The Fox and the Red Bride
The fortune tellers had decreed that today was an auspicious day for a wedding. It was a windless winter day; not a single cloud covered the heavens and that night, the Magpie Bridge would be seen in all of its celestial beauty. It was the day that the Shepherd was to ascend the bridge and reunite with his lover, the Weaver, amongst the stars. It was a day for fated meetings.
For the merchant’s daughter, no day would ever be a good day for her wedding. Hong’s father was a wealthy merchant who owned a fleet of half a thousand trading ships that carried tea and spices to the West. However, this monsoon season had been full of storms, and half the ships that had sailed out did not return, their wares and crew probably floating amongst the fishes at the bottom of the ocean. The merchant owned most of the buildings in the town and was able to pay off most of what he owed with half. However, the tea plantation owner demanded the rest for his payment. The tea that had been lost on those ships was a rare and expensive variety that could only be harvested on a particular night during a particular phase of the moon. The merchant refused. Losing the properties would mean losing his power and status in the town. Instead, he offered up the hand of his only daughter.
Hong was the youngest daughter of three children. When she was born, a red peony petal had floated between her brows and a crimson flower’s mark had appeared there, thus she was named after the hue of that birthmark. Although she spent her childhood running through the woods and shooting down birds with her two older brothers, her skin was snowy white and her fingers were slim and soft. She was adored by all the servants for her kindness and all the nobles for her grace. On her sixteenth birthday, she caught the small, glinting eyes of the tea plantation owner. The lord never showed his face in the town, preferring the seclusion of his estate, but had seen Hong while meeting with her father. Through a window facing the inner gardens, he spied the fair maiden practicing her needlework under the fluttering petals of a plum blossom tree, her hair a waterfall of night sky that tumbled down her straight back. From that day onward, vases of plum blossom branches and boxes of flaky wife cakes were sent to Hong nearly every morning. Every night the blossoms wilted and the pastries were gobbled up by the stray dogs that begged outside the manor.
The merchant’s daughter had never met nor seen the lord of the tea plantation, but she had heard many rumors. Even now, as Hong sat before a gilded mirror in her wedding gown, those rumors dripped down to her ears like oil. A gaggle of servants flitted about, preparing her for the wedding procession. As a servant painted Hong’s lips a rosy red, they whispered to each other how the lord was older than her father and had married three times before, but each wife had died of miscarriage. As a servant slipped the crimson wedding veil over Hong’s pale face, they hissed over their shoulder that the lord was wealthy, but greedy and selfish. He was served a lavish feast every night, but would only allow his servants to eat the leftovers, which consisted of mere bones and the stringy parts of the meat. As a servant helped Hong into the palanquin and pulled the blood red curtains closed, they sighed about how the lord was as cruel and wicked as a snake. Once, in order to meet deadlines, he had forced all the farmers on his plantation to harvest tea nonstop for seven days and seven nights, through the blazing sun and chilling rain, without food nor water. By the time the palanquin bearers lifted her up and started down the path, Hong was awash in a cold sweat, her hands clutching the front of her scarlet gown, twisting the embroidered plum blossoms until they were just a mess of white and pink.
The path to the tea plantation was a long one, and the entire time, Hong’s head was thrumming with ways to escape. She could not get far with her bound feet and heavy gown, especially with the thick snow blanketing the forest floor beyond the path. And even if she were able to flee into the thicket, it was known that monsters and wild beasts lurked in the shadows, including fox demons who ate human livers as a fine delicacy. So all she could do was to sit and try to steady her pounding heart.
Suddenly, a yelping noise reached Hong’s ears. It was the sound of an animal in pain and it tore at her gentle heart.
“Stop the palanquin!” Hong called, pounding on the walls with a balled fist. The other hand gripped the curtains, pulling it back so she could poke her head out. The palanquin kept swaying back and forth, the bearers steadily marching on.
The banner bearer turned his head and shouted, “I apologize, my lady, but we mustn’t stop! If we pause even for a second, we will not make it to—.”
Before he could finish his sentence, Hong had already hopped out of the palanquin and was dashing towards the sound, her slippered lotus feet sinking into the deep snow. The bare branches of bushes tore at the silk threads of the embroidered plum blossoms. The hem of her beautiful gown grew muddy and wet. By the time she reached the snowy meadow, she was a panting and sodden mess.
Illuminated by the setting sun, the fur of the fox glowed like fire as she struggled to bite through the rope of a hunter’s trap that hung from a tree. Spotting Hong, the fox’s ears flattened against her head and a low growl rumbled in her throat. Hong approached slowly, ignoring the distant shouting of people looking for her.
“Please, I just want to help you,” she said softly, hands outstretched, “I won’t hurt you, I swear it.”
Surprisingly, the fox’s ears flicked forward and she seemed to relax, swaying gently in the net as she watched Hong with wide yellow eyes. Hong’s deft fingers undid the intricate knots of the trap and slowly lowered the net to the ground. As the fox’s black paws met the bone white snow, she transformed into the most beautiful woman Hong had ever seen, with hair like autumn leaves and golden eyes that glittered with mischief. The distant shouts of the wedding procession faded into the howling of the wind as the woman tilted Hong’s chin up with a long finger. The finger ended in an onyx painted claw that drew a bead of blood from her neck. However, Hong did not flinch. Whatever fate the fox had for her was far better than the one that awaited for her at the end of the road.
“Why would you help a monster like me?” the fox demon asked, her voice softer than the powdery snow that dusted her fur lined robes, but not at all cold. Hong glimpsed a flash of sharp teeth through the fox’s blood red lips as her eyes steadily met those golden ones.
“You were trapped and hurt,” Hong declared, “No creature, be they a human or not, deserves to suffer like that.”
“Hm, what a strange human you are,” said the fox with a tilt of her head, “but I suppose I owe you for saving my life. Name anything, and I will make it yours.”
Hong did not hesitate, “Freedom. I do not wish to be married off to the cruel lord of the tea plantation. I would rather be eaten by wolves or by you!”
Upon hearing this rather bold declaration, the fox tossed her head back and laughed, “My, what spirited words! I see that this young maiden’s heart is both kind and fierce. Fear not, I only eat the livers of men, not those of sweet maidens such as you.”
“Then will you help me?” Hong pleaded, taking a step towards the fox, “Will you help me run away?”
“I will do much better than that,” the fox grinned, releasing the maiden’s chin and licking the spot of blood that she had drawn, “I will return to the wedding procession with you. When we arrive at the estate, tie a strand of your hair around my wrist and I will go meet the lord wearing your face. I will take care of everything.”
“Very well, then. I trust you with my freedom and my fate,” for although the fox demon made Hong nervous, her hand had been warm and her golden gaze strangely comforting.
Hong returned to the wedding procession with the fox demon, now back in her fox form, gently cradled in her arms. The servants could only shake their heads and mourn the loss of their tender hearted young lady. While in the palanquin, Hong tied a strand of her coal black hair around the fox’s slender foot, and with a flash of light, the fox had transformed into her. As the banner bearer announced the arrival of the merchant’s daughter, the Hong lowered the veil over the fox’s wicked smile.
The palanquin had been lowered in front of the courtyard entrance. Unlike those in the merchant’s manor, the servants in the lord’s estate were quiet and docile, lowering their heads and avoiding eye contact. A wizened servant woman with a hunched back led Hong to the receiving chamber where the lord wished to “examine the goods”. The lord of the tea plantations was as the rumors claimed him to be. His balding head, beady eyes, and cruel sneer made the fox’s lips twist up in disgust. He approached the fox, tucking his hands behind his back as he looked her up and down.
“My, what big feet you have,” the lord observed, squinting at her feet, which were unbound unlike Hong’s. Demonic magic was a fickle thing and transformations kept the person’s natural form.
“Why, the better to stand by my lord’s side and wait upon him,” the fox crooned, layering her words with sweet honey.
Happy with this answer, the lord chuckled and reached over, grasping her slender fingers in his cold and wrinkled hands. The fox fought the urge to claw his skin to shreds.
“My, what sharp and long nails you have,” the lord commented, a crease appearing between his brows. The strand of hair around the fox’s wrist was beginning to lose its power.
“Why, the better to peel and dig the pits out of fruits for my lord,” the fox assured, voice as melodious as a songbird’s.
Nodding, the lord eagerly reached up to lift the veil from her face. He paused as his eyes fell upon her blood red lips and the feral smile that bloomed upon them.
“My, what large and sharp teeth you have!”
“Why, the better to devour your liver!” The strand of hair around the fox’s wrist fell away as she lunged at the lord and tore out his liver, swallowing it in a single gulp. The lord had no time to shout for help. The servants behind the door remained ignorant of their lord’s death and the fox demon was able to drag his body behind a folding screen, placing it over a dark carpet so the blood would not flow out. She then licked the last bits of blood off her lips, transformed into the lord, and strode out to find her bride.
The wedding proceeded as planned that night and the servants mourned their new lady before she had even met her predecessors’ fates. However, after the wedding, the servants saw their lord less and less. Matters of the estate and the plantation were handed over to the new lady. The newlywed couple took all of their meals in private within their chambers. A week after the wedding, the lord left the estate quite suddenly, only accompanied by one servant who followed his horse by foot. That same servant returned the very next day, wide eyed and struggling to breathe. He gasped out that the lord had ridden ahead, but by the time he caught up, there was only the mangled corpse of his horse left.
Now a widow, Hong took over as the lady of the estate, much to the people’s delight. She was a capable and fair master who treated her servants well and straightened out the lord’s crooked bookkeeping. The tea plantation flourished and Lady Hong became very rich. However, she never remarried. Instead, she ate every meal and shared her chambers with a strange and beautiful woman with hair like autumn leaves and glittering gold eyes. Sometimes, she strode through the gardens accompanied by a crimson red fox with those same golden eyes.
~ The End ~
