The Foolish Princess and the Fox’s Little Mouse

To my astonishment, the trembling creature in the child’s hands turned out to be none other than A-Bao, the little rat who had once abandoned me and fled for his life.

Hai Qing watched our reunion with wide, puzzled eyes. “Sister Qiao Qiao,” she asked curiously, “why does Tangyuan—my pet—seem so afraid of you? He never likes to eat the food I prepare for him.”

I gently poked at the shivering ball of fur. “You call him Tangyuan? What a nice name.” I gave her a sly grin. “You know, Tangyuan tastes even better fried—crispy on the outside, fragrant inside. One bite and it melts in your mouth… mmm…”

Before I could finish, Hai Qing gasped in horror and snatched A-Bao from my hands, clutching him protectively to her chest. “You can’t eat my Tangyuan!”

A-Bao, ever the drama king, covered his tiny eyes with both paws and let out a pitiful whimper, as if his heart had just been broken in two.

I clapped my hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine, I won’t eat him. Go on and feed him your wonderful food. It’s so nutritious, I’m sure you’ll soon have him plump and round as a dumpling. When he can’t even walk anymore, we’ll just change his name from Tangyuan to… Meatball, how about that?”

Hai Qing’s eyes lit up. “R-really?”

A-Bao let out a long squeak of despair and trembled all over, his whiskers twitching miserably.

I decided to get to the bottom of it. “So, where did you find him?”

It turned out that a few days ago, when A-Bao had escaped from prison through a mouse hole—leaving me behind to face the guards—he had stumbled upon Hai Qing, who at that time had just run away from home. She wasn’t yet the ragged beggar she appeared now. Her pockets had been bulging with gold, silver, and gemstones.

Naturally, A-Bao, ever the opportunist, wasted no time securing his next meal ticket. With his soft fur and pitiful eyes, he quickly won her heart.

Hai Qing adored him—but everyone shows love differently. What is sweet ambrosia to one is poison to another. Hai Qing’s way of loving was… cooking. With the finest ingredients and the most inexplicable methods, she produced one deadly feast after another for her beloved pet.

In just a few days, poor A-Bao had grown noticeably thinner; his once-round bottom had flattened into something resembling a deflated bun.

Now, seeing me again, he must have thought he’d glimpsed salvation. However cruel I might be, at least I never tried to feed him to death. So, with a desperate squeak, he bolted toward me—only to be smacked flat against the ground by Hai Qing’s palm.

Holding him by the tail, she sighed with heartbreak. “I treat Tangyuan so well… why does he always want to leave me?”

A-Bao squealed weakly and rolled his eyes heavenward.

I coughed into my sleeve. “Well, he does know you’re kind to him. But, as they say, a good woman won’t serve two husbands, and a good dog won’t serve two masters. It’s the same with rats, I suppose. This A-Bao—your Tangyuan—already has an owner. He’s just… lost his way for a bit. It’s not right to make him forget where he came from.”

A-Bao nodded vigorously in agreement, his tail twitching like punctuation.

Hai Qing’s eyes began to redden. “But… but I treat him better than his old master ever could. If that person truly cared for him, how could they lose him in the first place?”

I rubbed my nose, feeling slightly guilty. “Ah… well, actually, his master entrusted him to me. It was I who lost him. His owner is very fond of him, though—if they knew he’d gone missing, they’d be heartbroken.”

Hai Qing hesitated, looking between us—me and the rat—and finally sighed. She placed A-Bao carefully in my palm. “Sister Qiao Qiao, Tangyuan is a clever little thing. Please, take good care of him.”

I hummed an assent and tucked A-Bao safely into my sleeve.

We lived together for two more days. Only then did I learn that Hai Qing was not some street beggar at all, but a runaway rich girl. She survived by trading away valuables for food and trinkets.

I watched, speechless, as she pulled from her pocket a thumb-sized luminous pearl and exchanged it for two thin pancakes. Later, she handed over a flawless jade bracelet for a crude clay figurine—and hugged the figurine to her chest like treasure.

Each trade left her utterly pleased. She even explained her logic with earnest conviction. “Jewels and ornaments are only good to look at,” she said, “but when you’re hungry, they can’t fill your belly; when you’re thirsty, they can’t quench your thirst. These sugar-coated hawthorns are so much prettier—and tastier! They’re worth far more than pearls.”

I couldn’t help but sigh. This must be what they mean by ‘why don’t they eat minced meat’.

Her innocence was almost dazzling—an unmistakable mark of the sheltered and the wealthy. She was certainly the daughter of some noble family, perhaps even a high official.

So, one evening as we shared a small fire, I gently prodded, “When will you go home? Surely your family must be worried sick. Maybe… we could travel back together.”

She turned away, biting her lip. “I’m not going home! If Father can scold me for the sake of some woman, he can just as easily hit me for her too! Hmph. I’m his only daughter—he must be panicking right now. Let him panic. That’ll teach him not to treat me like that again.”

I stared at her, half amused, half exasperated. “You child… you really are too naïve. Think about it. Your father’s still young, strong, and perfectly capable of—well, fathering more children. You’re his only daughter now, but what if all those concubines of his get pregnant? What will you do then? When you have little brothers and sisters running around, will you still be so sure of your place?”

Her mouth fell open. “R-really?”

I nodded solemnly. “As true as gold. Especially in wealthy families like yours—concubines always climb higher through their children, pushing aside the rightful heirs. You’re still young, and without a mother to protect you… that makes you an easy target.”

“Waaah!” she cried, flinging herself into a panic. “No! I don’t want that!”

She began stuffing her few belongings into a bundle with frantic hands, muttering all the while. But just as she slung the bag over her shoulder, she froze. Covering her face, she groaned, “But… but if I go back now, after running away like that, it’ll be so embarrassing!” She peeked at me through her fingers. “Sister Qiao Qiao, is there a way I can go home without looking like a fool?”

I nodded gravely. “There is.”

Her eyes shone. “What way?”

“Dream about it.”

She stomped her foot. “Sister Qiao Qiao!”

I spread my hands helplessly. “It’s just going home. Must you make such a drama out of it?”

She lifted her chin proudly. “You don’t understand. This is about a princess’s dignity.”

I blinked. “A what now?”

“A princess,” she repeated, rolling her eyes.

My knees nearly gave out. So that was it! No wonder her name had sounded so familiar. This “beggar girl” was none other than the missing princess who had fled the palace!

No wonder her pearls and jade looked so fine. No wonder her manners, even beneath the dirt, screamed refinement.

The realization hit me like thunder. If she returns home, I’ll have a way into the royal palace myself! Heaven was handing me an opportunity on a silver platter.

I was just about to lunge forward and cling to her leg in delight when a shadow fell over us. The air grew heavy—then a loud, booming voice erupted above our heads:

“This mountain’s mine, that tree’s mine.
You want to pass? Pay the toll or die!”

I barely had time to turn before something huge and rough slammed into me.

Hai Qing watched in horror as I was scooped up like a sack of grain and stuffed into an actual sack. From the darkness of the trees emerged a dozen towering men, each broader than an ox and armed with machetes gleaming in the sun.

The largest of them slung the sack—me—over his shoulder and turned to Hai Qing. “This the dumb girl who’s been trading jewelry for food?”

A scrawny fellow squinted at her. “Looks like her. Then again, beggars all look the same. Maybe she ain’t.”

The leader shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Grab her anyway. We’ll sort it out later.”

Another bandit chuckled. “She’s small. Just tuck her under your arm—easy enough.”

Hai Qing blinked, realizing at once what they were up to. She stepped forward eagerly, eyes shining. “Are you… are you robbers?”

The bandits exchanged confused glances. Before any could answer, she bounded straight into an empty sack, wrapped the rope around herself, and tied it neatly in a bow. “When you rob people, don’t you have to notify their parents? Then they bring ransom money, right?”

The men stared at her, dumbfounded.

She continued, voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “You’ll need to write a ransom note, yes? And exchange a token? I have a jade pendant here—take it! Include it with your letter, and my father will know I’m with you.”

The bandits looked at each other again, half awed, half terrified.

“Is she for real?” one muttered.

“Definitely a fool,” said another, wiping sweat from his brow.

The one holding the sack tied it shut, leaving just a small hole for air.

“Boss,” he said to a burly man in a fur cape with a bald head, “what if she really is stupid? Maybe her family tossed her out to begin with.”

From inside the sack came a muffled protest. “I’m not stupid!”

The bald leader frowned. “We’ve got rules, remember? We don’t rob the old, the weak, or the sick. If she’s truly an idiot, she counts as disabled. Off-limits.”

“I said I’m not stupid!” came the indignant squeal from within.

The bandits fell into a heated debate, arguing morality and logistics, until—

A soft laugh drifted from above. The wind picked up, scattering dust and sand into their eyes. When they blinked away the grit, the sack was still lying there on the ground, neatly tied… but the little beggar girl inside was gone.