Huaxia has nine provinces.
The greatest sacred mountain beneath heaven, Mount Tai, lies at the junction of Yanzhou, Qingzhou, and Xuzhou.
From halfway up the mountain down to its foot stretches a village inhabited by over a thousand households surnamed Gong, who call themselves descendants of Gonggong, the Water God.
Gong Fengwu lived there.
In the middle of the night, Gong Fengwu curled up in a corner, his stomach rumbling with hunger. He had no idea where the little fox had gone.
Half asleep, he caught the smell of roasted meat and opened his eyes. A roast chicken lay on the ground. He reached out and touched it. It was ice-cold.
Wait, there was also a string of copper coins on the ground, gleaming faintly in the night.
The little fox was curled up asleep in his arms.
By moonlight, he took a closer look at the roast chicken. Tiny teeth marks covered one of its drumsticks.
He grabbed the little fox by the scruff and asked, “Little Gray, did you steal this?”
The little fox blinked. Gong Fengwu declared righteously:
“Those with ambition don't drink from the Spring of Stolen Water, and the honorable don't eat food given in contempt. Hurry up and return it.”
The little fox bared its tiny teeth and yipped a few times, seemingly in protest.
It jumped to the ground, tore off a piece of chicken with its mouth, narrowed its eyes as it chewed, then slowly swallowed.
That look, that delicious smell: Gong Fengwu couldn't help drooling.
Even smelling it counted as “stealing.” He felt ashamed.
If it was stealing anyway, he might as well go all the way.
As he wrestled with himself, his hand unconsciously reached for the drumstick, only for the little fox to slap it away with a paw...
