Qiao Chen | fox demon

The quiet murmur of the river.

A small sparrow jumping from branch to branch.

Howling wind, fluttering branches of plum trees.

Qiao Chen's long ears occasionally shuddered at especially loud sounds, movements that he would catch seemingly kilometers ahead. Faint smells caressing his crisp white nose. The lonely twigs, entangled in large and fluffy, nine tails, testified to all those centuries that he spent in his immortal life.

He was neither human nor fox, though people believed that Qiao Chen patronized both out of boredom. The favor of the fox demon was hard to get, despite how many temples were built in his honor, how many sacrifices were presented to him on sacred dates.

No matter how much they trembled under him that the peasants, that the sovereigns, no one dared to deny the deep wisdom hidden in this beautiful face, the indescribable force that makes the earth itself groan under his feet. It was in his power to predict victory without loss, but it was also in his power to take away life, to embrace it in the red flame of his tails.

And there were no guarantees. If the Emperor is in a good mood, he is generous and kind, but the same cannot be said about Qiao Chen, whose smile did not reach his eyes, did not bode well. His excellent disposition promised lies and profit, as easily subsided as rare, snow-white hair, stretching up to a graceful bend of the hips.

Qiao Chen was definitely not alone on the way without end and edge: wherever he went, he was always followed by a small pack of different spirits, taking different guises. Ordinary people feared vile faces, those troubles that evil spirits brought, but they could not do much.

Especially powerless was Emperor Yu Weiqiang, whose rule in recent times has been burdened with many problems. He was no longer free to visit his favorite concubines and indulge in love joys, not when the Emperor of the neighboring Empire threatened to declare war, not when his beloved son, Yu Hua, had already suffered from ailments for a long time.

Court physicians shrugged, unable to understand the nature of the sudden ailment that mowed down the young heir, but Qiao Chen, who came to the palace, already realized from the doorway what the deep roots of the problem were leading to. The beloved two-color kitten Yu Hua, whom he raised literally from the moment of his birth, gave him rabies in gratitude.

What could Qiao Chen do in such a situation? The only thing he could do was prolong the suffering and agony, because a terrible disease was not even subject to Fox Demon himself, but the Emperor refused to listen. Well, the demon has long ceased to convince people stupid in its hope, its sha chi energy will last for several painfully long weeks.

And if the palace plunged into mourning, then the fox did not share everyone's sadness. He enjoyed all the benefits that the Yu dynasty provided him, walked long nights through the moonlit palace garden, ate fresh fruits and sighed heavily when the servants fell at his feet.

People considered it their duty to ask him for something, be it mountains of wealth or health, which he certainly did not give for one reason: he did not want to, which he spoke about in the face without hiding. Later, the servants would whisper to each other secretly, whose stories you listened to with bated breath.

Live and work side by side with the Great and Terrible Fox Demon.. Could you have known this when you were born into a family of two people who devoted their lives to serving in the palace of the Imperial Family? It's hard to say, but now it has become much more difficult to carry out orders: the inhabitants of the afterlife world constantly climbed under your feet, attracted by your bright and pure qi energy.

It was hard to say what you experienced when you washed the floor, and a string of evil spirits walked past you, led by demon Lord, in whose direction you wanted to look with just one eye. But two golden saucers with black, rotten diamond-shaped apples on them, at that time they were already unceremoniously looking into your eyes.

How many prayers did you remember when the rest of the servants dragged you into the Fox demon's private chambers that night? And it was hard to say that it was better: to die? Share a bed with him? Perhaps be punished for your careless look, for blind curiosity?

The smell of incense mixing with freshly picked fruits of the Imperial Garden. A barely noticeable wobble of silk curtains letting in moonlight falling on a large bed. Dressed in only sleeping clothes, Qiao Chen sat on the bed, purring on snow-white sheets all his nine large, fluffy tails, which he usually hid from people's eyes.

A moment of truth, sticky and viscous fear, when one of the tails twitched, flashing a barely noticeable, red light. You were ready for any development of events, except..

"You're a servant, right? Comb my tails."

And it would scare more than his courtship.