Chapter 45: Will-o'-the-Wisps and Foxes

Deep within the great mountains.

The last sliver of the setting sun swept across the dense forest, vanishing without a trace. Night blanketed the entire expanse, plunging the woods into a profound stillness and endless darkness.

Flicker~

The dancing flames illuminated Zhang Hao’s face. He turned his head slightly to gaze into the darkened forest, then raised his gaze upward to look at the scattered starlight in the sky.

Finally, he cast his eyes back to the campfire before him and the object roasting above it.

It was a skinned rabbit, a wild hare he had chanced upon in the mountains, which he had finally managed to catch after a great deal of effort.

At that moment, the rabbit was sizzling as fat dripped from it into the fire, making a crackling sound.

Zhang Hao could not stem the flow of his saliva, but he managed to temporarily suppress the urge to devour the roasted rabbit meat right away.

It was not done yet, and he had not yet sprinkled the seasonings.

It didn't taste good yet, and eating it raw would easily give him a bad stomach.

Getting diarrhea in the wilderness... was a thoroughly miserable experience, and a very dangerous one at that.

After all, he was only wearing this single outfit, and he only had one pair of pants.

Rumble~

Rubbing his protesting stomach, Zhang Hao licked his lips, unscrewed his canteen, and took a huge gulp of water in an attempt to stave off his hunger, but clearly, it was of no use.

With a forceful effort, he dragged his gaze away from the roasted rabbit and back into the dense forest.

As he looked at the gloomy woods, his brows furrowed slightly, only to slowly smooth out again.

His harvest for the entire afternoon could be described as meager.

The methods recorded in the Illustrated Chronicles of Mountain-Walking Journeys were not proving very effective.

It was a technique known as the Mountain-Traveling Art. Simply put, it involved using previously left traces to locate the current whereabouts of rare mountain treasures, or utilizing the spiritual nature inherent in such treasures to deduce the specific locations of older, more mature specimens.

This method was somewhat useful when searching for valuable herbs and ginseng.

When applied to tracking foxes... it was obviously not particularly useful.

As expected, he still needed to figure out another way to find those foxes.

At this thought, Zhang Hao let out a helpless sigh and shifted his gaze back.

Just then, his eyes landed on the rabbit, which had already scorched and was now smoking. His pupils contracted, and he cried out, "Holy crap!"

With no time to overthink, he snatched the rabbit out of the fire.

Looking at the blackened rabbit meat, which was no longer edible, he swallowed hard and, with a heavy heart, used his hunting knife to carve away the burned portions.

Then, sighing, he sprinkled a little salt onto the rabbit meat, pulled a flatbread out of his pack, warmed it up briefly, and shoved it into his mouth along with the rabbit meat.

The moment the roasted rabbit meat entered his mouth, a gamey odor hit him. Unlike the mutton-like smell of beef or lamb, this flavor was closer to the smell of earth and blood, and it was quite chewy.

Sure enough, mountain game that hadn't been properly bled or treated with heavy spices simply didn't taste good when just roasted plain.

Zhang Hao chewed the flatbread, ate the rabbit meat, and drank some water.

Having hurriedly finished his simple dinner, he rested for a short while, stood up, and stepped into the dense forest.

Before long, he emerged carrying an armful of dry branches—the one thing there was never any shortage of in the mountains.

Returning to the campfire, he tossed the branches into the flames.

If one had to spend the night in the mountains, first, one should try to choose an open area, such as a clearing or a spot close to a water source.

Second, there must be a campfire, and it had to be kept burning all night long.

This was because the firelight could drive away wild beasts, keeping them from approaching, and to a certain extent, ensure that mountain spirits and weird entities stayed away.

As for trying to choose an open area:

If one were to light a campfire deep within the dense forest, the outcome would basically be...

A fire on the mountain, a police station visit in town, your family weeping tears by the dozen, and a thoroughly criminal lifestyle.

Tossing in the dry branches and watching the blazing flames, Zhang Hao’s thoughts began to wander.

Counting from tonight, there were still three days left until the foxes' wedding. Within these three days, he had to find a way to locate the foxes' lair, or at the very least find the route their wedding procession would take.

In any case, as long as he could seize the opportunity to tail the wedding procession, find the venue, and catch a glimpse of the rare treasures, it would be the ultimate success.

Three days should theoretically be enough...

As his thoughts raced, Zhang Hao’s peripheral vision was suddenly caught by a flash of light cutting through the dark forest.

He snapped his head around, his eyes burning like torches as he locked onto the source of the glow.

It was a greenish light, resembling a flickering flame.

Will-o'-the-wisps, commonly known as ghost fires among the common folk.

They were formed by phosphine gas released and spontaneously combusted during the decomposition of corpses after humans or animals died.

Generally speaking, this phenomenon was quite common in the mountains.

After all, animals frequently died in the wilds, and generating a will-o'-the-wisp didn't require overly complex or tedious procedures.

Yet, for this particular will-o'-the-wisp to appear right on the eve of the fox wedding...

He hesitated for a moment, pulled out the Illustrated Chronicles of Mountain-Walking Journeys, and flipped once more to the page detailing the fox wedding, carefully scanning the text.

Before long, he narrowed his eyes, lifted his gaze from the ancient text, and turned to study the "will-o'-the-wisp" closely.

Sure enough, that was no ordinary will-o'-the-wisp; rather... it was the foxes sending a signal!

Or rather, the foxes were letting the entire mountain know that a fox wedding was about to take place!

The Illustrated Chronicles of Mountain-Walking Journeys recorded that within three to four days leading up to the day of the fox wedding, from the fall of night until the midnight hour, foxes would place items in various parts of the mountain forest that produced phenomena resembling "ghost fires."

The purpose was to inform all creatures and mountain spirits within the mountains that the foxes were going to wed, and that they should prepare to celebrate and so forth.

As to what these objects actually were, the text provided no detailed description, leaving only a single cautionary note: Do not touch.

The ancient book contained one more piece of record.

That was, whenever this time came, all the foxes would appear across the mountain, and they would not return to their lair until after the midnight hour had passed.

Rubbing the light stubble growing on his chin, Zhang Hao narrowed his eyes and pondered deeply.

After a long while, he slapped his thigh.

Fine, he wouldn't sleep tonight. When midnight arrived and those foxes headed back to their lair, he would tail them.

Even if he lost track of this one, he could always tail other foxes; sooner or later, he would find their den.

Besides, this was his last chance.

If he failed to find the foxes' lair this time, it would only become increasingly difficult to locate them afterward.

Because over the next few days, both the "fox groom" and the "fox bride" would be busy preparing for the wedding, and all the foxes would cease all other activities, quietly awaiting the arrival of the wedding day.

It was safe to say that if Zhang Hao did not seize this opportunity to find the foxes' lair, he would have no choice but to leave things to luck on the wedding day itself.

Zhang Hao had no desire to rely on luck; he preferred to nail down every detail and fight a battle prepared.

With this thought, he crossed his arms and quietly waited for time to pass.

...

Crackle, crackle.

The campfire before him had finally burned out, and the firewood reduced to charcoal crackled softly.

Zhang Hao was growing drowsy, his eyelids feeling heavy and hard to keep open.

Without a phone on him, he had no idea what time it was.

But it certainly wasn't midnight yet, because that will-o'-the-wisp had not yet extinguished.

Yawn~

He let out an involuntary yawn, squeezing a few tears from the corners of his eyes.

Lifting a hand to wipe away the moisture, Zhang Hao’s gaze once again drifted toward the direction of the will-o'-the-wisp.

Immediately afterward, his pupils froze.

The will-o'-the-wisp had gone out!