The Little Fox's Immortal Cultivation Encyclopedia

Two days later, in front of the mountain god temple.

A muscular man with dark skin squatted under the shade of a tree, pulled off the white cloth that was placed on his shoulders, and rubbed his reddened shoulders.

After the mountain god manifested his power, more people entered the mountain. However, not everyone wanted to or was able to walk the mountain path. Seeing a business opportunity, the villagers of Taoxiang spontaneously commissioned craftsmen to make sedan chairs and started a sedan chair carrying business.

He was wiping his sweat when he suddenly felt someone pat him on the shoulder.

"Do I look like a human being?"

The man's lips twitched, and a curse welled up in his throat: "So early in the morning, are you trying to make fun of me in front of the mountain god? You..."

He turned around, saw the person in front of him clearly, and half a sentence got stuck in his throat.

She was graceful and beautiful, with narrow eyes staring at me, the corners of her eyes slightly upturned, and even without smiling, there was a hint of mockery in her gaze.

The man looked down. He was dressed in a fine brocade robe, but he had a dirty cloth bag slung across his shoulder. It was bulging and he didn’t know what it contained. There were also several chains wrapped around his wrists and neck.

"That outfit, that appearance." The man walked away quickly, muttering, "Where did this rich young master come from, acting all weird and trying to fool people?"

The young master was not annoyed; instead, he curled the corners of his mouth into a smug smile.

"Fox, stop playing around."

"The fox was just experimenting with illusions." Taking advantage of the fact that no one was paying attention, the fox withdrew its magic and revealed its true form.

Several bracelets were wrapped around each of its claws and wrists, with beads embedded in the soft fur. A bulging little cloth bag was carried on its back, not tightly bound, revealing several wooden bottle stoppers.

This bag was left here by a pilgrim. The fox waited for two days but no one took it, so it used it to store honey.

Big Willow was right at the fox's feet, and Snake had a small bundle tied to its back with a strip of cloth, urging the fox, "Let's go quickly."

A portly man in brocade robes emerged from the temple, carrying the scent of incense, and walked toward the sedan chair.

The foxes flicked their tails, concealing their figures.

"Hurry up and keep up."

The fox nimbly landed on the sedan chair pole and stood firmly. Big Willow followed closely behind and also coiled up on the pole.

The man waved his hand, and the sedan chair bearers lifted the sedan chair with all their might and walked down the mountain.

The dark-skinned man had just grasped the sedan chair pole when he felt something was off. He frowned and was about to speak when he suddenly felt a warm sensation emanating from the spot where the mad young master had patted him. It was fleeting.

The sedan bearers paused slightly, the sedan chair regaining its weight from when they were going uphill. He glanced ahead; his companions were carrying it without a care in the world, their faces showing no sign of distress. The man shook his head, assuming it was just his imagination.

The group strolled down the mountain, and the man in brocade paid the bill, walked to the carriage parked by the roadside, and climbed into the carriage.

"Go back to the county."

The coachman whipped the horse, completely unaware that two uninvited guests had appeared on the roof of the carriage.

The wheels rolled over the official road, causing a slight jolt. The man lifted the carriage curtain and gazed at the scenery outside.

The fox and the snake sat on the roof of the car, also enjoying the view.

A cool autumn breeze carried the scent of autumn, and the villages at the foot of the mountains receded into the distance. The plains were bustling with activity; farmers were either plowing and turning the soil or bending over to tidy the furrows—a lively scene indeed.

The carriage gradually picked up speed, overtaking many pedestrians. Occasionally, a few tall, magnificent horses would pass by and gallop away.

The stream flows down from the green hills, meandering along the mountain ravines before joining the river. The river then reaches a flat area and bends into a shallow pond.

The carriage slowed down as a large crowd gathered around the pond, creating a noisy scene.

"Erlang." Da Liu seemed to sense something and sat up to investigate. The fox also sat up and looked into the distance.

In the center of the arena was not Erlang, but a lean man who was banging a bronze gong so loudly it resounded:

"Everyone, young and old, ladies and gentlemen, whether you're walking, resting, riding in a car, or riding a donkey, look this way!"

"Our family's traditional insect and animal taming skills are nothing special, just something new and fun! If you have money, please support us financially; if you don't, just stand by and cheer us on—it'll bring us honor!"

"Watch closely! Today, with this sudden increase in size, even the Turtle Immortal will be heading to the Jade Pool!"

He slammed the gong, and an old turtle crawled out of the basket behind him, slowly walking towards the pond. Sounds came from the pond as well, and everyone peered out to see several masked turtles floating in the water, waving their arms and legs as if dancing, or perhaps welcoming him.

Upon closer inspection, the ornaments worn by those people were the images of deities often mentioned by storytellers.

The crowd immediately burst into laughter and pointed at each other.

The man cleared his throat: "The song and dance are over. All immortals, return to your positions and let us build the Spirit Tower together!"

The turtles lined up and climbed ashore again, slowly moving their bodies and stacking themselves into a turtle tower, arranged from largest to smallest.

There was a moment of silence, followed by a deafening roar of cheers, and a few coins were tossed out from the crowd.

Thank you all for coming!

The man bowed deeply, but did not rush to pick up the money. Instead, he bent down and took out two rough pottery jars, one tall and one short, from the bamboo basket and placed them on the table in front of him.

The table was a temporary setup, covered with a blue cloth.

"Let's talk about this big jar first." The man patted the jar. "An old gentleman lives inside. He's very learned, but he also has a big temper."

"Please keep your voices down, gentlemen. This old gentleman is about to start his lesson."

"Please, sir—"

A plump toad leaped out of the jar and landed steadily in the center of the blue cloth.

"The teacher has arrived, why haven't the students arrived yet?"

Seven or eight little toads jumped out of the small jar, huddled together, and hurriedly hopped onto the blue cloth, facing the old toad.

"Now that everyone's here, why aren't we starting class?"

He tapped the jar three times lightly. The toad's belly bulged and throbbed, emitting a muffled croak.

"Croak—"

"When the teacher speaks, shouldn't the students follow along?" He tapped the small jar again.

The little toads cried out in unison, "Croak—!"

Immediately afterward, the big toad croaked once, and the little toads followed suit with a croak, the sound never ceasing. The man was also explaining things to the side, composing poems for the toads, though they were just simple doggerel, they still subtly matched the croaking sound.

Laughter erupted from the crowd again.

Seeing that it was almost time, the man suddenly pointed at a small toad and asked, "What are you looking around for? Have you memorized your homework?"

The little toad paused, lowered its head as if ashamed, then suddenly jumped and burrowed into the small earthenware pot, never to come out again.

Seeing this, the giant toad let out an even louder croak, then leaped back into the large earthenware jar.

"Sigh." The man seemed disappointed and shook his head. "Alright, alright, the master is angry. We can only stop here for today."

The toads lined up and returned to the jar, and the man proudly clasped his hands in a gesture of respect.

A deafening cacophony of cheers and shouts erupted from the pond. Copper coins rained down, and many people even stood on tiptoe to throw their fruit and dry rations over.

The man, his face glowing, clasped his hands in a respectful bow to all four directions: "I'm making a fool of myself! May the tortoise and toad bring you good fortune, and may your homes be filled with peace, health, and endless blessings!"

The man in brocade took a piece of silver from his purse, called the coachman over, tossed it to the man, and then closed his eyes to rest. After about fifteen minutes of commotion, the crowd of onlookers gradually dispersed. Still amused, the passersby continued their journey in twos and threes, their mouths still buzzing with discussion.

The blocked road was cleared, and the carriage wheels started turning again.

No one noticed that the two small figures that had been on the roof of the car had long since disappeared.