Chapter 22: The Straw Stack

The farmer Tian had a stack of straw as big as a hill, and a fox lived in it. He told them so himself, standing in his frozen yard on the twenty-second of the month with his hands tucked in his armpits, a broad red-faced man in a sheepskin coat, while his three children peered round the doorpost of the farmhouse behind him in descending order of height. "Six years," he said. "Since my father died. He's a very good neighbor. He keeps the rats down and he tells the children stories." "Has he done any harm?" "When my wife was sick last winter he brought a doctor from somewhere," said the farmer, "and the doctor wouldn't take any money." He shrugged. "He's never hurt anybody." "Someone filed a complaint," said Ming. "Who?" She looked at the red paper in her hand. A fox dwelling in the straw of the…