The Tale Never Ends Chapter 159 The Foxes Of The Yellow Soil Ridge

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The farmer could hardly believe what he had heard. As a native of Baishan Village, he had lived at the foot of Tizishan Mountain for all his life.

A mantra, long dormant in his mind, came back to him like an apparition returning to haunt him, “The day grows grey and the mountains old; In darkness lay the silver and gold; Deep behind Mount Tizishan, a trove is stashed beneath the trees; There lies the gold in forest deep; Ere it wakes again from sleep.” And yet here was a Southerner who was speaking about a legend where treasures were hidden at the rear of Tizishan! The farmer felt an exhilarating rush of joy swelling in his chest, but he did his best to maintain his facade; trying to look grieved and rattled by the loss of the gourd. “Well, the missing gourd can do you no good now. I'm sorry that it has to be stolen. Back to where you come from then, Outsider.” With a few simple words, the farmer tried to send the Southerner away.

Before the break of the next dawn, the farmer got up early. He took the bottle gourd with him and began his journey to the rear of Tizishan with hopes of treasure and glory!

The sun was already up in the horizon by the time he reached the rear of Tizishan. Unlike the forested knolls of Yellow Soil Ridge, he had climbed long and hard, traversing the jagged and rocky mounds of Tizishan to reach there.

But there were no other clues for his hunt. The farmer tried hitting everywhere he could find with his gourd like a bat. He had not the slightest inkling of how the gourd would serve as a key, thumping around like a crazed madman all day, until he collapsed out of exhaustion. The twilights of dusk were streaking overhead when he finally leaned on a rock to rest. There was a crack on the face of the cliff which he had hardly noticed at first. But then he realized that the bottle gourd he was holding could fit nicely into the hole on the wall. He slipped the fruit into the wall out of curiosity and sat down on the ground to drink some water, when everything around him began to shake violently like an earthquake!

The farmer panicked and scrambled meters away to safety. But when he looked back, he saw a huge, gaping crack as wide as a door on the face of the rock!

Frightened, the farmer remained frozen at where he stood for minutes. He was afraid if something might pounce out from within. But he waited, and there was nothing. At last, he summoned enough courage to creep closer to the crack, hoping to peer inside. But it was too dark, and he did not bring a lamp. His knees were already threatening to buckle if not for the prospect of treasure that lingered in his mind. Muttering prayers under his breath, he braved himself to step into the crack, plunging himself into the darkness of the cave.

Such was the driving strength of greed, so compelling and irresistible that a fearful man like this farmer could ignore the pangs of fear and step into an abyss of darkness with similar audacity and foolhardiness like how drug-slinging thugs peddling their wares despite the pain of the death sentence.


The farmer wandered in the dark for so long that he lost track of time. Finally, he saw his first sign of light. A glimmer of hope. He emerged into the light and saw a ramshackle hut. The windows were alive with the dim, flickering glow from an oil lamp and everything outside was black. Then he saw an old lady sitting inside, busy in weaving a piece of fabric.

The farmer went inside. “Old lady,” he asked, “I've heard people saying that there are treasures in here. I'm here to look for them.” The old lady shot a cold and brief glance at him, her hands never once stopping from her ch.o.r.e. “There's nothing in here but me, a simple old lady. Go back to where you come from. It's not safe here. Wolves and tigers prowled about here in the night. Beware!” The farmer might look the part of a simple peasant, but he was hardly a fool. There was no way this old lady was an ordinary person! He pestered and begged her for something. In the end, she relented, saying, “I have nothing valuable here in this rickety shack of mine. Go to the back. There are two large jars out there. Take what you can and leave!”

Jars? Then he remembered an old Chinese fable about treasures hidden in jars; an old tale which was common among hillside village folk of that era. With a yelp of joy, he rushed to the back and found a storage shed. There were two huge jars outside. He threw away the covers of the jar and found them both containing full of beans and grain respectively. He almost fainted out of disbelief. For all his trouble, he thought that he had chanced upon a hidden domain and the old lady was an immortal. Badly disappointed, he sank his hands into both jars and took fistfuls of grain and beans before leaving ungratefully without so much as a word to the old lady.

But what he did not expect to hear was the deafening roar of a beast when he stepped out of the hut. He spun on his heels with alarm and saw a huge tiger, snarling at him with its fangs bared before it lunged at him! With a frightened groan, he bolted towards the direction from where he came from.

The farmer panicked. He ran in the dark for dear life, his mind reeling while his heart pounding like a drum. The creature was chasing behind, thirsty for his blood. Many a few times, the tiger's ferocious blows wheezed by his face, barely missing him by inches. At long last, he made it out, leaping back out of the crack.

After a moment of running, he stopped. Then he realized the tiger was no longer chasing him when he got near the entrance. But his tingling senses were warning him against going back; a step back into the cave would surely spell his doom! Out of desperation, he took a leap of faith and exited the cave through the crack. Immediately, the ground shook again and the mouth of the cave immediately closed in and the crack was no more!

He looked around and found that it was already daytime. Then he remembered the beans and grains. In his hysteria, he had lost them all. had forgotten about what he was holding when he was running for his life that he had almost lost them all. There was but three granules of beans and two bits of grain still stuck on his hand. But then he saw: sticking to his hands, were beans of pure gold and magical grains that could grow and sprout overnight!

But the tale of the farmer and the mysterious old lady was but merely a myth. One that shared similarities with this lost underground realm that Lao Tao was leading us through.

When I woke up from my momentary lapse into the bygone fable of the Yellow Soil Ridge, I found myself sitting in a little garden with a table before me laid with tableware and tea. Lao Tao was seated opposite me and we were met by three middle-aged people, all with almond-shaped eyes, who were in fact fox demons. Despite their human forms, their gestures and behavior distinctly differed them from ordinary humans. This must be the representatives of the foxes of the Ridge, here to speak to us.

Lao Tao nipped at the tea in his cup. “Pray speak freely. Master s.h.i.+yan is here to offer his help.” I nodded, indicating my a.s.sent. One of the trio, a man who looked to be greater in authority than the two, spoke, “My greetings to you, ah… dear Lordling.” I smiled at him. “There's no need for all the niceties. I'm afraid this crisis matters my father greatly. It is also at his behest that I am here.” The mention of Father seemed to bear so great a weight that the slightly-bowed figure of the speaker lowered slightly. “Indeed. As it happened, the weasels from abroad have got into a fight with some of our brethren. But with the a.s.sistance of your spirit cat, dear Lordling, we were able to secure a victory in that battle. But recent days have been sour; the weasels have requested help from their benefactor and worse, they swore that they will invade and take our territory! The domains occupied by the beasts of the Yellow Soil Ridge were all designated to us by the Lord Mountain Deity himself. How dare these vermins disobeyed the covenant set by the Mountain Deity! It is our great fortune to have you, young Lordling! Your presence gives us great a.s.surance!”

The fox demon paused, hesitating to continue. “Is there anything else?” I asked bluntly and the demon jumped with apprehension. He bit his lips hard, struggling against the words caught in his throat before he finally croaked, “Your observations are keen, dear Lordling. Truth be told, we've only known this morning that the weasels too have sensed your presence in Zunhua City. And they have sent word to their benefactor!”

The Tale Never Ends Chapter 159 The Foxes Of The Yellow Soil Ridge

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The Tale Never Ends Chapter 159 The Foxes Of The Yellow Soil Ridge summary

You're reading The Tale Never Ends Chapter 159 The Foxes Of The Yellow Soil Ridge. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Mu Xiao Song, 木筱松 already has 665 views.

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