“The Ten Fairy-Tales of Hua Yong” – The Fox Hotel (Part I): Mr Fox Hua’s hotel gives a half-price room to one guest only—the tiger, Mr Sheng.
“Have you heard? The Forest H Hotel has opened—right on the highest ground in the woods! The view is gorgeous!” The squirrel, cradling a nut, chattered about the big news.
“How could I not know?” the woodpecker paused mid-peck and glared. “I not only heard—I went for a look!”
“Really?” The sika deer lifted her head, eyes full of longing. “I want to see it too, but the little bear next door says it’s expensive—two jars of honey won’t even pay for one night.”
“It is pricey,” the woodpecker admitted, “but worth it—super-luxurious! Even the guides are the prettiest white doves in the forest.”
“I heard the owner’s a beautiful, delicate fox.”
“Hah, I caught a glimpse on opening day,” the woodpecker said smugly. “Only through a window and from afar, but—quite a sight.”
“Wow?” The deer pressed. “How so?”
“Well…” The woodpecker tapped the trunk twice with his beak, thinking. “Outstanding. Beautiful in a way that feels like a riddle.”
“I want to go,” the squirrel sighed. “Even if I have to save up—just to spend a night and meet that handsome Mr Fox.”
“Who doesn’t?” The deer sighed too. “I heard even the tiger king—fussiest guest in the forest—moved into H Hotel and never wants to leave.”
Perched on the highest ridge, H Hotel sprawls in several Roman-style villas linked by long corridors and stairs. Opulent décor, lights blazing day and night; even the lobby’s tiled floor reflects a life of pampered splendor.
A refined fragrance of the upper class permeates the constant, dewy air-conditioning, putting every deep-pocketed guest at ease. This is no place for country bumpkins. Yet even frequent guests seldom glimpse the proprietor, Mr Hua. Apart from cutting the ribbon on opening day, he has hardly appeared in public.
A discount notice
“One-half off for local tigers?” On this day the wolf king of the neighboring forest, Mr Shen, arrived with his beloved little white rabbit, Ms Gao, to stay. Spotting the notice at reception, he bristled. “Why do local tigers get half price? Treating hometown tigers special and discriminating against out-of-town wolves?”
“It’s not like that, sir,” said the goat duty-manager, immaculate in her uniform. “That’s a private rule of our owner.” Lowering her voice she added, “On opening night the tiger king checked in. No one here dares offend a tiger. Our boss tried to greet him and was turned away. To keep the peace he made the rule.”
“I recall there’s only one tiger family in this forest—the Shengs?”
“Exactly.” The goat straightened, business smile in place. “We’re a large enterprise with large ambitions; we can’t afford to cross local nobility.”
“Oh, really?” Mr Shen slapped his titanium black card on the counter. “So you can afford to cross me but not the Shengs?”
Everyone knew the Shen wolves and Sheng tigers had long been at odds. The usually smooth-tongued goat had stepped into a quagmire; in the end she could only summon the owner to defuse the crisis.
The appearance of Mr Fox Hua
The woodpecker hadn’t lied—Mr Fox Hua’s face could make hearts skip. He hurried in, no affectation yet brimming with poise, a russet-bronze silk suit draped casually over him, an orchid brooch on his lapel glittering like a polished gem.
His soft, fluffy hair just brushed his ears; under the lobby’s crystal chandeliers it shone so dark it was almost blue. His skin was porcelain-pale, as though the sun had never touched it. Pausing by the bar’s sofa, he looked perfect enough to have stepped out of an oil painting.
“Good evening, Mr Shen.” Even his voice was lovely—cool in timbre, the tail-notes drawn out with an innocence unsated.
“Evening.” Shen Wenlang tightened the arm around Gao Tu’s shoulders—staking claim and soothing the little rabbit, prone to self-doubt.
Hua Yong looked down slightly, eyes faintly aloof yet smiling. “Mr Shen, you’ve come a long way. Surely not to make trouble?”
“I’ll be brief.” Shen Wenlang waved the metal notice. “Why is only Sheng paying half?”
Hua Yong seemed momentarily stumped; his raven lashes dipped. Gao Tu noticed the fox’s brows tighten, eyes flash cold—then soften again.
“Because I like him,” he said lightly. “I’m footing the difference. Any problem?”
“Favoring one, slighting the rest—that is the problem.” Shen Wenlang rose. “I want a discount too.”
“No.” Two crisp syllables from perfect lips—beyond negotiation.
Shen’s smile iced over; the predator’s glare flashed. “Why not? Because you like him and not me?”
Glancing at the pale rabbit beside him, Hua Yong suddenly laughed. “What—do you want me to like you, too?”
Damn it—just asking for a discount, what’s with the flirtatious talk? Afraid his “heart-rabbit” would misunderstand, Shen squeezed Gao Tu’s cold paw, then turned and kicked over the trash can with a bang.
The goat manager, usually unflappable, blanched. “S-sir, please…” Her shout drew every eye in the lobby—including those of the tiger king himself, Sheng Shaoyou, who had just emerged from his private elevator, attendants in tow.
“What’s going on?” asked Mr Sheng, lord of the forest.
His aide Chen Pinming bowed. “Seems there’s an argument, sir.”
“Oh?” The great cat lifted languid eyelids. “Who is it?”
Subtext: Who dares cause trouble under my nose?