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Tiny colourful orbs dance in the small town below, each of them fluttering and lively like petals of the peach-blossom trees standing behind the nine-tailed fox spirit. Carried by worshippers of the moon goddess, huge red lanterns too flow slowly down the main street and their incandescence reflect into the fox spirit’s icy-blue irises, resembling elegant scarlet hibiscuses floating on the surface of cerulean lakes.
A long time ago, the fox spirit would not hesitate to shred the lanterns and everything the humans love into a bloody mess, lifelessly strewn over the ground and trampled under his feet. Red, the colour of many beautiful flowers in the mortal realm and the spider lilies in the underworld meant only two things to the fox spirit then: food (throbbing hearts ripped out of screaming villagers) and hatred (fiery ocean of flames rising to the darkened sky as he thrashed frantically against the ropes binding him to the stake).
But now, red are the pairs of luscious lips he can never get enough of, the alluring shadows around the demon lord’s eyes, and the blush suffusing the cheeks of a beautiful human boy. Red is the presence of unfailing love and the warmth of happiness; for the first time in the long years, he allows it to bloom abundantly from the soil of his soul.
Still, he can’t fight the sigh escaping through his lips. The silence around him remains undisturbed, contrasting starkly with the roaring festiveness below, and it worsens once the wintry absence of a certain someone settles under his fur. Even when a tall figure, draped in a black velvet robe, approaches him from the back and slips warm fingers through his own, his heart sinks lower and his tails droop further with every second that crawls by.
“I don’t think he’s coming tonight. Like the many nights before.”
Bitterness seeps out with his words, and he doesn’t have to risk a glance at the one beside him to know that the demon lord’s brows are raised. He huffs petulantly, flinging the other’s hand away and burying his hands in the pockets of his white robe instead. It’s an overreaction and he’s too old to be throwing a tantrum like an immature fox cub, he admits, but the sun has gone through fourteen journeys across the sky since they last saw the human boy. Numerous nights spent under the moon’s luminance wondering and longing for one’s lover is certainly enough to put anyone in a disagreeable mood, what more a feisty and restless fox spirit.
Fortunately, the demon lord is patient, if not persistent in his own quiet way. Drawing closer, he presses a palm against the small of the fox spirit’s back while the fingers of his other hand card through soft dusky-lilac hair. Gentle as the waves caressing the shore, tender as the kiss of the first morning light on growing buds, this is how the stream of pure energy flows from the demon lord’s palm into the centre of the fox spirit’s life-force.
With a deep breath, the fox spirit allows the pulsing energy to untangle and chase the turmoil of unhappiness away from his soul. It doesn’t take long for a small grin to bloom on his face, accompanied by cheeks glowing roseately and bunched up at each side. Nine white tails spring up, finally freed from the heaviness of his discontent, and he uses one of them to tease a tickling caress under the demon lord’s chin.
Hearty guffaws immediately spill into the air and the fox spirit laughs along at the rare sight of the mighty demon lord attempting to squirm away from his tail, nose scrunched up in the way he adores. Their laughter swirls around them, perching on the wings of the northern wind-cranes visiting them tonight, and peach blossoms sway to the dulcet sounds of their delight. Once again, all is well on the Mountain of Night Sorrows.
Huddled close to the demon lord to keep the autumn cold at bay, the fox spirit recalls how three hundred years ago, on a starry night like this, he was rescued from the burning stake and brought to this mountain. Given a new lease of life, Kwon Soonyoung – the only surviving member of the celestial nine-tailed fox tribe – has since then found a new home in the demon realm and gained a family as dear to him as his own flesh and blood had been.
Most of all, his heart had been saved from the decay of revenge and despair. Time went on and he soon learned to find happiness and love in his new home, forming an especially deep intimacy with none other than his saviour and supreme lord of the demon realm, Jeon Wonwoo.
(And a human boy who is as golden and wondrous as the moon herself.)
“I know he’ll come tonight.” Under the cascading radiance of the harvest moon, Wonwoo’s voice is tender but firm, his words taking shape in the little petals falling softly onto his palm and adorning the fox spirit’s dusky-lilac hair.
Immediately, Soonyoung’s nostrils flare with displeasure and a scowl begins to storm on his face. Disagreement thunders in the three sharp syllables he spits out, like flashes of lightning forking across the sky. “No, he won’t!”
Hushness as thick as snow descends forcibly on them, and it is then the worst of Soonyoung’s temper dies down. Devoid of anything else to focus his heightened senses on, he can only gaze upon the disappointment clouding over Wonwoo’s mossy-green eyes before they look away, turning towards the small town instead. A soft sigh soon falls from Wonwoo’s lips - though soundless, the slow exhalation brushes against an invisible red thread tied around their little fingers, rustling within the fox spirit’s soul a simple tune that soothes the bristling fur of his tails.
Without anyone to play the bamboo flute as he plays the zither, without his favourite chess opponent, the demon lord must have been missing the human boy more than any of the demons or spirits on the mountain. But he chooses to keep his yearning silent, folding it into the walls of his heart till Soonyoung has forgotten that he too, harbours a profound love and fondness for the human boy.
Quietly, Soonyoung reaches out to clasp Wonwoo’s hand and in unison, their pulses drum painfully with longing for their lover. “I’m sorry. I know that you miss him as much as I do.” Clear waters cast back the truth it beholds, and the crestfallen smile barely lifting the corners of Wonwoo’s lips reflects in the vivid blueness of Soonyoung’s eyes. A similar curl of lips slowly creeps onto his face and on this night, the childlike fox spirit learns with a heavy heart that happiness isn’t always the cause of a smile.
“It is the celebration of the moon goddess and the mid-autumn harvest after all. I won’t blame him if he would rather stay on for the festivities with the other mortals than spend the night on this drab and dreary mountain...” Soonyoung’s voice obediently trails off when Wonwoo shakes his head, a wordless reminder not to compare the demon or celestial realm with those of the mortals.
Mortals live laughable short lives, but for a mere moment of forever carved onto their palms, they are willing to give up everything dear to them. Brighter than any celestial fire, their emotions burn; more intensely than the demonic sandstorms, their love rages through the ages. This is their downfall, the root of their pain and yet, the very reason for their joy and laughter, however fleeting and ephemeral.
The vivacity and boisterousness of the realm below will always be too irresistible to keep away, both demon lord and fox spirit know deep in their hearts. Like flies attracted to a deadly flame, they find themselves inexplicably captivated by the colours and marvels of a world they don’t belong to. Nobody understands one better than another, forbidden creatures standing outside the mortal realm looking in, and on this lonesome night, the warmth of their hands stretching over each other’s is a comfort they are thankful for.
Fastened to the sky with a host of irradiant stars, the moon hangs pendulous and august over the realms. Tonight, heaven and earth come together to revel in her silvery blaze, and the brilliance pouring down Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s crowns is especially relentless. The fox spirit is not easily won over though, grumbling under his breath about the “gloating orb up there” and suppressing a smile only when a chuckle is elicited from his companion.
Nonetheless, it has been said that as taciturn protector of lovers, the moon spills her abundant light across the land and brings hope into the hearts of those trampled down by suffering and despair - like the courage of Chang Er, the brave maiden who saved her people from a king’s tyranny and rose into the night sky, taking her rightful place among the twinkling celestials.
Or the rhythmic pitter-patter billowing in a gentle wind till it drifts into Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s ears, sounds they have long learned to recognize as the heavy footfalls of a human boy dear and precious to them. Their eyes widen in astonishment, allowing the boy’s silhouette to enter, and the bright smile gracing his face is perfectly captured in the depths of mossy-green and icy-blue lakes.
“Soonie! My lord!” Seeping through skin and bones, the cheeriness of his voice rumbles through Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s chests. Their initial surprise fades and replacing it is an indescribable joy that rushes to and stirs their hearts up once again. One, two, three steps bring him right in front of them but for the impatient fox spirit, it is never quick enough. Barely after the human boy has set down the bundle he was carrying, Soonyoung eagerly pulls him onto the seat and ruffles tousled golden hair. Though his cheeks are already reddened and warm from the journey, they heat up even more when Wonwoo reaches over and cups them with tenderness imbued in the touch. “We’ve missed you, Sol.”
Amber irises drip honey-gold ruefulness each on the demon lord and fox spirit’s face in turn. “I’m sorry that I’ve been absent for the past two weeks. I’ve missed the both of you too. There were just so much to prepare for my mother’s birthday and the mid-autumn celebrations, and I couldn’t bear to let Grandma Seo do all the work.”
Wonwoo and Soonyoung exchange a glance too fast for the human boy to notice. Everybody on this mountain knows Hansol will do anything for the old granny who took him in and cared for him ever since his mother passed away. This is a love that transcends flesh and blood, and no spirit, demon or mortal will ever have the heart to fault their devotion towards each other. (However, not even the perceptive demon lord can glimpse the actual strength of their bond, for it is the heavens’ will to bind old and young together till the fate between them runs out. The heavenly fate-spinners have destined it so, circling a golden thread around Hansol and Grandma Seo’s forefingers.)
“We’re just happy that you’re here with us tonight.” Tinged with a shade of gentleness rarely seen or heard in the fox spirit, Soonyoung’s voice falls over them, mellow and soothing like the first winter snowfall. Taking his lovers’ hands, he intertwines them with his in a tight knot that no beginning and end can be seen from, and the invisible red threads tying them to each other tangles even more, stretching and pulling taut as dictated by the throbbing of their hearts.
“Grandma Seo actually wanted me to stay till dawn, but I sneaked out after we burned the offerings to my mother.” For some reason, the moonlight limning Hansol’s frame with a wondrous splendour is particularly fond and loving, not unlike a mother looking down at her child with adoration shining in her eyes. He too, turns admiring eyes to the moon and it’s not hard to see the affections surging through his chest. “It is a beautiful night after all, and I’m sure she would like to spend it with Junnie.”
(For all his life, Hansol has always felt an affinity with the moon’s solitary presence in the sky. On the nights when he yearns for the parents he had never met, when nothing can stop the tears shed on his pillow, her light floods through the window and he goes to sleep with his face basking in her calming stillness. It is something he has never been able to understand, much less explain to Grandma Seo or his two lovers.
There is another golden thread on Hansol’s other forefinger but it is a story the moon keeps safe in her glow; just like all the secrets under the night sky, she will reveal it only when the time is right and the hearts are prepared.)
“I brought mooncakes for us to enjoy! Grandma Seo helped a little but I baked them myself.” As Hansol brings out a huge box from the bundle and lays it on the table, fascination glints in Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s eyes. Hundreds of years spent outside the mortal realm seem to lead up to this single moment when they finally have the opportunity to hold and taste the mortals’ famed mooncakes. Why are they called mooncakes? Do they really contain bits of the moon? Are they shaped as abundantly as the harvest orb? The questions swiftly flit through the demon lord and fox spirit’s minds, like butterflies among resplendent flowers, and they land delicately on the red threads, tugging an amused chuckle from the human boy.
“Looks like Grandma Seo already knew I’ll be sneaking out to spend the night with you; she packed the finest tea leaves for us to have with the mooncakes.” Hansol curls his fingers around the metal tin of tea leaves he found in the bundle, and his eyes glisten at the thoughtfulness and generosity of the old granny.
With a wave of his hand, the demon lord’s treasured tea set magically settles on the table in front of them soundlessly. Wisps of smoke stream undulated out of the porcelain teapot and three tiny cups sit on the tray, waiting for aromatic tea to fill them whole. It is Wonwoo’s steady and practised hands which Hansol releases the bamboo canister into, and from which the leaves are scooped into hot water; it is also his words that speak right into the human boy’s sentiments. “Grandma Seo has always been kind and giving to us. We will visit her tomorrow and thank her personally for this lovely gift.”
“That will be nice.” Hansol agrees quietly, his teeth peeking out behind a small grateful smile and the dampness in his eyes blinked away as quickly as it appeared. Such a sight is enough to ease the concern weighing down on the demon lord and fox spirit’s hearts, for it would pain them terribly to see their lover’s face drenched in tears and his heart lost in sorrow. Every soul on heaven and earth harbours a simple wish, that their loved ones will store only laughter and happiness inside - Wonwoo and Soonyoung are no different.
The delighted clap of Soonyoung’s hands is a welcomed intrusion of cheerfulness, ringing out loud above the mountain. There is also no stopping the faint grumble issuing from his stomach at the thought of Grandma Seo’s delicious hometown dishes, like his favorite spicy potato leaves with meat and Wonwoo’s preferred almond cloud cakes. Bursts of laughter rise and fall around him instantly and he whines in response, burying his reddened face into the crook of Hansol’s neck. The demon lord’s palm is pleasantly warm against his tummy but his sniffles continue to carry a dramatic touch, turning pitiful when the human boy giggles and gently pats his cheek.
“I wonder if a mooncake will be able to soothe the bellyache of a hungry fox?” Wonwoo wonders out loud, his playful gaze dancing over Soonyoung and his perfectly arched brow teasing a reaction from the other. Narrowed slits of azure guard the box of mooncakes fiercely in their regard and a white tail swiftly slithers across the table, laying a victorious claim and pulling the box towards the gleeful fox spirit. (Relishing his tiny triumph, Soonyoung fails to notice the black silk receding from the box and furling back inside the demon lord’s sleeves. But the darting blackness snakes through the sunset-gold oceans of Hansol’s eyes, and the knowing grin he shares with Wonwoo afterwards is another secret they keep from their lover.)
By the silvery moondust showering upon them, the red paper cut-outs on the box’s lid seem to come alive: Chang Er hand-in-hand with Hou Yi, the archer she loved ardently, as a pair of swallows lead them soaring over the houses and into the velvety darkness. The wind-crane fledglings too are lively under the guiding light, swooping near the trio and squealing merrily at the petals caught in the whirl of their mischievous gusts. Likewise, in time’s raging tempests, legends rise and fall - altering their shapes under the masterful tugs of a shadow puppeteer, taking on a new voice from the lips of a captivating storyteller. Through the shifting sands of his memories, Wonwoo recalls the story his father told him when he was a child refusing to go to sleep: “The maiden drifted to the cold palace of the moon, a place where her beloved archer could not follow her to. And so, they spent the rest of their lives - one in heaven and the other on earth - forever with the pain of separation carved into their hearts, forever their faces awash with tears.”
After the passing clouds, moonlight bursts forward and pierces the inky darkness; so do the glowing face of a lover and everlasting happiness assured in entwined fingers, after years of sorrowful separation… or at least that’s what the mortals choose to believe. Star-crossed lovers transformed into a pair of butterflies, magpies bridging the distance between the cowherd and the weaving fairy for a single day - mortals clinging to the hope that their happy endings will come with the dawning light. Foolish sentiments, Wonwoo used to scoff and scorn those who grasped too tightly what was always meant to fade with time, for there is no use fighting heaven’s will. But having Soonyoung and Hansol by his side changed everything, and he now understands. Who wouldn’t want to spend eternity with their loved ones, or to linger in the warmth of a beloved’s presence for just a little while more? If only the people we love could last as long, could shine as bright as the stars above always.
These thoughts weigh heavily on the demon lord’s head, shrouding a dense fog around his senses, but suddenly within his mind, a gentle tune arises and parts the thickness around him. Carrying an ethereal air, the song belongs to the ancient realm and it speaks of an everlasting love that will survive even the deaths of the sun, moon, and stars. On nights when the full moon hung high in the sky, it was this very song his parents would play together, their smiles as brilliant as the day they met each other for the first time, their love as endless as the pillars holding the skies up.
With a shrill squall, the wind-crane fledglings spread their wings and begin their flight back home, back to their mother lovingly calling out for them. As if sewn into the fledglings' feathers, memories of his parents slowly fall away from Wonwoo’s consciousness and his attention shifts to what is truly important at the moment. Lingering echoes of the zither’s strums stir the red threads tethering him to his lovers, while mellifluous notes from the flute weave into Soonyoung’s enthralled gasp and Hansol’s soft laughter.
“Are these the mooncakes?”
Sitting inside the box are four slabs, each baked to golden-brown scrumptiousness and each shaped in the perfect roundness of the moon. Ornate flowers bloomed on the top of the slabs and butterflies flitted gracefully around four characters that were exquisitely carved onto the pastries. The syllables gather and curl around Soonyoung’s tongue, gliding out in a puff of air as he reads slowly, “团圆顺好 (tuán yuán shùn hǎo)”. Blessed reunion, the phrase swirls in the autumn zephyr before it drifts and descends on them, settling sweet and warm into all of their hearts.
“We decided to make one for each of you, based on what you like to eat. That’s the great thing about mooncakes, you can choose different ingredients to include inside. Personally, I like those with double salted egg-yolks in them the best, it’s like finding gold with every mouthful! You should try some later.” As Hansol sets the mooncakes down in front of Wonwoo and Soonyoung, his heartbeats blossom in him a simple joy of being able to share his favorite food with the one he loves. The smile lighting up his face now is especially dazzling, the glow of his happiness so radiant that even the silvery goddess up there is put to shame and she has to hide her face behind a cloud.
He would have gone on to describe the many different types of mooncakes or the activities held during the festival, if not for the tears welling up in Soonyoung’s eyes. A worried frown immediately pinches the skin between his brows and his amber eyes sharpen, regarding the fox spirit with a gaze that is fiercely protective. His tongue feels heavy and tangled with words. Yet, he wishes to say something, anything to banish the tears away and bring the smiles back. But an almost imperceptible shake of Wonwoo’s head keeps him quiet; they know Soonyoung will speak when he is ready. All they can do now is press closer to the fox spirit, their palms laying on his arms comforting touches and a promise that they will always be there to catch him when he falls.
“I’m fine.” Soonyoung murmurs and though the tears in his eyes threaten to fall, he manages a small smile. “I was reminded of my older sister, that’s all. She was the only one in my family who had enough patience to teach me how to write. The first characters she taught me was my name. She said that even if you were to forget everything in life, you must never forget your name, for a name is a precious treasure our parents bestowed on us and it carries their blessings and wishes for us throughout our lives.” His fingers hover over the character “顺” on the mooncake and there is a familiar tenderness enveloping his hand, similar to his older sister’s firm hold around his. “I just never expected to see my name again, here, today.”
Looking out into the distance, Soonyoung’s gaze is lost between the boundless night sky and the folding mountain ridges. Wistfulness pulls at the corners of his smile. “Jie’s laughter was the most beautiful sound I’ve heard, they were like wind chimes tinkling under the stars.” What he doesn’t tell them is the way she would always laugh fondly at his elated yell whenever he learned a new character, how her smooth palms patted his cheeks - gentle, doting, as if she held the whole world in her hands.
What he doesn’t tell them too, is that he knows: the proud smile Wonwoo directs at him every time he masters the words the demon lord had taught him, the abiding warmth of Hansol’s hand curled around his at this very moment. Gone is his family, and until the time they step into the next life together, he will never be able to feel their presence, see the smiles on their faces, or hear the laughter escaping from their lips ever again. But he doesn’t feel alone in this vast world, for Wonwoo and Hansol are here with him, here forever, even after the celestial thousand-year peonies have shed their colors and coat the grounds with their fallen petals, even after they bloom once again across the realm.
(Silly child, time should not be wasted crying over the past, a female voice as soft as wind chimes whispers into the innermost chamber of the fox spirit’s heart, when you are very much loved now.
You have always been, by all of us.)
A cup of the most refined wine or tea poured out for the gods, an offering of the finest food in gratefulness to our ancestors - Hansol does all of this dutifully in the way Grandma Seo had taught him from young, placing one of the two remaining mooncakes on a patch of soft soil before pouring a cup of piping-hot guifei tea around it. Tendrils of steam rise at once in the chilly air and the tea’s fragrance traverses through the entirety of heaven and earth in just one breath, wafting into the noses of a human boy, a celestial nine-tailed fox spirit, a demon lord.
And a god.
The ground trembles under their feet and from the recesses of the mountain, a low resounding rumble rolls out into the echoing sky. To any mortal foolish enough to wander the forests after dark, the rousing noise may have sounded like the growl of a ferocious beast but the spirits and demons inhabiting Mountain of Night Sorrows know better than to be alarmed; they have long gotten used to the happy guffaws of an old mountain god merely enjoying the little delicacies Hansol brings from the mortal realm.
Even the mountain god approves of the mooncake! And so, a certain fox spirit can no longer keep his curiosity at bay, snatching the golden-brown pastry up with one of his tails and clasping it close to him in his hands. Immediately, he takes a huge bite and his eyes widen at the explosion of flavours and sensations unravelling in his mouth. Buttery skin gives way to sticky red-bean paste and each bite into the paste unveils more and more of the delightful surprises hiding within, such as the seeds, nuts, and berries he loves most.
“Sol, this is amazing!” Soonyoung bursts out between mouthfuls, unable to contain the bubbling blissfulness lifting his heart and taking his breath away momentarily. It is truly like nothing he has ever tasted before (surely, not even the Celestial Queen Mother’s Peaches of Immortality can compare!) and he can only marvel at the different types of sweetness held in this tiny moon - including the small fluttering in his heart when he realizes that Hansol had thought to add his favorite foods.
Though quieter, Wonwoo’s appreciation is not any lesser than the fox spirit’s. There on his face is a smile, shy but splendent in affection, and he hums an agreement with Soonyoung. Unlike Soonyoung’s mooncake, a honeyed white-lotus paste fills his instead and he is surprised to find that its sweetness complements the lingering astringency of the guifei tea. What is even more wonderful is the thin almond slices peppering the paste: “lightly roasted in an earthen bowl before they went into the mooncake, Grandma Seo said that this is the best way to infuse the scent of the woods into each slice” Hansol recounts, his fingers busy attaching paper lanterns to the handles but still, he doesn’t forget to regale the pair with details of the various preparations made for the festival.
Taking another sip of tea, Wonwoo’s eyes light up in wonder as a subtle note of cedar he has never tasted in previous brews begins to unfurl from the liquid. “This… is indeed magical.” Simple words he utters and yet, they are all he can say to express the amazement growing within him. Now he understands why, out of all the famed teas in the mortal realm, Grandma Seo has chosen to gift them the guifei tonight. Everyone knows there is none under the heavens which possesses the full richness and complexity of this particular tea, and thus throughout the lands, it also carries the name of “tea befitting the lonely king”. But on this night, it has finally found a perfect match in the mooncakes and together, they create an aromatic harmony of taste that is unparalleled in the world, unforgettable in all of eternity.
(Just like the trio who have found each other in fate’s mysterious ways, and whose bond is so strong that for them, there can never be anyone else.)
Swaying lanterns hang on the peach-blossom trees, the glow of their flames colourful and vivacious among faded pink petals. But to Wonwoo, the loveliest aureoles still belong to Hansol and Soonyoung: one, tethering lanterns to the trees’ thin branches; the other, using the fire dancing on his fingertips to light the candles of the remaining lanterns. They both glance back, beaming at Wonwoo with gladness, and though he longs to join them, he stays seated, preferring to savour for a while longer the warm pleasantness laying on his tongue and the overwhelming contentment swirling in his cup, in his heart.
Of course, the moment for peaceful meditation doesn’t last long. Wonwoo feels an insistent prodding at his feet and when he looks down, he is not surprised to find tugging on his robes, an animated paper lantern shaped like a rabbit. If that is not enough of a persuasion to join them, then Soonyoung and Hansol’s giggles are, pulling the red thread tied around his finger to where they are.
Accompanying Wonwoo’s every step to his lovers is the moon, appearing suddenly behind parted clouds and pouring her brilliance down on them. While others might deem her light smothering and vengeful (as though jealous of these mini versions of herself drawing more attention), the children of the town below are kinder to her. Their voices ride on the wings of the wind cranes up to the mountaintop but their songs soar even higher, reaching through the clouds and offering a precious gift to the lonely entity guarding over them every night.
Moonlight round, wooden bridge
She hangs high in the sky
Roaring waters are calmed
Drifting logs meet at sea
Loved ones are brought
Back to each other once again
This is indeed a time of joyful reunions for many families and lovers, and the moon keeps them together under her protective silvery glow.