As the weather turned from simply chilly to truly cold, Auntie Caihong’s lessons changed as well. Rather than learning about medicinal and alchemical plants in general, or how to make general healing salves and potions, Sen began learning about specifics. Ma Caihong pulled out charts that mapped the way energy should flow through the body that Sen was then bid to memorize. He learned about acupressure points and their uses in limiting pain and reducing bleeding. She started quizzing him about what he would use to treat specific injuries and why. Often these lessons became lectures that exposed why someone’s first instinct about how to treat something was all too often the wrong instinct. She eventually provided him with a notebook to begin writing down recipes for different kinds of treatments, as well as observations about the components he used.

“One of the things you’ll discover as you travel is that the local plant life is different, depending on where you are.”

Sen was startled by that revelation. “Really? Why?”

Auntie Caihong pondered for a little while before she answered. “There is a very complicated answer to that question that I’ll spare you. The simpler answer is the land and weather are different in different places. As you go south, for example, the weather gets hotter and it’s often wetter. The soil composition is different. That lets different kinds of plants grow there. The notes you take, though, will often let you find substitutes for what you’re used to using. If you can find plants with similar qualities, you can get by. If you’re near a city or town, you talk with local alchemists, spirit doctors, or apothecarists. They can often supply you with the right substitutes or at least tell you what you can get in the area.”

Sen could see the logic and began writing down key information about the components they used. As the weeks slipped by, though, he started fretting about the New Year. He needed to make or find gifts for everyone, yet he couldn’t come up with any good ideas. He eventually cornered Uncle Kho to ask him what kind of gift Ma Caihong might like. That conversation led Sen to spend two full days away from the house and up near the very peak of the mountain. Falling Leaf tagged along, seeming very curious about what he was doing. Sen was relieved that the other spirit beasts on the mountain left him alone for the most part on that brief expedition. He was only forced to kill one, some kind of multi-headed bird that had taken nearly half an hour of intermittent fighting to finally put down.

He'd seen a fox with several tails. Yet, unlike many of the other beasts, it seemed to be more self-aware. It had sat down and regarded first Sen, then Falling Leaf, but it made no move to attack. If anything, the beast seemed to find them humorous. Falling Leaf had responded with wariness, but no outright hostility. Judging that she likely knew better than he did about the fox, he didn’t attack. Sen and Falling Leaf eventually left with a lot of careful looks back at the fox. The fox watched them go without ever moving. Yet, for the rest of the day, Sen caught glimpses of the fox. Sometimes, he’d see flashes of its red fur moving through the increasingly thin covering of trees and dormant bushes. Other times, he spotted it sitting somewhere and looking at them.

“Should I be worried about that thing?” Sen finally asked Falling Leaf.

The ghost panther looked from Sen to the fox, which was perched up on a rock about fifty feet away, and then back to Sen. He struggled to untangle the mix of impressions that flowed off the big cat. He caught flashes of irritation, vague amusement, and still more wariness. The big cat took one last, long look at the fox and then actually shook her head. It was one of the most direct answers he’d ever gotten from her. He wondered if she’d broken through along the way as he had. He could swear that she seemed smarter and possibly even more capable than when they’d first met. When Sen was ready to set up camp on the second evening, the fox reappeared at the edge of the clearing that Sen had chosen. It gave Sen a long look and then trotted a short distance away. It looked back at him. He lifted an eyebrow at it. The fox came back to the clearing, gave him another long look, then trotted a little way off. It looked back at him again.

“I think it wants us to follow it,” said Sen, feeling less than enthusiastic about the notion.

Falling Leaf gave the fox a baleful look, made a discontented noise, and then trudged after the spirit beast. Sen frowned, then he trudged along in the big cat’s wake. The fox led them along for perhaps fifteen minutes. It looked back to make sure Sen was paying attention, then pawed at an innocuous snow drift. The fox backed well away and gave Sen an expectant look. Sen cautiously approached the snow drift, eyed the fox, and then used a bit of air qi to gently push aside the loose snow. When he saw what was under the snow, his expression turned from suspicious to incredulous. He glared at the fox.

“How could you have possibly known?” He demanded of the spirit beast.

The fox’s mouth dropped open and it spoke to a flabbergasted Sen. “Tell Ma Caihong that Laughing River wishes her an auspicious new year.”

It took Sen a second to realize that the fox hadn’t actually spoken out loud to him. It had used some kind of qi technique to transmit the words to him. Sen wanted to just feel stunned and baffled, but he supposed that these sorts of things happened to cultivators.

“I will,” he agreed. “Still, why help me?”

“Why not?”

Sen didn’t have a good answer for that, so he offered the fox a bow. “Thank you for your assistance, senior brother.”

That seemed to delight the fox, who immediately took on a playfully devious air. “Of course, now you owe me a favor. I’ll have so much fun collecting on it.”

Then, in a flash of red fur, the fox vanished. Sen realized he’d been staring at the empty space where the fox had been for most of a minute. He’d been trying to imagine what kind of favor he could do for a spirit fox. He hadn’t come up with any answers. Then, a thought came to him unbidden. Sen spun toward Falling Leaf.

“Can you talk?”

The big cat had a very guilty look in her eyes. Sen heard a little whisper. “Yes.”

“You can talk?! Why haven’t you done it before?”

Sen heard her sigh.

“It’s difficult. Usually isn’t necessary.”

Sen wanted to rant and rave at the big cat for not revealing that information. Yet, as he thought back about it, she wasn’t wrong. Very little of what passed between them would have been made better or substantially easier with speech. Still, he didn’t want to let her off too lightly. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“We’re going to talk about this.”

“If we must,” said Falling Leaf, sounding dejected.

With that, Sen turned back to the treasure that the fox had led them to and began harvesting it. Sen let Falling Leaf stew for most of the morning as they made their way back down the mountain. In the end, though, he just wasn’t that angry about it. It was even a little bit funny to him. He finally stopped walking and gave the cat a meaningful look.

“You should have mentioned it.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Well, just so long as you know,” offered Sen, as he started walking again.

“That’s it?”

“Did you want to talk more about it?”

Falling Leaf shook her head vigorously. Standing off where Sen and Falling Leaf wouldn’t notice it, the fox laughed to itself.