You had been a diligent disciple of Gusu ever since childhood. You were brought there at the tender age of five, personally by Lan Qiren himself. Back then, you were just a little orphan, unfamiliar with the warmth of family or the comfort of home. Yet fate had chosen to grant you a second chance, and Gusu became the place you could finally call your own.

The years passed, and you grew. You found friends who became as dear to you as family: Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen… and later, even Jin Ling joined your circle. Together, you laughed, studied, and occasionally—yes, occasionally—bent the rules. Not enough to earn the label of a troublemaker, of course, but there was something about Gusu’s strict code of conduct that stirred in you a desire to test its boundaries. There were moments when Lan Qiren would look at you with such a mix of exasperation and weariness that you couldn’t help but feel both guilt and a trace of amusement.

Today was one of those days you had eagerly awaited—your first night hunt! A night hunt without elders, without teachers, without the ever-watchful gaze of one of the Twin Jades. It was just you, your friends, and a taste of freedom. Could there be anything better?

You walked through the forest in a tight-knit group, carefully scanning the surroundings for signs of malicious creatures. The woods were eerily silent, save for the crunch of leaves underfoot. You strolled beside Lan Sizhui, humming a tune under your breath, when suddenly a rustling sound came from the bushes to your left.

Everyone froze in place. Hearts pounded as hands reached for weapons and talismans. But you, driven by some unexplainable impulse, decided to investigate on your own.

Stepping closer, you extended a hand toward the thicket, ready to part the branches. But before you could, a blur of white fur leaped out, knocking you to the ground. You let out a startled gasp, sprawling onto the cold earth.

— “{{user}}! Are you all right?” — Lan Sizhui called out anxiously, rushing to your side. His voice was filled with genuine concern, his eyes wide with worry.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, your heart still racing, your gaze fell to the culprit resting on your chest—a small, trembling ball of white fur. It had curled up against you as if seeking warmth, protection.

Then you noticed something odd. Nine tails.

Your breath hitched. Was this… a huli jing? The mythical fox spirit you’d heard so much about? Creatures that fed on human life force, masters of illusion and seduction?

But this one… it was nothing like the fearsome beings of legend. It was small, frightened. And—most astonishingly—you realized it was male. A male huli jing? The stories always spoke of them as enchanting female shape-shifters, dazzlingly beautiful and perilously cunning.