It turns out nothing changed with the arrival of Yung’s clan members. Su Nanya still called the shots, and the glances the Youjin cultivators sent Yung's way didn’t make him feel any safer.

At least his neck was sword free now. He was still kneeling, waiting for important people to finish discussing his fate.

Yung subconsciously hummed a tune, Lord Yaoguai perking up with interest at the music.

The respite allowed him to take a good, hard, extremely detailed look at his saviour now that he was out of that weird Stockholm syndrome-like state.

And what an incredible sight she was.

Su Nanya. A fox-eared, fox-tailed beastwoman. No, yao, as they were called in this universe. Multiverse? World?

In her late teens? Early twenties?

She shimmered in a transparent-red silken gown, adorning her form with golden fox motifs. Her dress was a provocative combination of Turkish Bedlah and Chinese Qipao; made of delicate muslin, tulle, and organza. It hugged her curves and traced every valley, barely covering a tenth of her smooth skin, which was wholly visible through the softly fluttering lace-wear above, delicately caressing her beach-worthy shape and teasing Yung's gaze with alluring glimpses of the wonders that lay beneath: those red unmentionables resembling playfully sunbathing butterflies, embroidered with tropical golden-strings.

Yung felt his heart rate quicken.

Her enchanting scarves were adorned with fox dances on the left, emitting a mysterious aura, and a radiant sun on the right, beaming a seductive light.

Decorating her every edge were mounds of gold accessories: foxes and chains; a woven crown of golden chains affixed with a ruby fox curtsying, a woad forehead tiara with an emerald fox dancing. Chains contoured her buxom figure with a jade sleeping fox nestled between her breasts, and the sparkle of her fox earrings made Yung feel light-headed the longer he stared. It was pure fascination, he realised, as her lithe figure finished up with armlets, bracelets, and anklets encircling her arms, hands, and feet; each one garnished with tiny bells that rung out at every gesture she made.

Yung felt as if he had time-travelled back in time, watching a scene from an exotic cinema playing out before him—gorgeous belly dancers enslaved to the fantasy realm. Then he remembered that he had indeed travelled worlds, but perhaps he was the enslaved here, and mayhap, there was magic at play. He could feel himself slipping into the previous trance-like state again. But this time, Yung allowed himself to fully succumb to Su Nanya's presence. For she was an exotic work of art, and he was hopeless but to admire her.

And then Yung saw it, and broke out of the dreamy illusion that tried to enthral him.

Dear lord! Is that a two-foxes-kissing belly button piercing joined with a fox-engraved hip chain? Why’s she dressing like a Dutch wife?

Su Nanya smirked in his direction. Yung blushed and looked away, the transfixed heat leaving his ears like steam, and he had the chance to calm down. The men in the Youjin clan group were the same, he noticed; trying their hardest not to peep at the vixen, all grumpy faces and red ears. Whilst the women looked absolutely aghast, reeling, and positively scandalised.

For Su Nanya was, without doubt, amorous to the extreme. Sensual, yet all the same, her fashion was wholly impractical. It was also impractical to apply makeup on your face while talking to the local ruling clan’s representative in a graveyard littered with voidfiend corpses. No one pointed that out to her.

Yung had a niece who did the same thing in his previous life, going through a rebellious emo phase, getting into trouble with boys and all that. His eldest sister, Frankl, was not afraid to cut her off after his niece had run away with a well-meaning but hopelessly brainless punk once, and it worked as the teen came back sobbing. Frankl had learnt from their East Indian mother, who was not as coddling as his West Austrian father, that mixed Indian households in the UK should work under a more Marxist ruleset than the greater Great Britain.

They liked foxes, didn't they? Mum and Dad kept a Fennec Fox before they had us. Sir Floofykins.

Yung missed his family. He missed the songs at the dinner table. No one made fun of his wheezing voice or off-beat rhythms. They’d all been there to watch his test with the VR machine.

I wonder how well the changeling can play me—holy cow, a palanquin?

Four fox clan members carried in a regal fox-headed palanquin, and it was no less extravagant than its owner, crafted with exquisite detail and luxurious materials fit only for a goddess. Its bed was made of a shimmering fabric that resembled a blend of silken blood and golden fur, while the canopy was adorned with the softest feathers and velvet, evoking the sensation of being wrapped in the wings of a great bird. The structure itself was carved from an amber-like substance, recalling the colour of sunlight passing through a shot glass. Its lustre made it appear like a tinted diamond dissolved into wine, as if it were a precious gemstone washed ashore by the tide.

The canopy was supported by four sturdy poles adorned with intricate vulpine motifs, from the fox head at the top to the detailed carvings in the wood. The fox head had beetle-like eyes encrusted with multi-coloured crystals, glowing in a pulse of distinct cadence. Its face was etched with furrows, nine in all, that snaked down the neck, through muscles, and into a space between the shoulder blades. Each groove was crammed with rubies and smooth river pearls, glinting in the sunlight like stars in the night sky.

As it was carried forth by the servants, the palanquin seemed to float gracefully across the ground, its long shadows moving in perfect unison. The fox clan members carried the vehicle with an air of respect and reverence, as if they were carrying a throne to her queen.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Su Nanya promptly lay down on it, leaning on her side, one head supported by her arm, which in turn was propped on a jewelled pillow. The servants then picked the palanquin up. The fox woman who had decapitated the voidfiends with a single fan swipe now used an enlarged version of that magical artefact to fan the vain vixen.

No! Bad Yung. Her people saved my life. I should not judge her tastes. More importantly, let me see what the deal is with all these golden threads—

Su Nanya beckoned at Yung lethargically, “You shall come here.”

Yung walked over, fidgeting past the Youjin warriors with a lowered head. Wait, why am I lowering my head? Yung took a deep breath and straightened his back; his memories as Jung would not allow self-deprecation.

A fox servant put a cushion on the grass before the palanquin.

“Sit.”

Yung sat. The cushion was comfy, like memory foam. It probably cost more than him.

Su Nanya stared at him from above with those golden irises.

For ten seconds.

A minute.

Five minutes.

Yung’s heart went from a tranquil lake to a tornado again.

“Thank you.” Mum always said manners would take me places talent and status won’t. But Gaia almighty, that belly button piercing is bugging me. “For saving my life. I would have died if Fairy Nyanya hadn’t taken care of the—”

“Who ever is this Nyanya you speak to?”

“This insolent one bit his tongue.” Damnit! Damn this untrained mind. Yung bowed his head until his forehead touched the ground. “I wish to express my gratitude. If Fairy Nanya needs anything, You only need to ask.”

A few more minutes of staring. Yung spotted the Youjin clan members go paler than chalk from the corner of his eyes. On the other side, the three full-black fox cultivators who had almost decapitated Yung unsheathed their swords just enough to gleam in the light.

“Very well. We can always applaud a gentleman’s appreciation. We do commend your gratitude.”

More than a dozen sighs of relief rang out.

“We search for an artefact of our Su fox clan.” Su Nanya went straight to the point. “We suspect you have it, boy, as our artefact can help the lesser initiate any of the three dantians. But we shall give you a chance to prove us wrong. Prey tell, how have you awakened your Heart qi?”

As opposed to Yung, who relaxed at her question, the Youjin clan members tensed again. He could feel the accusatory glances sent his way even without reading their golden threads.

“It was our Lord Yaoguai, my lady.” Yung recounted the events leading him to make the soul contract with the foxmoth land god.

Come to think of it, what happened to the petite guy?

Lord Yaoguai was taking a bath in Yung’s True qi. He— and the only way Yung could explain this was— purged himself of all his innate Heart qi and replaced that with Yung’s True qi.

“You shall bring this yaoguai out.” Su Nanya said after Yung’s tale ended. Lord Yaoguai finished bathing and propped himself with cheers. The critter gave Yung the best impression of an ‘Okei!’ inside his heart palace dantian.

He willed the Heart qi, and soon a fuzzy little foxmoth appeared in his palm.

The Youjin clan members gasped.

Yung raised it towards Su Nanya, the light reflecting off the critter’s shiny fuzz. Yung’s pose cast deep shadows on the grass, reminding him of a particular baboon holding up a cat…

Su Nanya’s eyes glowed bright like double suns. She scanned Lord Yaoguai up and down and raised her chin at the tall fox woman fanning her. The woman took Lord Yaoguai from Yung’s cupped palms and put it beside Su Nanya on the palanquin.

The vixen poked the critter's fuzzy belly with a finger just as she had Yung, and Lord Yaoguai squeaked like a roly-poly toy.

They waited. No reaction from either side.

“Well now, we may have misjudged you. A soul contract with a dying yaoguai would do to awaken your heart palace dantian. However, we most certainly sensed our treasure in these lands.” Su Nanya glanced down with a disinterested face. She kept poking Lord Yaoguai before reaching into a silken purse tied to her hip chain.

“We seek one such as this.”

An orb. Glowing violet and gold, with shadows of foxes dancing with illuminated clouds. Both larger than the sun and darker than the moon, it seemed to exist as a unique celestial body within Su Nanya's dainty fingers. Its diamond surface reflected the light of the world around it in a mesmerising rainbow of colours. Despite having different sleeves and kingdoms, it remained the same size, just a tiny orb, yet a beautiful and powerful entity lacking an equal. Lustrous without words, the ball radiated an aura of opulence and wisdom. As though a world's worth of information was crammed inside that gem on gold-bound amethyst albums.

It stung Yung’s eyes. Su Nanya put it back in her purse.

“The Su fox clan is generous. We desire to know if any one of you has seen such a thing.”

Yung shook his head. He hadn’t.

“The clan of this boy owns this orchard; are we right to assume so?”

Behind Yung, a Youjin clan member answered Su Nanya's question. "The Dim Gold orchard has been our clan's foundation for six centuries." Yung recognised this man. He was one of their clan's foundation building realm elders and, more crucially, a staunch follower of the previous patriarch.

His grandkid used to bully Yung.

“Not one of your kin has seen our treasure?” Su Nanya said.

“I recognise the one you held, Honoured Fairy Su. It’s a Foxball, one of the best artificial spirit roots in the land. But I swear on my clan’s honour that we have never seen one so divine. This one has only seen those of transparent white colour.” The Youjin elder replied, then glanced at Yung. “Though for this madlander, I cannot vouch for his pedigree. Their kind is known to have shifty hands.”

“None but baseless accusations. We did not ask your opinion on the boy or madlanders, but only on our lost occultic foxball. What should we even expect from a backwater clan? Tut.” Su Nanya shook her head, clearly disappointed. Yung controlled the urge to gawk at the xenophobe elder’s face because he was busy reading Lord Yaoguai’s emotions. The critter sent thoughts of acid and vitriol at the purse holding the foxball. Or maybe the foxball itself and not Su Nanya?

Lord Yaoguai knew something.

“No matter. This session is adjourned. We grow tired of this place.” Su Nanya said. “We return to your village. We have matters to discuss with your headsman.”

The fox girl then sent Yung a glance that did weird things to his endocrine system. “Boy, your debt is paid with truthful words. You may excuse yourself.”

The fan-wielding fox woman returned Lord Yaoguai to Yung; the critter wasted no time crawling back into his heart palace dantian.

Phew! The good news was to be celebrated. Su Nanya was letting him go in one piece. Small problem. Years of prejudice had made this world’s Yung, the half-breed madlander trash, extremely sensitive to ill will.

He’d rather not handle blinkered bullying an hour after regaining memories of a much kinder world.

“How can a life debt be paid with a few mere words.” Yung brought out his best ten-second elevator pitch. “No one knows these orchards better than Lord Yaoguai. As his contracted, This Ziyou Yung offers his services to the lady!”

“Then we shall speak later.” That was all she said.

Great!

The four servants hoisting the palanquin took to the road with steady gaits; everyone there, including Yung and the glowering Youjin clan members, followed behind like ducklings.