This Humble One Doesn't Understand the Scripture's Intent, But Has a Basic Grasp of Fire Arts

Life in the Temple was somewhat monotonous, but Shen Hui found it surprisingly bearable.

He had developed a habit: each day, just before dawn broke, he would rise and walk to the back mountain.

Along the familiar path he had trodden countless times, through the leafless forest, he watched the morning sun slowly arch over the eastern peak, dyeing the snow-covered ground a stretch of golden red. Then he would strip off his clothes, soak into the water, close his eyes, and begin that day's cultivation.

Three hours later, he would rise, dress, and retrace his steps back.

The remaining time was spent practicing techniques.

He trained most diligently in the arts of wind and fire—forming hand seals and chanting incantations. With a single thought, the flames could condense into a thread, scatter into a net, or gather into a demon's head, all at his whim.

He also practiced the Aura Observation Art daily, though he dared not use it for long—just a few glances before stopping.

Although each use still left him dizzy and lightheaded, he gradually managed to endure for longer stretches.

More often than not, he was reading.

All kinds of books.

Geography records, illustrated catalogs of Demons and Monsters, common spells and their counters, rumors from the martial world, tales of extraordinary people and strange events.

He had flipped through every book on Third Senior Brother's shelves and skimmed most of those belonging to Second Senior Sister.

In comparison, Second Senior Sister's collection was far more orthodox than Third Senior Brother's—nearly seven or eight out of ten volumes on her full shelf were Daoist scriptures.

Shen Hui picked and chose, only selecting those that discussed techniques, monsters, and martial conflicts. As for those that expounded on scriptures and metaphysics, he would flip two pages and set them down.

He simply couldn't get into them.

Second Senior Sister had some complaints about this.

That day, he came to return a book. She was sitting by the window, copying scriptures. Without even lifting her eyelids, she said flatly, "Finished reading?"

"Finished."

"Did you understand it all?"

Shen Hui thought for a moment and honestly corrected himself: "Actually, I didn't finish it. I only read the parts about techniques; I didn't read the parts about metaphysics."

Jingming's brush paused mid-stroke. She looked up at him. "You ignore the proper texts and only focus on those about fighting and killing. If one day you're debating the Dao with someone and they ask you what the seventh volume of the Azure Sun Sutra says, how will you answer?"

Shen Hui blinked. "Then this junior brother would say, 'This Humble One does not grasp the sutra's meaning, but is roughly versed in fire techniques.'"

At this, Jingming's wrist jerked, and her brush nearly dropped onto the paper.

She took a deep breath, lowered her head, and continued copying her scriptures, ignoring him.

Shen Hui gave an awkward smile, glanced at the ink stain on her rice paper, picked a book from the shelf he hadn't read, and quietly slipped out.

Occasionally, he would spar with his fellow disciples in techniques.

Though "spar" was the word, most of the time it was Senior Brother and Fourth Senior Sister practicing against each other while he watched from the side.

Senior Brother's swordsmanship was steady and heavy; Fourth Senior Sister's movements were nimble and quick. He watched, learned, memorized, and sometimes tried it himself.

But this wasn't like the back-and-forth, three-hundred-round battles in operas.

That was too fake.

Real sparring mostly involved comparing the speed of forming hand seals and chanting incantations, the skill of channeling spiritual energy, the countering and application of techniques, and how to achieve the greatest effect with the least cost.

In such sparring, the winner and loser were often decided in moments.

But in the past few days, even the sparring sessions had grown fewer.

Because Third Senior Brother and Fourth Senior Sister had become obsessed with listening to stories.

It was understandable, really—lack of entertainment was a common ailment in this world.

Most people back then could only see the small patch of land before their eyes for their entire lives; a county town a few dozen miles away was already considered another world.

If they were literate, they could still learn about the world through books; if not, they had to rely on others' words and their own eyes to sketch the myriad phenomena of the world.

Even the opera troupes and storytellers only cycled through the same old, worn-out tales.

Besides, even if they wanted to listen, it wasn't always possible.

Going down the mountain took several days, and who would be willing to walk dozens or even a hundred miles of mountain paths just to hear a story that wasn't even that exciting?

Thus, when Shen Hui occasionally told unheard-of strange tales, his audience gradually grew.

It started one evening after dinner, when Shen Hui casually told the story of the Ugly Duckling.

His original intent was to tell a tale about a little duck despised for its ugliness that eventually turned into a swan and flew away.

But as Third Senior Brother listened, his eyes lit up. He pulled out his ever-present little notebook and began jotting things down as he listened.

"Brilliant!"

When Shen Hui finished, he clapped his hands in admiration. "This is no mere duck—it's clearly a monster practicing the art of transformation! First, it shows its ugly form, enduring humiliation and burden, and when its technique is perfected, it sheds its old appearance, transforms, and flies into the sky. Junior Brother, where did you hear this? Is there more to it?"

Shen Hui opened his mouth, unsure how to explain.

He thought to himself, You're really something, aren't you? Since when did I know the Ugly Duckling was a face-slapping power fantasy?

So he told the story of Little Red Riding Hood.

This time, it was even worse.

Third Senior Brother was stunned for a long moment after hearing this before slowly letting out a breath. "What a fiend! Taking human form to deceive its prey, waiting for them to let down their guard before swallowing them whole. This is a Wolf Demon that has awakened its spiritual wisdom! That hunter's appearance was karmic retribution, the cycle of heaven's way... I wonder how it compares to the Wolf Demon you encountered some days ago—which is stronger..."

As he spoke, he lowered his head and began scribbling furiously on the paper.

Shen Hui: "..."

Well, as long as you're happy.

From then on, Third Senior Brother and Fourth Senior Sister latched onto him.

Every day after their cultivation lessons were done, the two would smile and slip into Shen Hui's room.

When Fifth Senior Brother heard about it, he dragged his stool over to join.

Later, even Senior Brother came.

And after that, even Second Senior Sister showed up.

Every time she saw them gathered together, she would walk over with a stern face, furrow her brow, and sit down in a corner.

She wouldn't say a word, just listened like that.

When Shen Hui finished his story, she would rise and leave, stopping at the door to toss out a "Cultivation is paramount," then come back the next day.

That day's story was The Little Mermaid.

Shen Hui racked his brains, dug up that fairy tale, thought it over, and decided to adapt it to be more "realistic."

"On the East Sea Coast, there was a Mermaid Princess..." he began.

"Mermaid?" Third Senior Brother's eyes lit up. "I know about those, but a princess—"

"Don't interrupt." Fourth Senior Sister Jinghui quickly stopped him.

Qingyi shut his mouth.

Shen Hui continued.

"This Mermaid Princess was exceptionally beautiful and cultivated a water-element secret art. One day, she saved a mortal Prince who had fallen into the water..."

"What is a Prince?" someone else asked.

"Uh... it's a Crown Prince."

"Junior Sister, don't interrupt either."

"Got it, go on, go on."

"That Prince was handsome, and the mermaid's heart stirred with mortal feelings, so she went to seek the Sea Witch, asking if there was a way for her to go ashore."

"What is a Witch?"

"Uh... it's a shaman or sorcerer."

"So is it a shaman or a sorcerer?"

Shen Hui couldn't help but sigh.

He naturally knew that "shaman" and "sorcerer" referred to male and female practitioners respectively, but he'd seen this story years ago—who could remember whether the one in the sea was a female witch or a male wizard?

So he answered casually, "A witch!"

Just as he was about to continue, another question came:

"But how could there be a witch in the sea? Could it be an immortal from Penglai Immortal Island?"

Shen Hui stiffened his neck, put his hands on his hips: "Do you want to listen or not?"

Everyone quickly fell silent.

Shen Hui swept his gaze over them and said irritably, "Ask after I finish."

"That witch said she could let her go ashore, but humans and demons walk different paths. Her cultivation was still shallow, and she remained a human torso with a fish tail. To transform, she needed to sever her tail into feet. But doing so meant every step would feel like treading on knife points. Not only that, she also had to dissolve the horizontal bone in her throat, blah blah blah..."

When he finished, he let out a long breath. "Ask away."

Everyone immediately started chattering.

"Every step like treading on knife points?" Fifth Senior Brother's eyes went wide. "Isn't that some kind of external body-forging technique? If you master it, you'd be impervious to blades and spears?"

Shen Hui opened his mouth. "...It's not a technique. It's a price."

Third Senior Brother had already flipped to a new page. "Isn't it only Core Formation great demons that can take human form? Since that mermaid hadn't formed a core, how could she grow legs?"

Shen Hui thought for a moment. "She used witchcraft, not cultivation."

"Then that witchcraft is truly remarkable..." Third Senior Brother muttered as he wrote it down. "I'll have to look through the classics later and see if there are any similar records."

Jinghui cut in, "Are those teardrops the legendary Mermaid Pearls? I've heard they have the power to ward off water?"

"That's how it's told in the story." Shen Hui nodded.

"To what extent can they ward it off?" Senior Brother suddenly spoke up. "Do they only protect the user, or can they ward water within three feet around? How long does it last? Can they be refined into a magical artifact?"

Shen Hui was silent for a moment. "Senior Brother, this is a story."

Senior Brother let out an "Oh" and said no more.

Third Senior Brother asked again, "And turning into foam—is that dispersing one's power and returning to the origin? Is it death, or returning to heaven and earth?"

"She's... dead, I suppose."

"Was it worth it, though?" Fifth Senior Brother scratched his head. "Torturing herself like that over a faithless man."

Everyone fell silent for a moment.

From the corner, a faint voice suddenly spoke: "This is an Emotional Tribulation."

The crowd turned—the speaker was none other than Second Senior Sister.

"For cultivators, an Emotional Tribulation is the most taboo," she said with certainty. "If this Merperson fails to overcome the tribulation, it means death and the end of their path."

Shen Hui: "..."