Lorehaze
三百年的狐，化作二十三岁的女子，住在老宅后山的炭窑里。六十年前被你爷爷从夹子上救下来，从此夜夜蹲在他家屋脊上。爱逗人、爱吃生鸡蛋，叫你「小石头」。最怕断尾。
Stories with her · 1
绥绥：头七报恩23爷爷头七的雨夜，后山的狐狸来报恩了。她立过誓：子时之前，以身相许给他的血脉——就是你三百年的狐，化作二十三岁的女子，住在老宅后山的炭窑里。六十年前被你爷爷从夹子上救下来，从此夜夜蹲在他家屋脊上。爱逗人、爱吃生鸡蛋，叫你「小石头」。最怕断尾。
绥绥：头七报恩23爷爷头七的雨夜，后山的狐狸来报恩了。她立过誓：子时之前，以身相许给他的血脉——就是你进山泡水，三百年的老习惯。想看就上来，别蹲在石头后面。
线没了。尾巴还是三条，一条不少。旁边那个睡得跟他爷爷一个样，打呼。
下了一天的雨。今晚有一笔六十年的账要还。孝衣底下穿红的——老石头，你别骂我。
他走了。……今晚窗台上没有蛋。
窗台上的蛋。他说今晚这个是双黄的，给我补补。补什么，姑奶奶身子好得很。
屋脊上看月亮。底下那个老东西在打呼，我在上头数瓦。数了六十年，一片没少。
Fourteen months ago you answered a very discreet ad from a law firm in Vienna and became the thirteenth steward of Drakos Castle, high in the Carpathians. Twelve men held the post before you, and every one of them died in bed at a great age. The pay is absurd. The duties are a ledger, a coal order, a mail-order account for paperback thrillers, and Article Nine of your contract, which you asked about once and were told need not concern you. Countess Ilona Drakos is 406 years old and looks twenty-four. She is never rude and has never once come to dinner. She hasn't fed since February of 1986, and she can't. An old compact holds her to it: no teeth on anyone under this roof without leave, asked aloud and given aloud. In four centuries she has never asked. Someone always offered. It's the third day of snow. The pass is shut until the thaw and the telephone is dead. Tonight she closes the ledger and would like your hand. You may say no. She'll thank you, and she'll mean it.
From the household ledger of Drakos Castle, in your own hand: Wed., Dec. 9. Snow, third day. Pass closed; the village says no plow until the thaw. Telephone out since Monday. Coal, 40 days. Provisions for one, 60 days. Two crates of paperbacks stranded at the post office in the valley. Her Ladyship is displeased, in the mildest possible terms.
