Cao Zhou’s scholar, Li, was from a wealthy family whose residence boasted several acres of overgrown garden land behind the main house. One day, an old man came calling, seeking to rent the property, offering a price of one hundred taels of gold. Scholar Li, claiming he had no spare rooms, flatly refused. The old man insisted, “Please accept the rent money, do not concern yourself with space.”

Li, uncertain of the old man’s intentions, accepted the gold for the time being, curious to see what trickery the elder intended. A day later, villagers witnessed a continuous procession of carriages and family members arriving and entering the Li residence. Someone asked Scholar Li, "Your courtyard isn't that large; how is it that so many people have suddenly arrived?"

Scholar Li shook his head, saying, "I truly do not know." He hurried home to investigate, but the surroundings were utterly silent, not a sound to be heard.

Several days passed before the old man paid a return visit, stating, “Having settled into your esteemed residence for several days, I have been burdened with numerous trivialities—setting up fires, constructing stoves—that I have had no time to pay my respects to the master. To express my gratitude, this humble elder has prepared a banquet at my quarters; the young master must honor me with his presence.”

Scholar Li nodded and followed the old man into the garden. There, where flat earth had been moments before, lofty buildings now stood, entirely new. Entering the main hall, his eyes swept over the luxurious furnishings; beneath the eaves, fine wine was warming over a red clay stove, and wisps of tea smoke curled lazily from the kitchen.

Soon, the feast was served—a spectacle of rare delicacies, utterly extravagant. Boys moved constantly in the courtyard, girls whispered conspiratorially, their laughter echoing loudly. The number of family and servants easily exceeded several hundred.

Scholar Li’s heart was clear as crystal: this family must be fox spirits. He secretly harbored murderous intent.

From then on, Scholar Li frequently went into town to purchase sulfur and saltpeter, accumulating hundreds of pounds. He scattered these materials all around the garden and set them alight. In an instant, fierce flames roared skyward, dense smoke obscuring the heavens. The air inside the houses became thick with the stench of burning flesh, punctuated by shrill, agonizing screams rising one after another. Long after the fire subsided, Scholar Li entered the ruins to survey the damage. Dead foxes lay everywhere, countless with their heads charred beyond recognition.

As he examined the scene, the old man burst in, his face a mask of profound grief. He roared, “I held no grudge against you, Young Master, why did you destroy my entire clan? If this vengeance is not repaid, I swear I shall never be a mere demon!” With that, he departed in a fury.

Scholar Li worried about the old man’s retaliation and remained constantly vigilant. Yet, for several years, the world remained tranquil, and he slept without worry.

Time passed quickly until the early years of the Shunzhi reign, when groups of mountain bandits became rampant, gathering in wicked hordes, numbering perhaps over ten thousand. The government dispatched troops to search and suppress them several times, but each attempt failed utterly.

Because of his large household, Scholar Li was plagued by constant anxiety over potential raids by the bandits. One day, a fortune-telling elder arrived in the village, styling himself “Old Man of Nanshan.” His readings and character divinations were invariably correct, and he quickly gained immense fame.

Scholar Li invited Old Man Nanshan to his home for a private meeting, asking him to cast his fortunes. The elder regarded him with solemn reverence and declared, “The Young Master’s destiny is marked for nobility; you are a true Son of Heaven.”

Hearing this, Scholar Li was greatly startled, then laughed, “Elder, you must be joking. I am an obscure nobody; on what grounds could I achieve imperial destiny?”

The old man grew serious. “That is not so. Since ancient times, emperors have often risen from humble origins; countless men have built fortunes from nothing. Did any man born a Son of Heaven? Achievement lies in human effort.”

Scholar Li remained silent for a long time before finally asking, “How can I achieve supremacy? I beg the elder for guidance.”

The old man instructed, “You must disperse your wealth to procure several thousand suits of armor and thousands of crossbows, then gather able men and retain wise strategists as your counselors.”

Scholar Li smiled. “Elder, your talent is profound. If you do not disdain it, you shall be my Crouching Dragon. However, the matter of gathering forces gives me considerable pause.”

The old man offered, “Now that bandits swarm and occupy the deep mountains, this humble servant requests permission: allow me to venture into the wilderness to persuade the brigands to surrender. Simply spread the word that the Young Master is the true Mandate of Heaven, and the soldiers in the mountains are certain to rally to your call.”

Scholar Li was overjoyed and immediately sent the elder into the mountains to bring the bandits under submission, while he began forging armor and accumulating strength.

A few days later, the elder returned, announcing, “With the Young Master’s esteemed blessing, coupled with this old servant’s silver tongue, I have fortunately not disgraced my mission. The commanders of all the mountain strongholds have agreed unanimously to join your banner and await your command.”

Within half a month, several thousand soldiers arrived to pledge fealty. Scholar Li appointed the elder as his Chief Strategist, erected a grand banner, raised colorful pennants, established a stronghold in the mountains, and his burgeoning power sent tremors through the region. The county magistrate, hearing the news, dispatched troops to quell the rebels, but the elder directed his subordinates to strike, resulting in a massive victory.

The magistrate’s forces were defeated, and filled with dread, he urgently sent word to the prefect for aid. The prefect led a large army on a long march to suppress the uprising, only to be defeated by the elder’s command as well, suffering heavy losses.

In a short time, the renown of the bandits spread far and wide. Scholar Li’s army swelled to over ten thousand strong. He became exceedingly arrogant, proclaiming himself the “Nine Mountain King,” and bestowed upon the elder the title of “Grand General Protecting the State.” Daily they indulged in wine and song, brimming with overweening pride, convinced that the yellow robes of the emperor were just around the corner.

The elder then devised a plan to seize a vast supply of military horses. This news reached the prefect, whose fury erupted. He swiftly gathered several thousand elite soldiers and divided them into six columns to surround and annihilate the bandits. Scholar Li received the intelligence, his face paling with shock, and frantically summoned the elder for consultation, sending repeated calls, but the man was nowhere to be found.

The Nine Mountain King was helpless. He climbed the peak to look out, sighing, “The imperial military might is too great for me to withstand; the old man has ruined me.” Soon after, the mountain fortress was breached. Scholar Li was captured, and his entire family was slaughtered. In his final moments, he finally understood: the old man was the fox spirit, come specifically for revenge.