Moyu drew a breath so slow it felt like stealing time from the room.
"All right." His voice was small. Steady enough. "I'll show you."
> "This way."
Moyu's steps echoed softly as he led the fox through the narrow corridor, the weight of every moment pressing down like stone.
The fox's eyes flash with quiet triumph as Moyu presses a hidden seal inside the vault's inner door. It swings open to reveal shelves lined with rows of bottles of glowing pills, bundles of rare herbs emitting faint spiritual auras, boxes of spirit stones shimmering with latent power, and ornate spiritual items resting on shelves.
The fox's eyes narrowed, its grin sharpening
tail flicks excitedly as it steps inside, whisking through the treasures with practiced ease.
> "Top-tier Earth-grade pills, and look at this—rare spirit herbs."
It pops open a jar of pills, inhaling deeply.
> "Now this... is worth the trouble."
Moyu watches, silent but shrinking with every treasure the fox adds to its pouch.
The lizard perched on the fox's head clicks softly, eyes sharp, scanning for traps or hidden defenses.
The fox glances back .
> "Don't worry, I'll be quick. You just stay out of the way."
Moyu swallowed, heart heavy.
Because in here wasn't just treasure. It was the Shen clan's soul — their greatest secrets, their true legacy.
And now, it was all about to slip through his fingers.
The fox gave the final pouch a satisfied pat, the soft chime of its spiritual energy closing echoing faintly through the vault.
It turned, tail swaying behind it, a slow arc of practiced grace.
Its turquoise eyes gleamed with quiet delight as it faced Moyu.
> "That's all," it said simply, voice tinged with smug satisfaction.
Moyu stood there—still, silent.
But inside, something cracked.
His eyes swept across the shelves—now empty. Every bottle, every herb, every last spirit stone... gone. Even the sealed jade boxes that hadn't been opened in over fifty years had vanished into that impossibly small pouch hanging from the fox's neck.
He felt hollow. Like a piece of him—of his lineage, of the clan's soul—had been ripped clean from his chest.
> That was our foundation. Our lifeline for generations. Gone. All of it. Just like that.
And yet the fox wasn't done.
It took a casual step forward, looking at Moyu—not with hostility, not even menace, but something far worse: amusement.
> "Right," it said, as if continuing a thought only it had been having.
Moyu's eyes flicked up, his breath catching.
> Right?
A chill slid down his spine.
> "W-What do you mean… right?" he asked, voice hoarse.
The fox tilted its head slightly, blinking slowly—like a noble looking over a half-interesting servant.
> "You look like you've seen a ghost," it said softly. "Calm down."
The lizard on its head gave a lazy flick of its tail, curling slightly tighter around the pouch.
The fox's smile turned faintly sharp.
> "I said I was done taking the treasure."
A beat.
Then:
> "Unless..."
Its voice dipped—just slightly—but enough to make Moyu's skin crawl.
> "Are you still hiding something from me?"
Moyu froze.
He didn't understand.
> It couldn't know. There was nothing left.
Nothing hidden. Nothing secret.
The vaults were empty — the fox had taken everything that could be taken.
So why did it still look at him like that?
The way the fox's eyes glimmered — sharp, knowing — made his stomach twist.
> What else does it want? it has already taken every last item in the treasury What else could there possibly be?
The fox's tone stayed soft, but the pressure behind it thickened, pushing against the air like a storm waiting to break.
> "You sure I've seen everything, Clan Head?"
> "Or are you just hoping I'll leave before I notice the dust trail?"
Moyu's breath stuttered. His thoughts scattered.
> Dust trail? What dust trail?
There's nothing! There's nothing left!
His fingers trembled at his sides, useless.
He wanted to shout, to tell it the truth — but his throat locked.
The fox didn't move. Didn't need to.
Its next words were quiet. Almost gentle.
> "I really hope you're not wasting my time."
Moyu's heart thudded painfully in his chest.
> Wasting its time? What does that mean? What more can I give you?
The silence hung sharp and brittle.
Moyu stood motionless, heart hammering, each breath dragging like stone through his throat.
The fox tilted its head slightly, watching him.
Amused.
Not angry. Not impatient. Just… curious. Like a cat with a dying bird.
> "No hidden seal?" it said softly.
"No last-minute trick from the Shen clan head?"
Its steps were slow. Controlled. The lizard on its head blinked once, tail flicking.
Moyu opened his mouth — and closed it again.
> There's nothing left.
But saying it aloud felt pointless. Like a lie even though it wasn't.
The fox's grin returned, subtle and sharp.
> "You're shaking," it noted. "I thought clan heads were made of stronger stuff."
Moyu's legs wobbled beneath him. He straightened, but barely. His voice scraped out.
> "You've taken everything."
The fox gave a small, considering nod.
> "I have."
A pause.
Then it stepped closer. Close enough for Moyu to see his own reflection in its turquoise eyes — pale, defeated, small.
> "So why," it whispered, "do you still look like a man guarding a door?"
Moyu's breath caught.
> Because what else do I have left to protect?
Because if I don't stand here, even as nothing, then I'm no one.
The fox leaned in just slightly. Its next words were quiet. Precise.
> "Tell me, Clan Head. If I open every scroll, every brick, every bone in this place… will you still insist there's nothing?"
Moyu didn't answer.
Because he couldn't.
Not without breaking.
The fox studied him a moment longer — then exhaled through its nose in a soft, dismissive breath.
It stepped back. Turned away.
> "Thought so."
It gave the last pouch a gentle pat, and with a flick of its tail, began walking toward the vault's exit. Its voice drifted behind it, smooth as silk.
> "Thank you for your cooperation."
> "I'll be on my way now."