Li Wuqi of Quzhou lived inside the city. He came of a great household; but the family’s fortune had fallen away, and he now kept the gate for other people’s houses.
On a night in the third month of the wuchen year of the Shaoxing era, the weather was clear and mild with thin cloud over the moon. He was lying alone in a small side room when something seemed to pass over his face. He started up, thinking the sky was already light. As it happened he wanted to go to the prefecture and present a plaint; so he put on his cap and gown and set off at a fast walk.
At the foot of the drum tower he listened for the watch: it was only the third beat.
He felt unsettled in his spirits, and wandered without knowing where to settle, walking back and forth in front of the Hall of Welcoming Spring. All at once a strange fragrance struck his nose. He looked up and about him, and saw a faint lamp-glow inside the hall. He thought it stranger still — at this hour of the night, how could there be a light there? He went up the steps to look.
It was a young woman of eighteen or nineteen, holding her own small lantern, standing alone against a pillar. Her bearing was surpassingly lovely. She came forward smiling and curtsied.
“Good fortune to you, sir.”
Li answered modestly and acknowledged her.
“Have you come today,” she asked, “to wait on the prefect and hand in a plaint?”
“I have. And may I ask what house you belong to, and what has brought you here?”
“I am the wife of Qiu of the Imperial Library, east of the city. I had been married only a few months when my husband died. My house and my ground have been set upon by the neighbours; they bully me so bitterly that I can get no redress. So I have no choice but to go to the authorities. If I had not come through the dark of the night they would certainly have waylaid me and turned me back. Circumstances make it so.”
Li was much taken with her looks, and her speech was clear and moving to listen to. He looked about: there was no one else. He could not hold himself in. He ventured a light word to draw her on, and she came to him willingly. Hand in hand they went into the hall, and were entwined.
In a little while the east was white. The prefecture was receiving plaints. The two of them waited until the rulings were done, and then parted. She appointed the same hour that night.
They met again before the hour, and so it drifted on for more than thirty days.
Li’s household were surprised at his going out night after night, and suspected an intrigue. They told some of the local good-for-nothings and set them to catch him at it. They took him behind the Hall of Welcoming Spring, lying with the woman. With a shout they all rushed forward, and both were seized.
The woman wrenched her arm free. She cried out — and was a blue fox, running for the gate. The crowd panicked and gave chase, and there was nothing at all to be seen.
