Chapter 7: I Refuse to Be a Fox—I Will Be a Tiger
When Jin Qiyan was first selected as a guard and served by Wang Douxiang’s side for the first time, a few nobles came to pay their respects. In the eyes of ordinary people, such nobles were like deities. Yet that day, he witnessed those deities bowing their heads, beaming with smiles...
It was a kind of initiation, one that made him realize the formidable power of the Wang family and the reach of their influence. From then on, his loyalty to the Wang clan became unwavering.
He considered himself lucky to have become their guard. Yet the youth before him didn’t hesitate at all... Jin Qiyan swore that Yang Xuan, upon hearing his offer, took less than a heartbeat to look up and politely decline, hardly pausing to think.
Jin Qiyan was momentarily taken aback, while Old Huang’s face flushed, “Do you understand the prestige of the Wang family?”
Back in his village, Yang Xuan had thought of Chang’an as a place where immortals dwelled. Occasionally, someone would return from the county or from distant travels and boast of the wonders of Chang’an. From their tales, he gleaned vague knowledge of the Five Great Clans.
Whenever the Five Great Clans were mentioned, villagers would always look on in awe, much like ants gazing up at the gods—untouchable, wishing only to serve at their feet.
“I know,” Yang Xuan replied, his heart stirring before settling with resolve.
Jin Qiyan’s face remained cold, “Are you certain?”
Yang Xuan nodded.
Jin Qiyan sighed inwardly. He’d meant well, but this honest and simple youth had no idea how rare such an opportunity was. He could not press further, lest he appear petty, so he signaled to Old Huang and quietly withdrew.
Lowering his voice, Old Huang muttered, “This world doesn’t belong to the emperor alone, but to the Five Great Clans as well. To serve the Wang family is as honorable as serving beside the emperor himself. You could hold your head high wherever you went; if anyone dared trouble you, you’d only need utter the Wang family’s name...”
He thought anyone would leap at such good fortune, and Yang Xuan’s refusal must be due to ignorance of the honor bestowed upon a Wang family guard.
Thus, he snorted impatiently, waiting for Yang Xuan to come to his senses, so he could apologize on his behalf to Jin Qiyan.
Yang Xuan was grateful, but replied sincerely, “Thank you, but it’s really not necessary.”
This boy must be out of his mind! Old Huang looked back just as Jin Qiyan glanced over, and shook his head slightly.
Foolish to the extreme! Jin Qiyan sneered and went to report to Wang Douxiang.
“Let him be,” Wang Douxiang replied coolly. He was busy; had Yang Xuan not saved his niece, he likely never would have spared him a glance. Since he declined, so be it.
Outside, Old Huang felt Yang Xuan had abandoned a golden path in life, his anger making his liver ache.
Yang Xuan simply sat on the ground, watching the others light a campfire.
He had been tempted, knowing that joining the Wang family would mean a life free of worries—food, clothing, shelter, family, all under their protection.
Softly, the young man began, “The tiger hunts all beasts and catches a fox. The fox says: ‘You dare not eat me! Heaven has made me ruler of all beasts. If you eat me, you defy heaven’s will. If you doubt me, follow behind and see if any beast dares not flee at my presence.’”
This was a story from a scroll—brief, but memorable.
His voice was gentle, but his eyes shone brightly. “The tiger believed him, so followed. The beasts all fled at their approach. The tiger, not knowing it was himself they feared, thought they feared the fox.”
Not far away, beside a tent, Old Huang was speaking with Jin Qiyan. He glanced at Yang Xuan and shook his head, full of regret.
The youth sat straight-backed, his voice growing softer but more resolute, as though even gods could not sway him.
“I won’t be the fox. I want to be the tiger!”
Night fell.
Faint light lingered at the horizon, soon swallowed by the darkness. The stars hung dense in the sky, like grains of sand.
“It really looks like a river!” Old Huang gazed up at the Milky Way. “I feel moved to compose a poem.”
“You can write poetry?” Yang Xuan looked on expectantly.
Old Huang strained for a long while, then got up. “I’m going to relieve myself.”
Yang Xuan called after him, “It comes faster if you squat!”
Old Huang darted off.
Left alone, Yang Xuan stared up at the starry sky and thought of home.
How would Yang Ding react? Most likely with anger. And the Wang family? Surely they would hurl curses at him—call him a wretch, a cursed dog...
Their three sons—two nearly of marrying age, destined to farm for a living; the youngest, spoiled and unruly, would likely become a handful.
Still, with that tiger, the county magistrate might grant the Yangs certain favors, making their lives much easier.
Shouldn’t I hate them? So why do I feel relieved?
Yang Xuan was suddenly lost.
Yang Ding and his wife had taken him in for the money. Five hundred coins a month—a fortune in the village. Over the years, they’d saved more than enough to live well for a long time.
Three months after Yang Lue’s disappearance, the couple’s true colors showed. From then on, he was like a bitterweed in the field, or a dose of bitter medicine in the shop...
Did he hate them?
Thinking of those five years of hardship, Yang Xuan nodded, then shook his head.
He was no saint, but he couldn’t forget those years of shelter, even if only for the money. In those days, the Yangs had given him a home.
“Home.” Yang Xuan rubbed his face with his hands, and when he looked up again, sunlight seemed to break through his smile.
“Young men shouldn’t pretend to be so deep!” Old Huang, returning, couldn’t help but laugh at the boy’s feigned nonchalance and kicked him from behind. “Get ready for bed.”
Lying in the tent, surrounded by darkness with no stars in sight, Yang Xuan felt uneasy. He preferred the Milky Way for a quilt, the earth for a bed, falling asleep to the sounds of birds and beasts.
Old Huang lay down and whispered, “In the future, if you share a tent, keep your guard up. It’s just me tonight, but if it were a thief, your life would be forfeit.”
“Yes,” Yang Xuan replied, shifting his bedding to the side.
A thread was strung by his side, one end tied to his finger. He lay on his side, right hand gripping a dagger, ready to strike if startled.
Settling in, Yang Xuan closed his eyes contentedly.
He’d slept under the stars countless times in the wild—any beast that mistook him for easy prey had ended up as his.
Who knows how long passed, but a tingling crept up the back of Yang Xuan’s head and his spine prickled with cold.
In the darkness, he opened his eyes.
Old Huang’s soft snores were steady.
Yang Xuan listened closely.
Snores rose and fell all around, some loud, some soft, some long, some short—the longest sounded as though they might stop at any moment.
Apart from that, all was unnaturally still.
Yang Xuan reeled in his thread and gently tapped Old Huang.
“Who’s there?” Old Huang shot up, a knife in hand before Yang Xuan could see how he’d drawn it.
In the dark, his eyes gleamed with killing intent.
Yang Xuan lowered his voice, “It’s me.”
“What is it?” Old Huang took a wary step back, then chuckled. Yang Xuan had saved the young lady, surely he wasn’t planning to kill him.
Yang Xuan leaned against the tent wall, feeling the numbness at the back of his head and the chill down his spine. “Something’s not right.”
“What’s wrong?” Old Huang listened, puzzled. “There’s nothing unusual. Did you have a nightmare?”
Yang Xuan lifted the tent flap, letting in the cold night air, making Old Huang shiver.
“I don’t have nightmares.”
He lied. He’d been plagued by nightmares since he was ten. In them, many sought his life, led by Yang Ding and the Wang family.
Old Huang dressed and followed him out.
“Don’t wander,” Old Huang warned. “There are guards at the entrance—if you go without warning, you’ll be shot full of arrows.”
Yang Xuan squatted outside the tent, squinting ahead, right hand grabbing something to sniff.
Old Huang was baffled. “What’d you pick up?”
Yang Xuan shook his head. “I caught a scent that unsettles me.”
Hunched over, he crept forward.
“Careful,” Old Huang bent to follow. “Don’t go looking for trouble.”
Yang Xuan didn’t look back. “I don’t want trouble. But it’s a long way to Chang’an, and I don’t want to gnaw on dry biscuits the whole way.”
He needed to protect their benefactor, to ensure hot water, good food, and a warm tent.
Just for that?
Old Huang curled his lip.
As if sensing Old Huang’s thoughts, Yang Xuan added, “I won’t stand by if someone tries to ambush you.”
Old Huang found it absurd. “There are dozens of guards, why would we need your protection?”
Yang Xuan nodded slightly ahead, making Old Huang want to knock him out.
Suddenly, Yang Xuan froze.
He stared forward, the night wind rustling under the stars. Old Huang felt chilled, but looking at the motionless youth ahead, he swallowed his impatience. He was about to speak when Yang Xuan slowly raised a hand...
Silence!
Recognizing the gesture, Old Huang ground his teeth, ready to discipline the boy afterward.
To Yang Xuan, it felt as if a horde of demons squatted ahead, jaws wide to devour anything that approached.
He unstrung his bow. Old Huang, suppressing a laugh, whispered, “Trying to shoot the moon?”
Yang Xuan shook his head, whispering, “How many enemies does the Wang family have?”
He knew the Five Great Clans were like gods, but not the full extent of their power.
Old Huang was startled. “What did you see?”
Yang Xuan knelt on one knee, tying a cloth strip to his arrowhead. The smell of oil filled the air.
“What are you doing?” Old Huang’s expression changed. “If you wake the young master and the lady, we’ll both—”
Yang Xuan struck a firestarter, blew gently, and lit the cloth.
With a puff, the cloth ignited. Yang Xuan rose, drew his bow, and aimed into the darkness.
Old Huang hissed, “Stop!”
The camp was ringed with guards, with five men watching the entrance. They turned in surprise.
The youth stood at the front of the camp, his face lit by fire.
Whoosh!
The arrow flew.
Everyone’s gaze followed it as it arced, trailing flame, illuminating a shadow crouched in the dark.
The shadow looked up in shock, clearly not expecting to have been discovered.
Old Huang was stunned. He didn’t know how Yang Xuan had sensed the ambush, but one thing was clear: without him, they’d be in serious trouble tonight.
Behind the shadow, a dense mass of figures rose.
Shing! Shing...
The sound of blades being drawn echoed like cavalry charging.
The figures bowed their heads, and the leader pointed his blade forward.
The guards had no time to thank Yang Xuan, only to scream wildly, their cries piercing the night.
“Enemy attack!”
...
Please vote: recommendation and monthly votes!