Chapter 10: The Swarm of Mice, A Good Story

Fox Society was indeed a fateful opportunity, and Ji Ming deeply felt he should not let it slip by. Yet, with the meager knowledge he possessed, he truly doubted he could catch the eye of Old Master Hu. Thus, his only chance was to shift from passive to active, to compel the old master to accept him of his own accord—perhaps even bend the rules and recruit him as an exception.

But for this, he needed a story—a story that could move the heart.

Just as in his previous life, when he had sought to change his circumstances by embodying the filial piety of “Deer’s Milk for Parents” from the Twenty-Four Exemplars of Filial Devotion, so now he wished to assign himself value through a tale.

Yet, unlike people in his former life, among these mountain spirits, the standard for a good story was no longer filial piety above all.

What the measure was, specifically, Ji Ming had no way of knowing.

But from the scant information he possessed, he surmised that Old Master Hu’s standards must be either literary talent or character.

“Rat Four!” Ji Ming called out, having conceived a plan. When Rat Four arrived, Ji Ming whispered at length to him.

“Those rats are shortsighted and greedy; a little sweetness is all it takes to send them wherever you wish. Leave this matter to me,” Rat Four assured him.

Upon returning to the study, Rat Four’s first action was to report to the old master that the flying spirit had declined the invitation.

Old Master Hu was not surprised by this, nor did he dwell on it, continuing his instruction to the young foxes in reading and reason.

Later, when the lesson ended, the fox students broke off in small groups, frolicking and revealing their wild nature, much to the old master’s displeasure. He departed in irritation.

Rat Four gathered three or five rat servants into a corner outside.

He quietly produced a small birdseed jar with a round belly and narrow mouth, lifting the lid just a crack, and at once a fragrance of honey wafted out.

These rat servants, who usually only sipped leftover tea and scraps, could not resist such sweetness; their mouths watered uncontrollably.

“It must have come from that flying spirit,” said one clever rat, guessing the honey’s source at once.

This startled Rat Four, who feared the scheme involving Black Pinecone had been discovered.

“Careful with the honey jar, Rat Four!”

“Ah, don’t drop it—let me help you hold it!”

“Rat Four, hold it steady, don’t frighten us so! I haven’t tasted honey in years.”

The greedy rats chattered one after another.

Their little eyes were glued to the jar, unable to look away.

As Rat Four fretted, the clever rat twitched his pointed nose, already wholly intoxicated by the scent.

“Honey such as this is only ever found in wild hives beyond the cliff,” he said. “Without strong wings and speed, no creature could fetch so much honey from there.”

Hearing this, Rat Four finally relaxed.

He thought to himself: mere rat spirits, enjoying the privileges of Fox Society, barely literate in human speech—how could they see through Black Pinecone’s clever plan?

He wondered, too, why he cared so much about Black Pinecone’s affairs, when they’d barely met.

Unable to find an answer, he pressed on with the plan.

“What a disagreeable name, ‘flying spirit,’” he remarked, inviting the rats to each take a sample.

“You don’t know, but that spirit’s real name is ‘Black Pinecone.’ We met by chance and now often play together in the mountains.”

The greedy rats, having tasted, only wanted more, eyeing Rat Four longingly and not hearing a word he said. This irked Rat Four enough to put the jar away.

“The honey belongs to Black Pinecone, kept with me. If you want more, you’ll have to go to the wild apricot tree at the foot of the grassy slope and ask him yourself.”

“How do we ask? Is there a ritual?” a rat inquired.

“No ritual—just sincerity,” Rat Four replied.

“Let’s go, all together!”

So three or five rat spirits followed Rat Four to the grassy slope, gathering under the great apricot tree.

Ji Ming stood in the branches, slowly spreading his wings to face the rats below.

“I... once... made a vow... to guide... the mountain spirits... and wild creatures. If you have a request... speak it... one by one.”

Ji Ming shook his bird’s head and spoke haltingly.

Among the rats, the clever one jumped up first, pointing at the honey jar and loudly making his request.

“Good!” Ji Ming nodded, unsurprised by the request.

He asked the others in turn, and as expected, each wished for the sweet honey.

As the rats pleaded in anticipation, Ji Ming took flight from the tree, swooping over the grassy slope.

Reaching the crest, he stretched down a claw and tore open a pile of dry grass, revealing jars and bottles hidden beneath.

The rats raced uphill, plunging their heads into the jars and feasting to their hearts’ content.

From his perch in the apricot tree, Ji Ming watched the satisfied rat spirits with pleasure, thinking that after today, Old Master Hu would surely hear his name again.

The next morning, at the Fox Society’s early lesson, the old master arrived as usual and called the roll in the study.

The fox students were all present, but only one or two rat servants appeared, and those looked listless.

Indeed, they seemed even more eager for the lesson to end than the foxes.

The old master summoned one rat and, after some questioning, learned what had happened—a flying spirit called Black Pinecone had been granting wishes to the mountain spirits.

“How strange!” the old master exclaimed, surprised, for nothing like this had occurred in the mountains for a long time. He called for Rat Four and questioned him further.

Upon hearing that the spirit had a heart for helping his kind, Old Master Hu openly praised him and asked, almost offhandedly, if he might be willing to serve as a reading companion to the young master.

This time, the position was elevated, from mere attendant to an official companion.

But after Rat Four came and went, the answer was still a refusal. On hearing this, the old master, for the first time, showed genuine regret.

His gaze swept the room, taking in all the fox students.

Though they studied the classics, their wild natures had not been tamed. As soon as lessons ended, their animal instincts reemerged. Realizing this, the old man’s eyes grew dim with weariness.

“To study requires good teachers and worthy companions. I am no great teacher, and it seems there are no worthy friends to be found here...”

...

That night, beneath the apricot tree, Rat Four hurried there after leaving Fox Society, but saw no sign of Black Pinecone.

He searched carefully, and at last spotted a gathering of large and small rats on the grassy slope, all bowing in reverence before Black Pinecone.

Among them were rats from the Fox Society, rats from the wild temple, rats from the village, and rats from the granaries. All, without exception, had gained spiritual awareness.

There were more than twenty in all.

Each rat exhaled a wisp of white vapor, which drifted upward and gathered in midair, strange and marvelous to behold.

“What is he gathering all these rats for?” Rat Four wondered, hiding in a patch of wildflowers, watching from the shadows.