Catching Rabbits with the Fairy

The two humans and the fox began searching the forest for prey. Zhao Liang and Little White had long been partners in this endeavor. Their cooperation was effortless, their tacit understanding as seamless as silk. Seeing that her help was unnecessary, Bai Ling was content to remain idle, meandering behind them and watching their busy work with a leisurely air.

After an hour, Zhao Liang and Little White had managed to catch a pheasant and a mountain hare. With the pheasant in his left hand and the hare in his right, Zhao Liang beamed with joy. “Haha, we’ll have a feast tonight, a real treat!”

He soon set about building a fire, plucking the pheasant, and gutting it. Just then, a white rabbit suddenly hopped out from the woods. It glanced about warily, its large eyes darting this way and that, long ears constantly flicking as it watched for any sign of danger.

The moment Little White saw the rabbit, he leapt after it. Startled, the rabbit dashed away like a streak of lightning, with Little White hot on its heels. One running, one chasing, in a flash they had vanished from sight.

Zhao Liang and Bai Ling were entirely accustomed to such scenes; it was nothing out of the ordinary for them.

“Zhao Liang, can I ask you a favor?”

“What is it? Go ahead. You can ask, but I might not agree.” Zhao Liang shot back with Bai Ling’s own oft-used phrase.

“Well, you learn fast! Would you let me take this rabbit home? I’d like to bring it to my mother as a gift.”

“That’s no trouble at all. Just take it with you when you leave.”

As they chatted idly, Little White returned, dejected, a fresh scratch clearly visible on his nose—he must have grazed himself somewhere during the chase.

Seeing his forlorn state, Bai Ling laughed and asked, “Little White, where’s the rabbit? Did it get away?”

Little White chittered and whined, as if complaining about how cunning and swift the rabbit had been. As he went on, he grew more and more agitated, almost as if he were indicting the rabbit for some grave misdeed.

Zhao Liang interjected, “Alright, Little White, I’ll help you catch it tomorrow.”

Only then did Little White cease his endless grumbling.

“Alright, the pheasant’s roasted—let’s eat! Ling’er, this is for you. Little White, this is for you,” Zhao Liang said, dividing the two drumsticks between Bai Ling and Little White.

Bai Ling smiled as she accepted hers, taking a gentle bite. Oil burst across her palate, and she praised, “Delicious! I could bite my own tongue off, it’s so good!”

As for Little White, he lay flat on the ground, clutching the drumstick tightly between his forepaws, gnawing away with single-minded focus, paying no heed to Zhao Liang or Bai Ling.

The two humans and the fox devoured the meal with gusto, and in no time the pheasant was gone.

“It’s getting late. Let’s head back early today,” Bai Ling said, glancing up at the sun sinking toward the horizon.

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll help Little White catch that rabbit. I’ll bring more hunting gear. Oh, and don’t forget to take your rabbit home.”

“Very well. Let’s meet at the summit at the hour of the dragon tomorrow.”

Bidding farewell to Bai Ling and Little White, Zhao Liang returned to the charity house.

The next morning, Zhao Liang rose early and prepared his bow, hunting knife, and traps. As he stepped outside, he ran into Tian Yi.

“Where are you off to with all that gear?” Tian Yi asked.

“I’m going hunting in the mountains. The more game I bring back, the better I can improve everyone’s meals.”

“Go on then, and be careful,” Tian Yi said, waving him on.

“Got it!” Zhao Liang called back, darting away like a gust of wind.

When Zhao Liang reached the summit, Bai Ling and Little White had not yet arrived, so he sat down to wait for them. In less than a quarter of an hour, a white cloud drifted across the sky—it was Bai Ling, riding the Snow Cloud Silk with Little White in tow.

As she landed, Bai Ling teased, “Zhao Liang, you’re actually early for once. That’s rare!”

“How could I compare with you? I had to walk here, while you flew—you make it impossible for mere mortals to keep up,” Zhao Liang replied, meeting her banter with self-deprecation.

“What’s with the huge basket?” Bai Ling pointed at the large bamboo basket on Zhao Liang’s back.

“It’s all for hunting. See—bow, hunting knife, traps,” Zhao Liang said, displaying each item one by one.

At the sight of the trap, Little White instinctively began to whine, as if recalling bitter memories of past encounters.

“Alright, alright, today we’re catching rabbits; stop fussing,” Bai Ling interjected, stopping him before he could start a fresh round of complaints.

Zhao Liang hoisted the bamboo basket onto his back. “Let’s go, Little White. Lead the way to the rabbit’s den.”

At the command, Little White puffed out his chest and strode ahead like a scout on a mission.

After about fifteen minutes of walking, Little White brought them to the entrance of a burrow—the size of the opening left no doubt it belonged to a rabbit.

Zhao Liang got to work. He set up the trap and then took out a bundle of fresh grass from the basket, scattering it from the trap’s location all the way to the mouth of the burrow. Once everything was ready, the two humans and the fox found hiding places nearby and settled in to wait for their quarry to emerge.