart. Pink demonic energy slowly flowed from his fingertips into the Bright Mirror.

After a few moments, the Fox Chief’s kind smile appeared in the mirror.

“Xiangbao, how have you been lately?”

“Grandpa Chief,” Xie Huanxiang curved his lips and softly listed all the trouble he’d caused. Finally, he snorted, “Except for twisting my ankle sneaking into the Floating Tower, I’ve been so careful, no one’s figured out I’m a fox spirit!”

“You went to the Floating Tower?” In the mirror, the Fox Chief was urgently pushed aside by a man. “Didn’t I tell you the Floating Tower is dangerous? Stay away from that broken tower! Why did you sneak in?”

“The tower is full of demons—our kin. Why can’t I go?” Xie Huanxiang puffed out his cheeks in anger. “If you won’t help me find my brother, can’t I look for him myself?”

The man stared at him for a second, then leaned in and switched gears. “Why’re your lips so red? Who kissed you?”

Xie Huanxiang licked his lips and muttered, “Grandpa Chief, he’s so annoying. I don’t wanna talk to him anymore.”

“Alright, alright, we’ll ignore him, ignore him,” the Fox Chief said, grabbing the Ximing Mirror from the man’s hands. “Xiangbao, there are a lot of bad demons in the Floating Tower. Let’s not go there, okay? You’re the only good spy our demon clan has. If something happens to you, who’s left for us to count on?”

“Look at you—you’ve gotten so skinny from not eating enough.”

“Fine,” Xie Huanxiang rolled his eyes. He wasn’t really into it, but the Fox Chief’s sweet talk made him happy, so he agreed out loud. “I’ll listen to Grandpa Chief.”

The moon slid behind the clouds, cutting off the call.

Xie Huanxiang hugged the mirror and hopped down from the tree, rubbing his tired eyes, then went back to the cabin and crashed.

He had a nightmare.

In the dream, Meng Zejun grabbed his fox tail.

Just as the tail was about to be cut off, Xie Huanxiang jolted awake.

On the night of the full moon, he’d used up all his weak demon power on the call, and his tail couldn’t be hidden anymore.

The crow demon, who usually stood guard outside, hadn’t come back yet for some reason.

He hugged his tail tight, staring wide-eyed into the pitch-black room, sweating at the tip of his nose from the heat but too scared to kick off the blanket.

He feared that at any moment, someone might jump out from a corner to snatch his tail.

If only he could make others unable to see his tail.

Then he could groom its fur whenever he wanted, just like he did in the Cangshan Snowy Domain.

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