Nine-Tailed Fox

Long ago, in the mist-shrouded mountains of the East, there roamed a celestial fox with fur like snow and nine luminous tails. The Classic of Mountains and Seas (Shan Hai Jing) tells of its magic: a guardian spirit that could command wind and fire, bless harvests, or—if angered—whirl into a tempest. Yet it was also a keeper of secrets, whispering wisdom to those who respected the balance of nature.

One day, a young scholar, weary from reading ancient scrolls by candlelight, encountered the fox at a moonlit bridge. "Why do you toil so?" it asked, its voice like chimes. "To preserve stories like yours," he replied. Amused, the fox plucked a single glowing hair from its tail and gifted it to him—where it touched his book, the strand hardened into a delicate bookmark, etched with its likeness. "Now no tale shall ever escape you," it laughed, vanishing like smoke.