A merchant of the southern region traded abroad, and his wife lived alone at home. One night she dreamed she lay with a man, and waking, felt him—it was a small-statured man. Observing that his manner was unlike a man's, she knew it for a fox. Before long he got down from the bed and was gone, though the door had not opened. At nightfall she invited an old woman-cook to stay with her. She had a son of ten, who usually slept on a separate couch, and she called him in too. When the night was deep and the old woman and the boy both slept, the fox came again, and the wife murmured as if in a dream. The old woman, waking, called out, and the fox went away. From then on the woman's spirits flagged as if she had lost something. At night she dared not put out the candle and charged her son not to sleep too soundly. When the night was far gone, the boy and the old woman leaned against the wall and dozed; waking, they found the woman gone. They thought she had gone out to relieve herself, but when she did not come back for a long while, they grew suspicious. The old woman was afraid and would not go seek her. The boy took a torch and shone it everywhere, until in another room he found his mother lying naked. He went to help her up, and she showed neither shame nor shrinking. From then on she was mad, singing, weeping, cursing in a thousand ways each day. At night she hated to be near anyone and slept on another couch, sending away both her son and the old woman. Whenever the boy heard his mother laugh or talk, he would light a lamp and look. His mother would fly into a rage and scold him, but he paid no heed, and so they all called him brave. Yet he played without restraint, and day after day, like a mason, he piled bricks and stones upon the windows; when stopped he would not listen. If one stone were removed, he would roll on the ground with affected cries of grief, so that no one dared touch or vex him. After several days both windows were stopped up so that not a ray came in; then he mixed mud and stopped up the holes in the walls, toiling busily all day without sparing himself. When he had finished, having nothing else to do, he took the kitchen knife and whetted it with a rasping sound. All who saw him hated his perversity and did not count him as a child of reason. At midnight the boy hid the knife in his bosom and covered the lamp with a gourd, and when he heard his mother muttering in her sleep, he quickly uncovered the lamp, barred the door, and shouted aloud. For a long while nothing came; then he left the door and, raising his voice, pretended to search about. Suddenly something like a wildcat darted at the crack of the door. He struck at it quickly and cut off only its tail, about two inches long, with wet blood still dripping. At first, when he had uncovered the lamp and risen, his mother had cursed him, but the boy acted as if he did not hear. Having missed his blow, he went to bed in vexation, thinking that though he had not killed it, he might hope it would not come again. At dawn he saw a trail of blood leading over the wall. Following it, it entered the He family's garden. That night the fox indeed did not come, and the boy was secretly glad; but his mother lay in a daze, as if dead.
Before long the merchant returned and came to the bedside to ask after her. His wife reviled him and looked upon him as an enemy. The boy told him what had happened, and the father, alarmed, called in a doctor and gave her medicine, at which she cursed and scolded. He slipped the medicine secretly into her soup and water, and after a few days she grew calmer. Both father and son rejoiced. But one night they woke to find the woman gone, and found her again in another room. From then on she was mad again and would not share her husband's room; toward evening she would run off to another chamber. When held back, she cursed the more. The father was at his wits' end; he barred all the other doors, but when she ran at them, they opened of themselves. He tried every exorcism and rite, but none availed in the least.
One evening at dusk the boy slipped into the He family's garden and lay hidden in the undergrowth, to spy out where the fox was. The moon had just risen when he heard voices. He pushed aside the bushes and saw two men coming to drink, with a long-whiskered servant carrying the wine-flask, dressed in an old russet robe. Their talk was low and indistinct. After a while he heard one say, "Tomorrow you may bring a jar of white wine." Then they went away together, leaving only the long-whiskered one, who took off his clothes and lay down on a rock. Looking at him closely, the boy saw his four limbs like a man's, but a tail hanging behind. The boy wanted to go home but feared the fox would notice, so he lay hid all night. Before dawn he heard the two come back one after another, murmuring into the bamboo thicket. Then the boy went home. His father asked where he had been, and he answered, "I slept at Uncle's house." He happened to go with his father into the market and saw a fox-tail hanging in a hat shop; he begged his father to buy it. His father paid no attention, but the boy, clinging to his father's clothes and coaxing him with pettish cries, would not be denied, so his father bought it. While his father traded in the stalls, the boy played beside him, and taking advantage of his father's looking away, stole some money and went to buy white wine, which he left at a shop's veranda. He had a maternal uncle who lived in the city and was a hunter by trade; the boy ran to his house. The uncle was out. His aunt asked after his mother's illness, and he answered, "She has been somewhat better of late. But again a rat gnawed her clothes, and she wept and fretted without ceasing, so she sent me to beg some hunting poison." His aunt searched the chest, brought out a small packet, and gave it to the boy. He thought it too little. His aunt would have made him some cakes, but the boy, seeing no one in the room, opened the packet himself, took a good handful, and hid it in his bosom. Then he hurried to tell his aunt not to light the fire, "for my father is waiting in the market and I have no time to eat." So he went, and secretly put the poison in the wine, then roamed about the town till dusk before he came home. His father asked where he had been, and he said he had been at his uncle's.
From that day the boy loitered daily about the market. One day he saw the long-whiskered one among the crowd. Making sure of him, he secretly followed. Gradually he fell into talk with him and asked where he lived; the other answered, "North village." He asked the boy in turn, who lied, "A mountain cave." The long-whiskered one was surprised at his living in a cave. The boy laughed, "I have always lived in a cave-palace—do you not?" The man was the more startled and asked his name. The boy said, "I am a son of the Hu family. Did I not see you once at such a place, following those two brothers—have you forgotten?" The man eyed him closely, half believing, half doubting. The boy opened his lower garment a little and showed the false tail, saying, "We of our kind mingle among men, but this thing still remains—that is the hate of it." The man asked, "What are you doing in the market?" "My father sent me to buy wine," said the boy. The man said he too had come to buy. The boy asked, "Have you bought it?" The man said, "We are mostly poor, so I often steal more than I buy." The boy said, "This errand is hard enough, with all its fears." "I am sent by my master and must needs do it," said the man. Asked who his master was, he answered, "The two brothers you saw before. One is having an affair with the wife of the Wang family in the northern suburb, the other sleeps at an old man's house in the east village. The old man's son is a terrible lad; he cut off a tail, and it was ten days in healing—and now the fox has gone back again." So saying he was about to part, adding, "Do not hinder me in my business." The boy said, "Stealing is harder than buying. I have bought wine and left it at a shop's veranda—I give it to you freely. I have money left in my pouch, and need not worry about buying more." The man was ashamed to have nothing in return. The boy said, "We are of one kind; why grudge a trifle? At leisure I shall drink deep with you yet." So they went together, and the boy gave him the wine, then went home.
That night his mother slept quietly and did not run away. The boy knew something was amiss and told his father, who went with him to examine the garden—there lay two foxes dead upon the pavilion and one dead in the grass, its mouth still wet with blood. The wine-bottle was still there; he took it up and shook it—it was not empty. His father asked in alarm, "Why did you not tell me sooner?" The boy said, "These creatures are most knowing; had I spoken, they would have learned of it." His father was delighted. "My son," he cried, "is a Chen Ping against foxes!" So father and son carried the foxes home, and found one with half its tail gone, the knife-mark plain upon it. From then on all was quiet. The woman, wasted to a shadow, gradually grew clear of mind, but was troubled by a cough and spat up several pints of phlegm, from which in time she recovered. The wife of the Wang family in the northern suburb had long been haunted by the fox; when asked now, it was found that the fox was gone and her illness cured too. The father, thinking his son wonderful from this, taught him riding and archery, and he later rose to be a commander-in-chief.