“And then the blue bird ate the bug!” exclaimed Ai as she mimicked a beak snapping shut with her hand.

Sen smiled as he listened and made sure to gasp loudly at her pantomime.

“Oh no!” he shouted. “The poor bug!”

Ai’s face scrunched up in thoughtful concentration for a moment before she shook her head.

“It was a yucky bug,” she announced.

“Oh, well, if it was a yucky bug, then it’s a good thing that bird ate it. We can’t have yucky bugs around here. Should we give the bird a present to say thank you?”

“You’re silly,” giggled Ai. “Birds don’t get presents.”

“They don’t?” asked Sen as if this were the most shocking news in the world.

“No!”

She looked like she might say more, but that was when Zhi ran up, grabbed her hand, and pulled Ai away to play some new game the other little girl had thought up. Knowing he was leaving the next day made it hard for Sen not to call Ai back over to him. He wanted to soak up every second he could with her. He held his tongue, though. There had been precious little play, or fun, or joy in his childhood. He wouldn’t deprive Ai of a second of those things if he could help it. Instead, he looked around at the odd mix of people in his home. Uncle Kho and Auntie Caihong had claimed a spot by the fireplace and smiled over the proceedings like a pair of benevolent deities who were well-pleased by what they saw. Sen barely contained his snort of amusement when Zhi decided that Unca Kho and Auntie Caihai – a mispronunciation that never ceased to amuse Sen – needed to join the game. A decision she announced by running over to them, unceremoniously grabbing their hands and pulling at them. He snorted when he imagined the hordes of cultivators who would probably choke to death on all the blood they spat up if they ever saw such a display.

He noticed that Falling Leaf had cornered Shen Mingxia and seemed to be imparting something to the other woman. Was it advice? Orders? Whatever Falling Leaf was saying had made Shen Mingxia go a little pale. He decided to leave it alone unless the foundation formation cultivator started shooting him desperate looks. That had become Shen Mingxia’s go-to move whenever she felt in over her head around the nascent soul cultivators or human form spirit beasts who just sort of wandered around his home and academy whenever they got bored. He was glad the nascent soul cultivators put in a little effort and masked their true power whenever they interacted with the students at the academy. Although, that had done very little to prevent all kinds of wild speculation about who they were. The only clarification Sen had ever offered was to call them his personal guests.

Li Hua, who actually knew who Uncle Kho was, had kept that information to herself. She was there and had seemed to form some kind of pact of mutual uncertainty with Wu Meng Yao. They both hovered near the large table where Sen had put out a truly absurd amount of food for people to eat as and when they wished. Neither seemed all that sure about who they should talk to or even if they should interact with anyone. He had hoped that Li Hua might grow more comfortable with everyone over time, especially given how close Ai and Zhi were, but she adhered to a firm code of formality with pretty much everyone but him. He supposed it was probably safer for her to do that. It would help prevent misunderstandings with so many other cultivators in the area. He had been very clear about his rules regarding how the cultivators at the academy were to interact with the townspeople, but cultivators were cultivators. He worried it was only a question of when, not if, he’d be forced to kill one of them to prove that he meant the rules applied to everyone. Sen shook those thoughts away.

He looked over to where Glimmer of Night was… Sen frowned. What in the world is that spider doing? Glimmer of Night was facing a wall and gently running a finger across a particular spot on the stone. Unable to resist the minor mystery, Sen rose from his chair and walked over.

“Something about my wall troubling you?” asked Sen with an amused smirk.

Glimmer of Night looked at him and said, “Not troubling. Intriguing.”

Sen lifted an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Whatever you did to make this wall, it changed the stone. There’s a distinct crystalline pattern to it now that you don’t normally see.”

“I see,” said Sen slowly.

It took another second before he realized that he didn’t see at all. He had no idea what a crystalline pattern was beyond what he could infer from the name itself. He thought about asking but ultimately didn’t. He was sure it would be interesting, but it would also consume his attention for the rest of the night. He didn’t want to be distracted. He wanted to be here, present, and available to the people around him. The spider, wholly unaware of these thoughts, nodded eagerly.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I suspect that I might be able to learn something useful from this pattern. Possibly even adapt it for my study of webs.”

Sen considered it and said, “I hope it works out.”

He turned to walk over to the table when the spider brought him up short.

“When do we leave tomorrow?” asked Glimmer of Night.

It was casual as if he was asking about the weather or what to eat. It caught Sen completely off guard. He hadn’t planned on taking the spider with him. The thought had never even occurred to him. Taking Glimmer of Night into the heart of human civilization seemed like a monumentally bad idea. Sure, the people here had taken his presence mostly in stride, but the spider had enjoyed a bit of reflected goodwill from Sen. The townspeople had still been exceedingly wary, and it had taken months and months of the spider coming and going and generally not murdering everyone to wear down all but the most irrational suspicions. Glimmer of Night would enjoy none of those protections in the capital.

The mortals there would likely be terrified of him. The sects would probably want to capture and dissect him. Sen thought that he might be able to prevent that latter problem by sending some carefully worded messages to the sects about how he would not look kindly on someone killing his friend to sate their curiosity. The mortals, though? He didn’t think he could do anything to prevent them from forming a mob. And there were a lot of mortals in the capital. Sen tried to think about the best way to approach the problem.

“I’m not sure it’s wise for you to visit the capital,” Sen finally said.

The spider stopped fixating on the wall and turned to look at Sen.

“Why?” asked the spider.

“Because I’m worried that the mortals would try to kill you. Even if they didn’t, there’s a good chance one of the sects would try to grab you, so they could experiment on you. Live spirit beasts are not common there. Powerful ones, even less so. You might be a prize they can’t resist.”

“How would they know?” asked Glimmer of Night.

Sen blinked a few times as his brain tried to sort out a polite answer. Sighing, Sen just gestured at the spider.

“You’re kind of obvious. You’ll draw attention.”

The spider down at himself and then seemed to understand.

“It won’t be a problem.”

Sen shook his head. The spider kept saying things that didn’t make much sense. It was starting to make him feel twitchy.

“How is that not a problem?” asked Sen.

Sen felt a small burst of qi that had an oddly familiar quality to it, although he couldn’t quite put his finger on what seemed familiar. That curiosity was swept straight out of his mind as the spider transformed from a pitch-black creature covered in chitin to a young, human man. From one moment to the next, Glimmer of Night had gone from being something that would attract every eye to someone who could walk unmolested anywhere in the kingdom. Sen gaped at the transformation.

“What?” Sen demanded. “When did you learn how to do this?”

“On the way here. I watched the fox who lusted after you.”

Sen felt like his eyes were going to fall out of his head.

“You knew this entire time? Why didn’t you change before?”

Glimmer of Night held up an arm and scratched at it.

“It’s itchy.”

Sen wanted to yell at the spider for causing all of that worry in the town for nothing, but it seemed someone else had been listening because Auntie Caihong was suddenly standing next to them.

“What’s this about a fox lusting after Sen?” she asked, eyes alight with the need to know.

Before Sen could redirect the conversation, Glimmer of Night immediately decided to be helpful.

“It was the she-fox grandchild of the elder fox. She lusts for him,” said the spider with an enthusiastic nod. “She was very vexed that he did not wish to mate with her.”

“Really?” asked Auntie Caihong, a wicked gleam of amusement in her eyes. “Laughing River has a granddaughter?”

“Yes,” said Sen his tone resigned.

“And she propositioned you?”

“Yes,” admitted Sen.

“And you declined? More than once?”

“Yes,” said Sen as just the memory of it all made him feel tired.

Auntie Caihong started laughing. He wasn’t sure exactly what kind of laugh it was, just that it wasn’t a laughing together sort of laugh. It left Sen feeling deeply unsettled. He narrowed his eyes at Auntie Caihong.

“I’m clearly missing something here,” he said. “What it is?”

Instead of answering, she called Uncle Kho over. He disengaged from Zhi and Ai’s game and approached them while giving Auntie Caihong a questioning glance. It seemed to take a supreme effort of will for her to get through the explanation without bursting into more laughter.

“It turns out that,” she said, “that Laughing River has a granddaughter, and she took an interest in Sen.”

“Well, I suppose most people spend a night with at least one nine tail fox,” said Uncle Kho, seeming to lose interest.

“No. That’s the thing. He didn’t. He turned her down. Repeatedly,” she said as laughter started to sneak through.

Uncle Kho stared at Auntie Caihong in baffled shock for a second before turning that look on Sen. There was a quiet moment before Uncle Kho burst into laughter. Sen felt his frustration start to rise. He didn’t enjoy being on the wrong side of a joke he didn’t even understand.

“What don’t I know?” he demanded.

Uncle Kho turned to see if Auntie Caihong wanted to explain, but she was doubled over with laughter. Shaking his head, Uncle Kho gave Sen a look that was part pity, part sympathy, and a lot of humor.

“Sen, nine tail foxes grow bored pretty easily. So, if one expresses that sort of interest in you, giving in makes them lose interest and go away. They read it as a lack of willpower on your part or something along those lines. Declining once, well, that’s usually read as a signal that you have a more serious interest in them and that you have the strength of will to carry through on it. Saying no repeatedly. Well, how do I put this?”

Auntie Caihong got control of herself just long enough to cut in with, “You basically proposed to her!”

It took five full seconds before Sen gathered himself and said, “Oh, by the thousand hells.”