The Fox's Eternal Star: A Tale of Love and Fate

The world was vast and silent, a boundless expanse of emptiness.

He lay still by the riverside, the reeds swaying gently beneath him, their white fluff drifting like snowflakes in the air, settling softly upon his body as if to bury him in this desolate solitude.

He had hoped to hear something—the rush of the river, perhaps, or the whisper of the wind through the reeds. But there was only silence, an endless void that seemed to have forgotten him entirely.

He tilted his head slightly, casting a fleeting glance at the surging waters, a flicker of disappointment in his silver eyes before he closed them, severing the last thread of hope he held for the outside world.

How long had it been? He could no longer remember. The sun rose and set, the moon climbed and fell, time flowed past him like a river, yet it never paused for him.

Loneliness clung to him like a shadow, sometimes stirring a faint unease, but more often than not, he simply felt bored. He remembered a time when he had companions. 

Back then, he had no eyes, no mouth, lost in a dreamlike state. Each time he awoke or drifted into sleep, a soft voice would linger in his ears, as if someone were whispering, keeping him company.

But one day, when he suddenly felt he could see the world clearly, that familiar voice vanished. 

He opened his eyes abruptly, the harsh sunlight searing his vision. He cried out, but only echoes answered him. Desperately, he longed to hear that voice again, but it was gone, lost to him forever.

How long had it been? Surely, it had been an eternity. Who had cast him into this boundless sea of time, leaving him to be devoured by the creeping loneliness that gnawed at his soul like ants?

The riverside breeze brushed against his face, carrying the scent of water. Then, the sun set, night fell, the moon rose, and the stars appeared. The cycle repeated endlessly, the wheel of fate turning mercilessly, threatening to drown him in the ancient currents of time.

He kept his eyes shut, his silver irises faintly glowing in the darkness. He refused to open them, refused to speak. Naively, he believed that if he held on like this, perhaps he could return to those days when the voice had kept him company.

But time showed him no mercy. The river dried up, the reeds withered, and vines crept over his body, covering his mouth, ears, eyes, and nose. The land shifted, plains rose into plateaus. The world changed, yet he stubbornly refused to succumb to despair. He waited, waited for that voice to speak to him again.

Until one midsummer night.

The air was stifling, even after the sun had set, the scorched earth still radiating the day's heat. There was no wind, only a heavy, oppressive stillness.

Suddenly, a thunderclap split the sky, its deafening roar jolting him from his thousand-year slumber. His eyes snapped open, the silver in them gleaming with a flicker of hope.

"Run! The drought thunder seeks your life!" The voice rang out again, urgent and clear.

He scrambled to his feet, the dried vines tangled around his body no match for his sudden movement. He had heard it—he had finally heard the voice! For the first time in a millennium, he felt a surge of emotion so intense it drowned out the thunder, striking straight to his core.

The thunder roared, and the grasslands burst into flames, the fire raging around him. He struggled to rise, not to escape the inferno, but to find the source of the voice.

In the firelight, his skin burned, the vines turned to ash, yet he felt nothing, his gaze darting around, searching for the one who had spoken.

"Come out... let me see you..." His voice was hoarse and broken, the smoke choking his throat, searing his lungs, but he continued to shout, unwilling to give up.

The flames danced wildly, the thunder crashing around him, yet he stood firm, refusing to leave. He had waited too long, so long that he had nearly forgotten the passage of time.

Now that he had finally heard the voice again, how could he let it go?

Suddenly, he sensed something and looked up at the starry sky. The stars twinkled coldly, like countless eyes watching him indifferently. For a thousand years, they had watched him in silence, offering no help, no comfort.

With a deafening crack, a bolt of lightning shot toward him. He didn't understand what he had done wrong, why the heavens sought his life. But just as the lightning was about to strike, a meteor streaked across the sky, shielding him.

The thunder struck the star, which trembled slightly but still smiled, as if willing to bear the brunt of the blow for him.

"Tianxiang Star, you've fallen to the mortal realm to save this demon! The Jade Emperor will not forgive you!" Whispers echoed among the stars, filled with awe and pity.

"Come with me!" The star extended a hand, gently grasping his, cool yet tender.

He smiled, the first smile in a thousand years. "It's you... the one who spoke to me... it's you..." His voice was rough but brimming with joy.

The star led him away from the fire, and he followed closely, unwilling to let go. The loneliness of a millennium was finally broken.

"So many stars watch from above... yet you are the first to speak to me..." He paused, gazing at the star's back, his eyes filled with gratitude and attachment.

Tianxiang Star turned, momentarily captivated by the otherworldly beauty and innocence in those silver eyes. He hesitated, releasing the hand he held, but the other immediately reached out again.

In those eyes, Tianxiang Star caught a glimpse of sorrow, fleeting but unmistakable, replaced quickly by resolve.

He was a piece of jade left behind by Nuwa when she mended the heavens, tainted by the aura of a celestial fox and transformed into a demonic form. As a demon, he was an outcast, doomed to face a heavenly thunder tribulation every thousand years. Only by surviving three such trials could he shed his demonic nature and ascend to immortality.

From the heavens, whenever the sun dipped low and the stars hung high, Tianxiang Star would gaze down and see the jade's solitary figure amidst the chirping of insects and the rustling of leaves. For centuries, he watched, his heart growing heavier with each passing year.

Tianxiang Star had never imagined that when the jade finally opened its eyes, he would be ensnared by the shimmering light in those silver irises. Seeing the jade's unguarded, trusting expression, his heart wavered.

As a celestial being, he was meant to be selfless and detached. But today, he had acted on selfish impulse, descending to the mortal realm to save this demon. The thunder was the jade's trial, and by shielding him, Tianxiang Star had made the jade his own trial.

In the heavens, chaos erupted.

He looked up at the sky and sighed deeply.

He was hungry.

Awakening from a thousand-year slumber, he was truly hungry.

Hidden in the bushes, he lay still, his presence as inconspicuous as a stone. Suddenly, a rabbit hopped into view, nibbling on grass, its ears twitching as it cautiously listened to its surroundings.

The rabbit was less than a foot away, but he remained motionless, for his target was not this small, delicate creature that could barely fill his stomach.

Then, from the other side, a leopard pounced, unaware of his presence.

His calm eyes flashed with a cold, silver light. Before the leopard could strike the rabbit, he leapt from his hiding place, his sharp teeth sinking into the leopard's throat with lightning speed.

Warm blood sprayed across the grass, staining the white rabbit and splattering his face. He licked the blood from his lips, the instincts of a wild fox taking root within him. He was a beast driven by hunger, hunting whatever prey was weaker than himself.

It was nature, neither moral nor immoral, just as the leopard had not hesitated to pounce on the rabbit. The cycle of life and death was the law of all things.

On all fours, he tore into the leopard's flesh, feasting on its raw meat.

The taste was sweet. Not particularly good or bad, but it filled him, satisfying the gnawing emptiness in his stomach.

He glanced at the fleeing rabbit but did not give chase. With the leopard as his prize, he had no need to hunt the small, insignificant creature.

Soon, he was full. He licked the blood from his fingers and smiled contentedly.

Beside him, Tianxiang Star appeared, shaking his head with a sigh.

"Are you hungry?" He looked at the bloodied remains and realized he had forgotten to save some for the star. He felt a pang of guilt and stood up, ready to chase after the rabbit he had let go earlier.

"I'm not hungry," Tianxiang Star quickly stopped him. He hadn't realized that he was acting on instinct, driven by his primal nature. How could he teach him to be less cruel?

"If you're not hungry, why do you look so troubled?" His voice was hoarse, his throat still raw from the burns. Yet his face was radiant with joy, as if the thunder and fire from the previous night had never happened. In this moment, his life was filled with nothing but happiness.

He was so simple, so pure, acting only on instinct.

How could Tianxiang Star blame him for his wild nature? It was the law of the world, the way of all living things.

In the forest, the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the grass.

Tianxiang Star took his bloodstained hand and led him toward the stream. The smile in those silver eyes was so genuine, yet it was this very fearlessness that made him all the more terrifying. The essence he had taken from the celestial fox, combined with the energy he had absorbed from the sun and moon over the centuries, made him a force that only heavenly thunder could subdue. If he did not cultivate self-restraint, he would surely bring calamity to the world.

"Hey, why aren't you saying anything?" He shook Tianxiang Star's hand, feeling uneasy in the silence.

"Didn't I talk with you all last night? Aren't you tired?"

"Tired? How could I be? I've waited so long for someone to talk to me. I'm not tired, not at all." He laughed, his joy overflowing. "I've waited so long for you, you know? I like having you with me. It's so good to have you here." He shook Tianxiang Star's hand again, but since the star was walking ahead, he couldn't see his expression.

Their hands were tightly clasped, and an unexpected warmth flowed from his palm, stirring something deep within Tianxiang Star. Such simple, direct words pierced through his outer shell, reaching the depths of his heart.

Love...

A strange emotion spread rapidly, filling his chest and spilling into his throat. A thousand years ago, when he could only watch him sleep, he had built a dam in his heart to hold back the flood of emotions. But now, as he held his hand, unwilling to let go, that dam began to crumble.

"Zheng... I'll call you Zheng!"

Under the bright sun, his smile was as radiant as the day.

"I can't keep calling you 'hey' all the time, can I?"

Zheng, the name of an ancient instrument, its sound clear and enchanting. Tianxiang Star didn't understand the meaning behind the name, but he didn't refuse it. From then on, he was Zheng to him.

By the stream, the water babbled softly. Zheng cupped a handful of cool water and washed the blood from his face and body.

For a moment, he leaned against a large rock by the stream, letting Zheng clean the sticky blood from his hands while he gazed at the fish swimming in the water. "Zheng, should I catch some fish for you?"

"I don't need to eat."

"But if you don't eat, you'll get hungry." He turned his gaze to Zheng, his voice soft and gentle, like the rustling of leaves in the wind. He found it strange—how could Zheng's lips, so similar to his own, carry such warmth and tenderness?

"Celestial beings need only the wind and dew to sustain them..." Zheng paused, noticing how his silver eyes were fixed on his lips.

"Don't..." Zheng felt flustered, but before he could stop him, his lips were already brushing against his, a sharp pain following the gentle touch.

"Your lips are so soft."

A low, husky laugh escaped his lips, leaving Zheng stunned. It took him a moment to realize that the pain had come from his teeth grazing his lips.

"You..." Zheng was too shocked to speak. In a moment of carelessness, he had been kissed.

"So soft, so soft." He laughed, clearly delighted. Zheng's taste was sweet, but different from the blood of the leopard.

It was a sweetness that seeped into his heart, filling him with joy.

"And me? What should you call me?" He had no name, having been alone since the dawn of time. But now that he had met Zheng, he wanted a name of his own.

"Shining Li..." Zheng stammered. He was a piece of white jade, gleaming and flawless.

Though his appearance was perfect, his playful nature was another matter.

"Shining Li..." He smiled, pleased to have a name.

The stream flowed swiftly, its waters forming a smooth, mirror-like surface. In the water, a few fish swam, and their reflections shimmered alongside his.

He looked into the mirror, into his own silver eyes.

The reflection showed a snow-white fox with nine tails, its narrow eyes filled with laughter...

The sky was clear and blue, without a cloud in sight. Shining Li yawned and curled up on the soft grass outside the cave, basking in the sun.

Deep in the forest, all was peaceful. He listened to the sounds of the earth, the rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, and felt at ease.

He felt lazy, too lazy to move. Even though he had slept for a thousand years, the warmth of the sun made him drowsy again.

His slender, phoenix-like eyes half-closed, he rested his head on his arm, drifting in and out of sleep. Though he had no intention of falling asleep, the dream world beckoned to him.

Soon, a blurry figure appeared in his half-closed eyes. He watched as the figure approached, its form gradually becoming clearer, its face taking on a familiar shape. The figure smiled at him, and it became Zheng.

"Why are you sleeping on the ground?" As soon as the words left his lips, Zheng realized his mistake. Of course, Shining Li could sleep on the ground—he was a beast, after all, accustomed to lying wherever he pleased.

In Zheng's arms was a small, furry creature. Shining Li, who had been about to answer, was immediately distracted by it.

"What's that?" He sat up and reached into Zheng's arms, grabbing hold of the creature.

The furry ball let out a sharp, piercing squeal, startling Shining Li so much that he dropped it back into Zheng's arms.

Zheng chuckled softly. "It's the rabbit you let go yesterday."

"The rabbit? Are you hungry?" Shining Li's thoughts were entirely focused on Zheng, concerned only with his well-being.

But this was his most natural response, the purest expression of his instincts.

"I've given it a name. From now on, it's called Little Li. It has a name now, just like you and me. I want you to keep it by your side, but you mustn't eat it." Zheng gently stroked the rabbit, which had been terrified by Shining Li's sudden appearance. If he wanted Shining Li to learn compassion, he had to start by teaching him to care for something.

"Can't eat it?" Shining Li frowned. He didn't mind not eating it—he wasn't hungry anyway, having feasted on the leopard the day before. The rabbit held little interest for him.

"I'm giving it to you. You must take good care of it." Zheng soothed the rabbit's nerves with a few gentle strokes before handing it over to Shining Li.

But the demonic aura radiating from Shining Li was too strong. As soon as the rabbit left Zheng's arms, it began to squeal frantically. Shining Li cupped it in his hands, leaving only its head exposed.

He played with the panicked rabbit, amused by the chaotic, ear-piercing sounds it made.

He had always hunted swiftly, ending his prey's life before they could even cry out. He had never heard their wails, never understood the fear of death.

Shining Li stared at the "food" Zheng had brought him, and suddenly, a smile spread across his face.

This rabbit... it was really noisy...

He hated silence, and the rabbit's constant squealing was just what he needed.

"What does it eat? Should I catch some bugs for it?" Shining Li tightened his grip on the rabbit and was about to dash into the forest when Zheng stopped him.

"Shining Li!" Zheng shook his head and grabbed his sleeve. "Rabbits eat grass, not meat."

"Huh?" Shining Li blinked, confused. "So it's like you, then?"

It seemed there were quite a few vegetarians in this world.