Holding hands?
Yu Tan's brows dipped, and a short, disbelieving snort escaped him. "Who do you think you are? From now on, unless I say otherwise, keep at least a meter away. You're my bodyguard, not a pet for me to cradle—understand? If you can't do that, you can leave right now."
He cast Hu Xiaoyu a cold look and began to walk away.
Yu Tan wasn't worried the boy would quit. Despite the abruptness of his arrival, Hu Xiaoyu's insistence on getting close was obvious; he wouldn't give up easily. What Yu Tan couldn't quite place was the boy's motive.
Hu Xiaoyu flashed a small fang at Yu Tan's retreating back and muttered, "Why won't he hug me anymore? He used to coax me to show my true form and loved stroking my fur…"
To show his displeasure, he twitched a finger almost imperceptibly. A thin ribbon of green spiritual energy—imperceptible to human eyes—slid past Yu Tan's shoulder and seeped into the car Ah Jiu had just driven up to.
Ah Jiu stopped the car, stepped out, and moved to open the rear door for his master. No matter how he pushed, the handle wouldn't budge—as if the latch had been glued shut.
Hands in his pockets, Hu Xiaoyu sauntered up behind Yu Tan and watched as Yu Tan placed his hand on the same handle and the door opened with effortless ease.
The moment Yu Tan touched the metal, the lingering spiritual energy dispersed into motes of light, some of which danced playfully around Yu Tan before vanishing into him.
What the…?
Hu Xiaoyu gaped. Then realization bloomed. Ah—of course. Yu Tan still bore one of my tails. My spiritual tricks don't work on him.
After that little display, annoyance evaporated, replaced by fatigue. His energy reserves were limited; each use left him light-headed.
Seeing Yu Tan settle in the back seat, Hu Xiaoyu recalled the earlier admonition and obediently took the front passenger seat. Curled against the glass, he pressed his cheek to the window and watched the city lights smear into jeweled streaks.
He had inherited the host's memories, but seeing the world firsthand felt different. The modern city dazzled him—so bright, so dreamlike.
A soft creak from the rear made him peek back. Yu Tan, eyes half-closed, gave a single, guarded look. There was tiredness in him—a man who'd long since learned to detach—but a razor's edge still lurked at the corners of those dark eyes.
Hu Xiaoyu wondered, helplessly, why the world had grown so beautiful while Yu Tan had grown so cold.
He widened his own eyes until they seemed playfully feral, then pulled a ridiculous face. For a beat, Yu Tan's expression trembled—almost broke—and Hu Xiaoyu ducked his head in time.
Ah Jiu caught the brief softening in the rearview and quickly pretended not to have seen it. Maybe, he thought, Hu Xiaoyu's presence wasn't entirely unwelcome. Tonight the boss had shown more feeling than he'd revealed in years. After all, what was wealth without a pulse?
An hour later the car rolled into a sprawling estate, trees lining the drive like silent sentinels. The scent of green air lifted Hu Xiaoyu's spirits.
So this was where Yu Tan lived.
He adored it.
They crossed lawns and low-lit paths to the manor, whose muted grandeur felt almost somber at night—ample rooms, staff wings, gardens and a pool; a private world. The main house rose three stories above ground, two below. The emptiness that filled so many rooms made the silence at night feel almost heavy.
Inside, an elderly man with kind, round features and white hair waited.
When Yu Tan greeted him, "Uncle Hong," Hu Xiaoyu chimed cheerfully, "Hello, Uncle Hong!"
Yu Tan hesitated a step before moving on upstairs.
Uncle Hong laughed softly. "Young Master brought a friend?"
Hu Xiaoyu beamed. "Yep! A very good friend. Yu Tan said I could have food and a place to stay, so here I am."
Ah Jiu, already accustomed to the boy's antics, grabbed a bottled drink from the fridge and listened as Yu Tan asked Uncle Hong to ready the vacant first-floor room for Hu Xiaoyu.
Uncle Hong's smile tightened. "Young Master, that's—"
Yu Tan tapped the staircase railing once. "It's decided." He glanced at Hu Xiaoyu. "Don't go upstairs. If you need anything, ask Uncle Hong."
Hu Xiaoyu craned his neck toward the stairs. "Fine, I won't. You're stingy."
Ah Jiu handed him a second bottle of water on his way to his own room.
The space Yu Tan assigned was a servant's room—half the size of the main bedrooms, clean but faintly musty from disuse. Uncle Hong, though uneasy, dared not contradict Yu Tan and ordered the maids to freshen it.
Bribed with a cold drink, Hu Xiaoyu was unfazed by Yu Tan's coolness. He had spent his life among fox elders and, with practiced charm, coaxed a grin out of Uncle Hong before retreating to his quarters.
Room size mattered little. He was far more captivated by the appliances—quirky, small miracles of the modern age. Guided by the host's patchy memories, he toggled switches, tinkered with the showerhead, and finally flopped onto the bed with a satisfied sigh.
For the first time since arriving, he could relax. This was Yu Tan's home; Yu Tan had once declared his home would always be Hu Xiaoyu's. That memory warmed him, even if Yu Tan no longer remembered the vow.
He rolled on the mattress, content—until his phone rang.
Caller ID: Li Yu.
He answered. A sharp, anxious voice cut through: "Where are you?!"
Hu Xiaoyu mimicked back, "Where are you?"
"Hu Xiaoyu! It's so late—don't you know Aunt and Uncle are worried?" Li Yu said, then held the phone out to the adults hovering nearby.
Hu Xiaoyu remembered ignoring their calls earlier. The original Hu Xiaoyu—same name—was effectively dead. The man whose memories he carried had a fraught history with these relatives; he'd preferred Yu Tan's company to their forced affection.
He sighed, stitching together the old life from memory and his fox instincts. Calmly, he answered, "Li Yu, all you ever do is mock me. Now you show concern because you're in front of Aunt and Uncle?"
Li Yu froze, glancing awkwardly at the elders, cheeks reddening.
Li Yu was the son of Hu Xiaoyu's maternal uncle; when Hu Xiaoyu disappeared, Li Yu had been elevated to the family's favored child. For Hu Xiaoyu to speak like this was scandalous.
Mrs. Hu snatched the phone. Her tone was sharp. "Jiajia—"
She still called him by the pet name she'd given him, hoping he would one day accept it and return to the fold. But Hu Xiaoyu—the fox in human guise—had no patience for sentimental coercion.
"Mom, I'm staying at a friend's for a few days. Clearing my head. I'll be back in a couple of days," he said, then hung up.
Mrs. Hu stared at the receiver in disbelief. "Was that really Jiajia?"
Mr. Hu listened, recognized a familiar cadence in the voice, and exhaled slowly. "It's him. We'll talk when he gets back."
Li Yu, embarrassed and stung, continued to gripe under Mrs. Hu's steady reproach.
In his room, Li Yu fired a message: Are you at Yu Tan's?
Word of the Hu family's prodigal son cozying up to Yu Tan had already become hot gossip among the elite.
Upstairs, Yu Tan was finishing his own call. He rolled his prayer beads between his fingers and said, casually, "Old man, the fate you spoke of—he's finally appeared. Tell me—should I boil him, fry him, roast him, or stew him?"