Su Zhiyun was drinking the thin wild vegetable porridge, her eyes lowered, but her sharp peripheral vision caught A Ran’s movements suddenly freezing.
“A Ran?”
Su Zhiyun put down her bowl and followed A Ran’s gaze toward the overgrown area behind the house.
She saw nothing but grass blades swaying in the morning breeze.
“What’s wrong? Did you see something?”
“No… nothing, Sister Su.”
A Ran quickly looked away, lowered her head, and stirred the porridge in her bowl with a spoon to mask her earlier lapse.
“Maybe… a wild rabbit ran past? I must have been seeing things.”
Su Zhiyun looked suspiciously at the area behind the house again but indeed found nothing unusual.
Seeing that A Ran’s expression had returned to normal, though her face was still a little tense, she assumed A Ran was just spooked by last night’s events and was jumping at shadows.
So she didn’t press further and simply reminded her.
“Mm, that’s good. Eat quickly. The porridge is getting cold.”
Meanwhile, Jiu Baiyun’s figure melted like a shadow into the morning breeze, slipping silently from behind the window of the Ancestral Shrine Hut into the dense thicket.
The moment he landed, the fluffy white fox ears atop his head alertly perked up, swiveling slightly to catch every sound of the mountain morning.
Behind him, that uncontrolled, bushy tail also flicked restlessly through the grass, producing a faint rustling that forced him to divert some attention to suppress it.
“Be quiet!”
He growled in his mind, both at the Yao Fox Demon Venerable and at these unruly demon transformation features.
“Hmph, if you’re so capable, control it yourself.”
The Yao Fox Demon Venerable’s voice carried a hint of schadenfreude.
Jiu Baiyun had no time to bicker with her.
This back mountain, especially the paths leading down to the village below, was no longer quiet in the early morning.
The nearby small mountain villages had villagers who habitually went up the mountain around sunrise—not just those heading to the ancestral hall for prayers.
There were woodcutters, herb-gathering women, children picking mushrooms, and even old folks just checking their crops on their mountain plots.
He had to be extremely careful.
No sooner had he left the ancestral hall area than clear footsteps and rough chatter came from the path ahead.
“Brother Wang, you’re out early today? Looks like that bundle of firewood sold well yesterday!” came the voice of a middle-aged man.
“Heh, not bad! With the sun good, I’ll chop more to stock up.”
Another slightly older voice replied.
Jiu Baiyun immediately crouched low, almost hugging the ground, and swiftly ducked behind a half-man-high weathered rock.
He held his breath, curled his body into the smallest possible shape, and even pressed his restless tail firmly against his side, pinning it under the hem of his robe.
Now he truly regretted not keeping a bit more spiritual energy earlier.
With the meager amount he had now, he couldn’t even use the invisibility method, let alone the Yao Fox Demon Venerable’s power in the short term.
Only when the footsteps and conversation completely faded in the other direction did Jiu Baiyun slowly let out a breath.
Cold sweat had already beaded on his forehead.
This was more nerve-wracking than dealing with those mountain sparrows and masked figures last night.
He didn’t want to be seen like this.
If he were, rumors would spread and stir up trouble the next day.
“Tsk, how pathetic.”
The Yao Fox Demon Venerable commented mercilessly.
“Shut up!”
Jiu Baiyun hissed back in his mind, then moved again.
Jiu Baiyun’s figure hugged the cliff walls and dense thickets as he moved swiftly.
He deliberately avoided all familiar main roads and paths, choosing instead steep, rugged slopes overgrown with thorns and rarely trodden.
“Thirty yards to the left, footsteps approaching—light steps, likely an herb-collecting woman.”
The Yao Fox Demon Venerable’s taunting voice sounded in his mind, giving precise coordinates.
Jiu Baiyun’s heart tightened.
He immediately crouched low and dove into a clump of dense ferns, holding his breath and curling his body as small as possible.
Sure enough, a moment later, the figure of a woman in coarse clothing, carrying a bamboo basket, appeared on the path diagonally above him, humming a tuneless folk song.
She walked briskly past, her gaze sweeping casually over the thick vegetation below but finding nothing unusual.
Just as Jiu Baiyun sighed in relief, the Yao Fox Demon Venerable’s warning came again.
“Fork ahead, take the right path. Two young boys coming this way, carrying slingshots.”
He cursed under his breath, immediately changed direction, and practically scrambled with hands and feet down a steeper, moss-covered stone slope beside him.
The icy dew instantly soaked his pant legs.
His foot slipped, and his body lunged forward.
He hurriedly caught himself on a protruding rock, barely stabilizing.
But this violent motion caused the tail he’d been pressing tightly to break free.
The fluffy tip whoosh swept across the damp rock face, leaving behind a few conspicuous muddy spots.
“Tsk, clumsy!”
The Yao Fox Demon Venerable said without mercy.
But Jiu Baiyun still ignored the Yao Fox Demon Venerable.
By now, he had a pretty good grasp of the Demon Venerable’s personality—the more he retorted, the more she played along.
And indeed, seeing Jiu Baiyun wouldn’t respond, the Demon Venerable clicked her tongue in disinterest and fell silent.
Jiu Baiyun clenched his teeth and pressed that restless fluffy tail firmly to his side.
After confirming the two were gone, he continued on his way.
Fortunately, he didn’t encounter anyone else after that.
Jiu Baiyun’s taut nerves relaxed slightly, but the strange sensation in his body didn’t diminish.
The white fox ears atop his head still twitched involuntarily, and the fluffy tail behind him continued to sweep restlessly.
“Tsk, this damn tail…”
He cursed again inwardly, then quickened his steps.
Finally, when the familiar, slightly dilapidated fence wall appeared in his sight, Jiu Baiyun let out a breath of relief.
The courtyard gate was tightly shut, just as he’d left it.
Jiu Baiyun warily scanned his surroundings again, confirming no one was near, then swiftly darted to the gate.
Instead of taking the front entrance, which might draw attention, he directly scaled the fence wall and dropped into the yard, landing with almost no sound.
As his feet finally touched the ground of his own courtyard, Jiu Baiyun’s tightly wound nerves suddenly relaxed.
“Ha…”
A sigh of relief escaped his lips.
Safe.
At least safe for now.
He tilted his head back slightly, leaning against the door.
The morning light was a bit harsh, causing him to squint.
Since he was isolated by the entire village, his yard was rarely visited.
In a way, it was safe.
But although there was no immediate danger, he had no idea when this fox demon transformation would be dispelled.
If it dragged on, how long would it last?
If someone suddenly came, or if Su Zhiyun took the chance to come down, it would be impossible to explain.