(In Xian tian)

  [4 am - cold]

  Early morning light filters through dense canopy overhead—dappling the forest floor with flickering patches of sun. Small animals dart through underbrush, foraging for food. In the distance, birds call to each other in melodic trills.

  Closer to the ground, a line of peasants file into the forest, axes and gathering baskets in hand. These are poor but honest workers, making a small living by selling firewood to wealthy merchants in the city. They move quietly through forest, chattering idly to each other in hushed tones.

  The girl stumbles back with a sharp gasp, her foot catching on something—

  "Ah! W-What is this?!"

  Her friends whip around in alarm—only to let out shrieks of their own as they spot the same thing: a body half-buried under fallen leaves. A man's lifeless form, his face pale and twisted in death.

  Panic erupts instantly among the group: "Monsters! There are monsters here!" "Run! RUN NOW!!" They scramble over each other like spooked deer, trampling through bushes while screams echo into woods beyond.

  Another group of workers hears the screams and hurries over, armed with axes and torches. They crowd around the body, trying to lift it up and see the man's face.

  "By all the seven gods..." One of them mutters, voice cracking, "It's a man in a fox mask?!"

  The others murmur nervously in agreement, crossing themselves to ward off evil. They stare down at the unmoving figure, wide-eyed and fearful. One even spits on the ground to deter any lingering spirits.

  A big-bellied man steps closer, his voice gruff as he pokes the mask with a knife: "You think he's a demon?"

  Wang Lee's body jerks violently as he suddenly lurches upright—startling the men so badly that one drops his torch and another stumbles back with a strangled cry. His movements are stiff, unnatural—like a puppet yanked to life by invisible strings.

  "D-Demons! He's alive!!" one worker shrieks, scrambling away in terror while others freeze in place like deer caught in firelight.

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  The big-bellied man recovers first: "You there!" he barks at Wang Lee,* "Who sent you? Answer quick or we'll cut your head off right here."

  Wang Lee's voice is rough, barely above a whisper as he rasps the words:

  "Xian Tian..." A slow breath escapes him—almost like relief. "Finally."

  The men exchange uneasy glances. One steps forward cautiously, axe raised but not yet striking. "Who are you? What do you want here?"

  Wang Lee takes a single step forward... and promptly stumbles, almost collapsing face-first into the mud. The workers startle backwards with cries of fright. The big-bellied man raises his axe higher: "Get back, you monster!"

  Wang Lee tries to steady himself, gripping a tree for support. He's clearly exhausted, but somehow manages to stay on his feet—if just barely.

  Wang Lee lifts his head—slowly, deliberately. His voice is low and rough, but laced with something darkly amused:

  "Yes." He tilts his chin toward the big-bellied man, "I am a demon. And if you do not feed me this very second... I will burn your crops to ash and let your livestock starve in their pens."

  A hush falls over the group—their faces paling as they realize he isn't bluffing.

  The big-bellied man swallows hard, eyes flicking between Wang Lee and the axe in his own trembling hand. For a brief moment, anger flashes across his expression—a burst of defiance against the creature threatening his livelihood.

  But then he seems to deflate, shoulders slumping in reluctant defeat. He lets the axe drop, his voice heavy with resignation. "Fine."

  The other workers exchange anxious glances, but none dare to protest. They're clearly terrified of what this demon might do if they don't cooperate

  Wang Lee's eyes narrow as he takes in their silent surrender—there's something almost amused in his gaze, a cruel satisfaction at their fear. "And warm water," he adds, "And cloths too."

  The big-bellied man clenches his jaw but nods curtly. The rest of the workers look like they want to protest, but they keep their silence—fear gnawing at their stomachs like starving dogs.

  Wang Lee sinks into the hot spring, letting out a sharp hiss as the water surrounds him. Cuts and bruises litter his body, some fresh and bleeding while others are already healing into ugly, red scars.

  He closes his eyes, head falling back against the smooth rocks. Pain pulses through him in sharp bursts, his whole body trembling with tension—but slowly, slowly, the warm water seems to take the edge off. He lets out a long, shaky exhale—almost a sigh of relief.

  Wang Lee opens his eyes, holding up a delicate black fan with the image of a sly fox painted on its surface. It's a beautiful, intricate piece—but the moment he fans it open, something seems to awaken.

  Dark energy crackles from the fan, swirling with an eerie pulse that fills the cavern like silent thunder. The fox painted on the fan shudders, as if straining against its paper prison—and a cold, almost malevolent presence fills the air around Wang Lee.

  Wang Lee holds up the fan, a hint of irritation in his voice as he addresses the fox spirit trapped within.

  "Yinzi, isn't it?" he says, almost like he's chiding a willful child.

  The fox seems to bristle at the name, its form shifting in the fan's painted design as it glares at him.

  "My name is Wumei!" it snarls through clenched jaws, "And you locked me in this stupid fan for years!!"

  Wang Lee rolls his eyes at the fox's outburst. "Oh, come on. It hasn't been that long."

  The fox makes a strangled noise, its form almost quivering with frustration. "You call being trapped inside a fan for decades 'not that long!?'"

  Yinzi's energy pulses in a sharp, mocking burst—almost like laughter. "Oh? So the royal prince didn't betray you?"

  Wang Lee's grip tightens slightly on the fan. His voice is quiet but firm: "He didn't."

  Yinzi's dark energy coils tighter, a mocking edge to its voice: "So he didn't betray you—he just let his guards drag you in chains while sipping tea with the emperor. How noble of him."

  A muscle jumps in Wang Lee's jaw as he resists snapping back. "He had no choice," he mutters through clenched teeth, "...and I never asked for one."

  Yinzi's energy pulses with a dark amusement. "Ah yes, trust. Poor you indeed."

  Wang Lee bristles at the mocking tone. "I did not trust him," he snaps back fiercely. "And it's none of your concern."

  Yinzi's energy twists, almost like a smirk. "Oh, I know, I can feel everything."

  Wang Lee glares, holding tight to control despite the fox's taunting. "Stop prying into my thoughts."

  Yinzi's dark energy ripples with something like frustration. And he say -