It was early November. Students were milling about, searching for books needed for essays or presentations, pulling them from the pristine white shelves of the Hong Kong University Fung Ping Shan Library, before taking them to desks that were already laid out with supplies that were necessary for their studies before sitting down, opening one and reading them, while at the same time make notes.
I was revising for a test on Chinese characters; my notebook and several of my class textbooks were open before me, and I was trying not to look at the lists of vocabulary for the dialogues we had covered in the last few classes.
I was also trying not to think about a boy I had recently met.
A couple of weeks ago, I had accompanied my aunt to the market to shop for dinner. Somehow my necklace had fallen off. It wasn’t expensive, but had great sentimental value to me because my paternal grandmother had given it to me just before she died. Before I could really panic, a young man had appeared with it in his hand. He’d fastened it around my neck, saying that I should be more careful with it. After that he’d disappeared into the busy market, but not without saying that he would be seeing me soon along with a parting wink.
But what baffled me was that that morning I had made doubly sure that my necklace’s clasp was fastened properly. So how could it have fallen from around my neck without breaking the chain?
‘Hello again,’ a familiar voice said from behind me, distracting from my thoughts.
I turned around. It was the young man from the market.
‘Hi! What are you doing here?’ I asked.
‘I’m a student here,’ he replied, smiling widely.
I mentally berated myself. As young as he looked, he had to be a student.
‘What are you studying?’
‘I’m in the Medicine Department. The Medical Library didn’t have the book I wanted, so I thought they might have it here. ‘What do you study?’
‘I’m in the Chinese for Foreigners programme,’ I replied. ‘And right now I’m practising for a character test I have the day after tomorrow.
He picked up the exercise book I had been using, half of its squared pages filled with characters, some better written than others.
‘You write very well,’ he commented.
‘Not at all,’ I said, Chinese modesty kicking in. ‘But you haven’t told me your name.’
‘Yin-Song Yu,’ he replied.
‘I’m Suzanne Willows,’ I said. ‘My Chinese name is Ji-Mei Liu.’
Ji-Mei was actually my middle name, which I used in Chinese class and on Chinese official documents.
‘Honest Beauty,’ Yin-Song murmured, thoughtfully. ‘I like it; a pretty name for a pretty girl.’
I blushed despite how cheesy he sounded.
A silence descended as neither of us really knew what to say next. But it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was strangely comforting.
‘I really to get that book,’ he said. ‘Will you be here when I get back?’
I replied quickly glancing at my watch to check the time. It was nearly two o’clock now, and I had to leave to go home at about half past four.
‘I’ll be here for a while,’ I replied.
He went in search of the book and returned a little while later, with a large volume. He set it down opposite me seat himself and taking out a notebook and pen from the messenger bag he carried. He opened the book, skimmed to a section he apparently needed and started making notes, while I went back to my revision.
We continued in this way for about hour, before we both coincidentally set down our pens and stretched.
‘Why don’t we get a coffee and we can talk?’ he suggested
‘I know just the place,’ I replied before gathering up my books and writing utensils.
There was a small café not far from the main campus that I went to occasionally with classmates to discuss classes and practise our spoken Chinese together. It was cosy and not too loud so we could hear ourselves think and talk.
After ordering our drinks, we found a couple of empty seats near the shop window. We talked about all sorts of things.
I found out that he liked a lot of the same music that I did, and we that we shared a lot of old fashioned values, which I liked. The more we talked, the more I found myself attracted to him.
Wondering about the time, I looked at my watch. It was now ten to four, and taking into account the twenty minute walk to the bay, I could catch the half past four taxi boat to Tsim Sha Tsui, where I would be meeting my cousin Kang-Lin. She and my aunt didn’t like me going home in the dark especially since we lived further out into the countryside from the city centre which meant there were fewer buses that did not come as frequently as those closer to the city centre.
Yin-Song offered to walk me to the bay, which I accepted.
We arrived with a few minutes to spare.
Displaying my ticket at the gate I turned to board the boat. As I said goodbye to Yin-Song, he suddenly threw his arms around me. I froze, but I let myself relax into his arms. They felt strangely familiar though I knew I had never seen this man before the market.
‘What was that for?’ I asked when he’d pulled away but still kept a hold of me.
‘I just wanted to hold you,’ he replied as he gazed at me.
His intensity made me nervous. Especially since no boy had ever looked at me the way he was now.
‘I have to go, Yin-Song,’ I pleaded.
He reluctantly released me, and I hurried onto the boat.
As the boat pulled out of the bay, I gazed back at Hong Kong Island, careful not to lean over the railing. I wondered if Yin-Song was watching the boat.
I looked down at the churning water, when for a moment I thought I saw a red string tied around the little finger of my left hand.
That night as I lay in bed, I felt a strange sense of déjà vu in my sleep. When I woke up, the next day I tried to remember what I’d been dreaming about. This wasn’t the first time this happened.
A few months ago I had been driving home from work, when I’d almost run over an unusual fox with white, almost silvery fur. As far as I’d known, the Arctic Fox was the only white breed in the world, and Hong Kong was nowhere near the Arctic tundra where they were found.
As it was too late to take him to the local vet, I’d taken him home. My aunt wasn’t too pleased with this, despite assurances from me that it was only going to be for a couple of nights until I was sure that he wasn’t injured.
That night he had slept on my bed by my feet.
Like last night, I don’t remember what the dream was about, only that I’d felt safe and warm like I’d been in strong arms that held so gently.
The fox had disappeared the next morning, so I don’t know if it’s alive or dead.
Over the next couple of weeks we spent a lot of time together, usually in the library. We didn’t talk all the time as we both had our separate studies, but like with our first meeting it never felt awkward. We just enjoyed the chance to be in each other’s company while we worked.
When had some spare time, he had helped me a lot with my studies. My written and spoken Chinese had improved even further thanks to his help.
He met my family, and they genuinely liked him which was more than I’d hoped for. My aunt had told me in private that I was allowed to invite him over anytime as long as I gave her notice and had finished the majority of my university assignments, if not all of them.
About a month before Chinese New Year, he’d asked me to be his girlfriend, which I immediately agreed to.
During festivities, he took me to see the firework display which I thoroughly enjoyed, but he’d had to cover his ears during some of the louder fireworks.
After the festival, my aunt and her family decided to Beijing for the weekend. They’d invited me to join them but I’d declined, as I’d invited Yin-Song for dinner.
While he’d waited for me to finish cooking, he read my latest assignment, correcting a few silly mistakes and wrote down alternative suggestions on some of my sentence structures.
After dinner, we settled down for drinks and a chat.
I’d gone into the kitchen for something, and returned to the living room only to find a stranger in the room!
‘Who are you? How did you get in?’ I demanded as I glanced around for Yin-Song, but he wasn’t in the room. ‘What have you done with Yin-Song?’
The man didn’t seem nervous or flustered; he just said, ‘You know me.’
‘Know you? I’ve never seen you in my life!’
Just then I noticed something strange. It wasn’t his clothes or his unusually long hair, but the unmistakable animal ears at the top of his head. They were triangular like a cat or a wolf. They couldn’t possibly be real, but he seemed to lack human ears at the sides of his head where they should be.
‘What are you?’
He smiled. ‘I’m a fox spirit.’
I couldn’t believe it. I’d read so many stories about fox spirits and had always dreamed of meeting one, but I never really thought that I would, as they were thought to be only myths.
He was so beautiful. Unlike his ears, his hair was inky black. His clothes were archaic-looking, seemed to be made of very fine silk.
Then I noticed his eyes. They were warm, and reassuring, just like…
‘Yin-Song!’
He smiled. ‘I knew you would recognise me.’
My mind was racing. Yin-Song was a spirit! My mind raced to little things I’d noticed but had dismissed. Despite these thoughts running through my mind, my eyes kept returning to his ears, which twitched occasionally on the top of his head. My hands were itching to stroke them.
‘May I touch your ears?’ I asked hesitantly.
He nodded.
Raising my hands to his ears, I began to stroke them, gently. Almost immediately, a quiet purring sound erupted from his chest.
Do foxes purr? That errant thought jogged my memory.
‘It was you!’ I exclaimed. ‘That fox!’
‘Yes, that was me. When I’m weakened or severely injured, I revert to conserve energy and heal. I changed to this form and I held you in my arms while you slept.’
So that was why he felt familiar to me when he hugged me that first time.
‘That dream was real,’ I realised.
‘I didn’t want to go,’ he continued. ‘But I knew you might become suspicious of me.’
‘Why did you reveal yourself to me?’ I asked. ‘You could have just let me believe that you were human.’
‘Because I care about you,’ he replied. ‘And I wanted you to see the real me. And…I think…no, I know, that you’re my destined mate.’
‘Destined mate?’ I repeated, a little perplexed. ‘As in soul mate?’
He nodded, ‘Yes.’
Just then I realised something else. ‘That day in the market, you stole my necklace to give back to me, didn’t you?’ I asked.
Yin-Song had the decency to look ashamed. ‘I needed an excuse to talk to you,’
‘How?’ I wanted how he managed to do it.
‘Fox magic,’ he simply replied.
I snorted. I should have expected that. Foxes were known to be trickiest of creatures in Chinese mythology.
‘Are you really a student at the university?’
‘I am. Despite my age I always find new things to learn.'
‘How old are you?’ I asked. You're not really twenty-five, are you?'
Yin-Song chuckled. ‘I lost count after I reached nine hundred.’
My eyes widened. I knew he had to be old, but I didn’t realise just how old he would be. I was the destined mate of nine-century-old fox spirit?
Just then something occurred to me.
‘How do you know I’m your…destined mate?’ I asked.
Yin-Song was silent for moment, seemingly contemplating his answer. ‘Do you know of the legend of the Red String of Fate?’ he finally asked.
‘Yes.’ It was said that couples who were destined for marriage were connected by a red string tied around their finger, no matter their age. That reminded me of when we’d first met; I’d seen a red string tied around my finger.
‘You’ve seen it too.’
I nodded.
‘These last few months with you, have been the happiest I’ve been in my entire existence,’ he said. ‘I don’t want this to end. I want you by my side for always.’
I’d heard similar speeches in countless romantic films, but to hear a man actually say it to me was incomprehensible.
‘You…’ Words failed me.
‘I understand that this is something you need to process,’ he said. ‘I will let you think on it.’ He pressed something into my hand.
And then he was gone.
If it weren’t for the object in my hand, I’d have thought he’d never been there.
I just sat there on my aunt’s leather settee. My brain felt like it was racing at a thousand miles an hour.
My boyfriend was a nine-hundred-year-old fox spirit who had just proposed to me!
That’s when it really hit me.
He asked me to marry him!
I was revising for a test on Chinese characters; my notebook and several of my class textbooks were open before me, and I was trying not to look at the lists of vocabulary for the dialogues we had covered in the last few classes.
I was also trying not to think about a boy I had recently met.
A couple of weeks ago, I had accompanied my aunt to the market to shop for dinner. Somehow my necklace had fallen off. It wasn’t expensive, but had great sentimental value to me because my paternal grandmother had given it to me just before she died. Before I could really panic, a young man had appeared with it in his hand. He’d fastened it around my neck, saying that I should be more careful with it. After that he’d disappeared into the busy market, but not without saying that he would be seeing me soon along with a parting wink.
But what baffled me was that that morning I had made doubly sure that my necklace’s clasp was fastened properly. So how could it have fallen from around my neck without breaking the chain?
‘Hello again,’ a familiar voice said from behind me, distracting from my thoughts.
I turned around. It was the young man from the market.
‘Hi! What are you doing here?’ I asked.
‘I’m a student here,’ he replied, smiling widely.
I mentally berated myself. As young as he looked, he had to be a student.
‘What are you studying?’
‘I’m in the Medicine Department. The Medical Library didn’t have the book I wanted, so I thought they might have it here. ‘What do you study?’
‘I’m in the Chinese for Foreigners programme,’ I replied. ‘And right now I’m practising for a character test I have the day after tomorrow.
He picked up the exercise book I had been using, half of its squared pages filled with characters, some better written than others.
‘You write very well,’ he commented.
‘Not at all,’ I said, Chinese modesty kicking in. ‘But you haven’t told me your name.’
‘Yin-Song Yu,’ he replied.
‘I’m Suzanne Willows,’ I said. ‘My Chinese name is Ji-Mei Liu.’
Ji-Mei was actually my middle name, which I used in Chinese class and on Chinese official documents.
‘Honest Beauty,’ Yin-Song murmured, thoughtfully. ‘I like it; a pretty name for a pretty girl.’
I blushed despite how cheesy he sounded.
A silence descended as neither of us really knew what to say next. But it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was strangely comforting.
‘I really to get that book,’ he said. ‘Will you be here when I get back?’
I replied quickly glancing at my watch to check the time. It was nearly two o’clock now, and I had to leave to go home at about half past four.
‘I’ll be here for a while,’ I replied.
He went in search of the book and returned a little while later, with a large volume. He set it down opposite me seat himself and taking out a notebook and pen from the messenger bag he carried. He opened the book, skimmed to a section he apparently needed and started making notes, while I went back to my revision.
We continued in this way for about hour, before we both coincidentally set down our pens and stretched.
‘Why don’t we get a coffee and we can talk?’ he suggested
‘I know just the place,’ I replied before gathering up my books and writing utensils.
There was a small café not far from the main campus that I went to occasionally with classmates to discuss classes and practise our spoken Chinese together. It was cosy and not too loud so we could hear ourselves think and talk.
After ordering our drinks, we found a couple of empty seats near the shop window. We talked about all sorts of things.
I found out that he liked a lot of the same music that I did, and we that we shared a lot of old fashioned values, which I liked. The more we talked, the more I found myself attracted to him.
Wondering about the time, I looked at my watch. It was now ten to four, and taking into account the twenty minute walk to the bay, I could catch the half past four taxi boat to Tsim Sha Tsui, where I would be meeting my cousin Kang-Lin. She and my aunt didn’t like me going home in the dark especially since we lived further out into the countryside from the city centre which meant there were fewer buses that did not come as frequently as those closer to the city centre.
Yin-Song offered to walk me to the bay, which I accepted.
We arrived with a few minutes to spare.
Displaying my ticket at the gate I turned to board the boat. As I said goodbye to Yin-Song, he suddenly threw his arms around me. I froze, but I let myself relax into his arms. They felt strangely familiar though I knew I had never seen this man before the market.
‘What was that for?’ I asked when he’d pulled away but still kept a hold of me.
‘I just wanted to hold you,’ he replied as he gazed at me.
His intensity made me nervous. Especially since no boy had ever looked at me the way he was now.
‘I have to go, Yin-Song,’ I pleaded.
He reluctantly released me, and I hurried onto the boat.
As the boat pulled out of the bay, I gazed back at Hong Kong Island, careful not to lean over the railing. I wondered if Yin-Song was watching the boat.
I looked down at the churning water, when for a moment I thought I saw a red string tied around the little finger of my left hand.
That night as I lay in bed, I felt a strange sense of déjà vu in my sleep. When I woke up, the next day I tried to remember what I’d been dreaming about. This wasn’t the first time this happened.
A few months ago I had been driving home from work, when I’d almost run over an unusual fox with white, almost silvery fur. As far as I’d known, the Arctic Fox was the only white breed in the world, and Hong Kong was nowhere near the Arctic tundra where they were found.
As it was too late to take him to the local vet, I’d taken him home. My aunt wasn’t too pleased with this, despite assurances from me that it was only going to be for a couple of nights until I was sure that he wasn’t injured.
That night he had slept on my bed by my feet.
Like last night, I don’t remember what the dream was about, only that I’d felt safe and warm like I’d been in strong arms that held so gently.
The fox had disappeared the next morning, so I don’t know if it’s alive or dead.
Over the next couple of weeks we spent a lot of time together, usually in the library. We didn’t talk all the time as we both had our separate studies, but like with our first meeting it never felt awkward. We just enjoyed the chance to be in each other’s company while we worked.
When had some spare time, he had helped me a lot with my studies. My written and spoken Chinese had improved even further thanks to his help.
He met my family, and they genuinely liked him which was more than I’d hoped for. My aunt had told me in private that I was allowed to invite him over anytime as long as I gave her notice and had finished the majority of my university assignments, if not all of them.
About a month before Chinese New Year, he’d asked me to be his girlfriend, which I immediately agreed to.
During festivities, he took me to see the firework display which I thoroughly enjoyed, but he’d had to cover his ears during some of the louder fireworks.
After the festival, my aunt and her family decided to Beijing for the weekend. They’d invited me to join them but I’d declined, as I’d invited Yin-Song for dinner.
While he’d waited for me to finish cooking, he read my latest assignment, correcting a few silly mistakes and wrote down alternative suggestions on some of my sentence structures.
After dinner, we settled down for drinks and a chat.
I’d gone into the kitchen for something, and returned to the living room only to find a stranger in the room!
‘Who are you? How did you get in?’ I demanded as I glanced around for Yin-Song, but he wasn’t in the room. ‘What have you done with Yin-Song?’
The man didn’t seem nervous or flustered; he just said, ‘You know me.’
‘Know you? I’ve never seen you in my life!’
Just then I noticed something strange. It wasn’t his clothes or his unusually long hair, but the unmistakable animal ears at the top of his head. They were triangular like a cat or a wolf. They couldn’t possibly be real, but he seemed to lack human ears at the sides of his head where they should be.
‘What are you?’
He smiled. ‘I’m a fox spirit.’
I couldn’t believe it. I’d read so many stories about fox spirits and had always dreamed of meeting one, but I never really thought that I would, as they were thought to be only myths.
He was so beautiful. Unlike his ears, his hair was inky black. His clothes were archaic-looking, seemed to be made of very fine silk.
Then I noticed his eyes. They were warm, and reassuring, just like…
‘Yin-Song!’
He smiled. ‘I knew you would recognise me.’
My mind was racing. Yin-Song was a spirit! My mind raced to little things I’d noticed but had dismissed. Despite these thoughts running through my mind, my eyes kept returning to his ears, which twitched occasionally on the top of his head. My hands were itching to stroke them.
‘May I touch your ears?’ I asked hesitantly.
He nodded.
Raising my hands to his ears, I began to stroke them, gently. Almost immediately, a quiet purring sound erupted from his chest.
Do foxes purr? That errant thought jogged my memory.
‘It was you!’ I exclaimed. ‘That fox!’
‘Yes, that was me. When I’m weakened or severely injured, I revert to conserve energy and heal. I changed to this form and I held you in my arms while you slept.’
So that was why he felt familiar to me when he hugged me that first time.
‘That dream was real,’ I realised.
‘I didn’t want to go,’ he continued. ‘But I knew you might become suspicious of me.’
‘Why did you reveal yourself to me?’ I asked. ‘You could have just let me believe that you were human.’
‘Because I care about you,’ he replied. ‘And I wanted you to see the real me. And…I think…no, I know, that you’re my destined mate.’
‘Destined mate?’ I repeated, a little perplexed. ‘As in soul mate?’
He nodded, ‘Yes.’
Just then I realised something else. ‘That day in the market, you stole my necklace to give back to me, didn’t you?’ I asked.
Yin-Song had the decency to look ashamed. ‘I needed an excuse to talk to you,’
‘How?’ I wanted how he managed to do it.
‘Fox magic,’ he simply replied.
I snorted. I should have expected that. Foxes were known to be trickiest of creatures in Chinese mythology.
‘Are you really a student at the university?’
‘I am. Despite my age I always find new things to learn.'
‘How old are you?’ I asked. You're not really twenty-five, are you?'
Yin-Song chuckled. ‘I lost count after I reached nine hundred.’
My eyes widened. I knew he had to be old, but I didn’t realise just how old he would be. I was the destined mate of nine-century-old fox spirit?
Just then something occurred to me.
‘How do you know I’m your…destined mate?’ I asked.
Yin-Song was silent for moment, seemingly contemplating his answer. ‘Do you know of the legend of the Red String of Fate?’ he finally asked.
‘Yes.’ It was said that couples who were destined for marriage were connected by a red string tied around their finger, no matter their age. That reminded me of when we’d first met; I’d seen a red string tied around my finger.
‘You’ve seen it too.’
I nodded.
‘These last few months with you, have been the happiest I’ve been in my entire existence,’ he said. ‘I don’t want this to end. I want you by my side for always.’
I’d heard similar speeches in countless romantic films, but to hear a man actually say it to me was incomprehensible.
‘You…’ Words failed me.
‘I understand that this is something you need to process,’ he said. ‘I will let you think on it.’ He pressed something into my hand.
And then he was gone.
If it weren’t for the object in my hand, I’d have thought he’d never been there.
I just sat there on my aunt’s leather settee. My brain felt like it was racing at a thousand miles an hour.
My boyfriend was a nine-hundred-year-old fox spirit who had just proposed to me!
That’s when it really hit me.
He asked me to marry him!
