The Fox Spirit

There's a tale of a fox who used to roam around our village. They said it would take a form of a beautiful woman and seduce men. And sometimes, it would take a form of a man and seduce women.

That would explain all the disappearances in our village and all the villages nearby. There were always people missing never to be seen again. People blamed the demon fox spirit. They warned everyone not to go to the forest at night and never go anywhere alone. They especially warned not to trust a beautiful person who tries to lure you alone.

"Hurry up Hana!" Called mother from the kitchen. "Your father will be home soon and he's going to be hungry."

"I'm coming." I answered. I was busy finishing up the thread on the silk dress mistress Jiaying entrusted us to fix.

When I'm not busy helping mother with chores, I use my free time as a seamstress and make a little bit of money doing it.

I ran over to the small kitchen, the aroma of mother's cooking wafted the entire house. It smelled of vegetable, rice, and meat. She was busy cutting more vegetables on the table and wanted me to check on the rice. Mother likes to make a feast for supper since it's the meal the entire family shares together.

"Check on the rice Hana, you know your father don't like his rice hard."

He's not my father. My real father died from tuberculosis when I was young. He's my stepfarther. Mother remarried when I was five. She had me so young that by the time she became widowed, she's only in her early twenties and still in her youth.

Mother is beautiful – that's why she never had a problem marrying again. It took my stepfather one look at her and fell in love.

He was also a widow. So, it was almost as if it was meant to be.

Mother swooned whenever she talked about them falling in love. How handsome and charming he was, and I would always wince because the memory imbedded in my mind is completely different from how she sees him.

Outside, he's a pleasant man. Stepfather treated me like his real child. I think it's because he loved my mother so much that he'd love everything that comes with her. Even a child from another man. I was just thankful I took after mother's looks because who knows what could have been if I looked like my father.

His son on the other hand…not so much.

Yoon acted like I was a burden and he never wanted me around.

He never spoke to me unless he must, never looked at me, never acknowledged I existed.

I don't know what his problem is. Why is he so cold?

He was always polite to my mother but treated me like I'm a stepchild.

Wait a minute…..

I am a stepchild.

When Yoon was fourteen, he got lost in the jungle and it took stepfather and other men from the village days to find him.

Stepfather was scared. He scoured the jungle day and night afraid the demon fox might've eaten him.

It turned out he tried to elope with a girl from the neighboring village.

Then all I remember were the cries and whimpers. The grunts stepfather made every time the tip of his whip landed Yoon's back. I've never heard such horrible cries. Such pitiful scream of pain that both Yoon and I wished the beating would stop. 

The sound of his cries still haunted me till this day.

I've never looked at my stepfather the same. It became clear that he is the kind of man who's capable of doing terrible things. No loving person would treat his child like that.

It was up to mother and I to tend to Yoon's wounds after stepfather was done. His back layered with cuts, some are deep and some are just red lines that laid over on top of each other. I saw cross marks where stepfather's whip landed over and over and felt sick to my stomach.

I think stepfather only stopped after Yoon passed out. I remember the look of relief on his face when he picked up Yoon's wrist and felt his hollow pulse. Only then stepfather backed off. He folded his whip and carried it in his hand as he left Yoon unconscious on the bloodied floor.

Yoon did not wake up until the next evening.

And even then, it took a few days for him to recover. Yoon kept passing in and out. His fever was so high at times that he just groaned in pain in bed unable to move around.

 "Are you okay, Yoon?" I asked by his bedside. I was twelve at the time.

Yoon looked at me, anger seeped in his tired eyes. "Get out of my room Hana, I don't want you here."

Yoon had become a different person after that day. He had gotten beatings from his father before but never this bad. The relationship between stepfather and him never mended. Yoon spent the rest of his time either locked up alone in his bedroom  or away.

At times I saw him practicing his martial arts in the yard and sometimes I saw him engrossed in stacks of books.

Yoon learned books and weapons. He used it as a ticket to get away from us. By the time he was seventeen, he joined the imperial army and made his way becoming a scholar.

Now he's all stepfather could ever talk about. How proud he is of his son.

"Moon, you better prepare a feast!" Greeted stepfather excitedly to my mother as soon as he came home.

Mother rushed out of the kitchen with an eager look on her face. "Why, what's the occasion, Heung?"

"Yoon is coming home for a visit."