Human Hearts Are Truly Wonderful

Jinghui shook her head, as if she didn't much care for this story.

"Tell another one, tell another one!"

Shen Hui thought for a moment, then said, "Then I'll tell the story of Snow White."

"Snow White?" Third Senior Brother's eyes lit up. "A snow demon?"

"...Close enough, but she's not a demon—she's human." Shen Hui couldn't be bothered to correct him.

He cleared his throat and began telling the version of Snow White he had "localized."

"Once upon a time, there was a king. The queen gave birth to a daughter, with skin as white as snow and lips like vermilion, so she was named Snow Maiden."

Third Senior Brother nodded and wrote in his notebook: Snow demon, fair-skinned, hence named Snow Maiden.

"The queen died young, and the king remarried, taking a stepmother skilled in sorcery."

Third Senior Brother nodded again, muttering under his breath: "Stepmother versed in sorcery—must be a mountain spirit or wild fiend in disguise."

Shen Hui ignored him and continued.

"The stepmother had a mirror that could speak human tongue and knew all under heaven."

Third Senior Brother's brush paused; he jerked his head up. "A Talking Mirror?"

Shen Hui stared at him, saying nothing.

Third Senior Brother realized he had broken the rule again and quickly lowered his head. "Go on, go on."

So Shen Hui continued.

"The stepmother asked the mirror, 'Who is the most beautiful woman under heaven?' The mirror said, 'It is Snow Maiden.' The stepmother flew into a rage and sent a Black-Clad Assassin to kill her."

"The assassin took the silver but couldn't bring himself to do the deed, so he let her go. Snow Maiden fled deep into the mountains, where she met seven dwarfs."

"Dwarfs? Little people?" Jinghui grew interested. "How short? Down to where?"

Shen Hui gestured at his own waist. "About this tall."

"That short?" Jinghui frowned. "Aren't they just like seven- or eight-year-old children? Are they human or demon?"

Shen Hui thought for a moment. "Let's call them demons. They live in the mountains, know how to mine, forge iron, and make things."

Third Senior Brother's eyes lit up again. "Mining and forging iron? That's a type of mountain spirit—called 'Mine Goblins' in the books, extremely rare!"

Shen Hui waved his hand, signaling everyone not to interrupt.

"Snow Maiden lived in the dwarfs' home. The stepmother learned from the mirror that she hadn't died, so she came herself to harm her. The first time, she used an Immortal Binding Rope to strangle her neck; the second time, she used an Oxhorn Comb to cast a curse—but the dwarfs revived her each time."

"The third time, she refined a Poison Pill, half-red and half-green, and Snow Maiden fell for it again. The poison was hard to cure; the dwarfs were at their wit's end, and Snow Maiden breathed her last."

Jinghui covered her mouth. "She died?"

"Not quite dead." Shen Hui said. "The dwarfs placed her in a Crystal Coffin, sealing her vitality to await a future day."

"And then?" Jinghui asked urgently.

"Then a passing prince... well, a Crown Prince, saw Snow Maiden in the coffin and was overjoyed. He used a secret art to revive her, and they cultivated together in dual cultivation, ascending the Great Path together."

"That's it?"

"That's it!" Shen Hui leaned back. "Ask away."

"Did Snow Maiden have some special constitution? Was the stepmother trying to seize her foundation to cultivate?"

Shen Hui rolled his eyes. "No idea."

"This stepmother was deep in scheming and ruthless—she must have been a great demonic overlord!"

Shen Hui sighed. "Probably."

"That Crystal Coffin must have been made of cold jade, used to suppress her aura and preserve her flesh from decay."

Shen Hui nodded repeatedly. "Makes sense."

"Were those seven dwarfs experts in some bone-shrinking technique? Or reclusive rogue cultivators?"

Shen Hui lifted his chin. "Didn't you just say they were Mine Goblins?"

"Revived by a secret art... tsk, that Crown Prince must be well-versed in the art of dual cultivation—maybe he's a heretic cultivator?"

"Ah, well..." Shen Hui's face twisted in absurdity, as if he wanted to speak but held back, finally replying helplessly, "If you say so."

After a few more rounds of storytelling, Shen Hui gradually noticed that Fourth Senior Sister Jinghui always seemed to have other thoughts on her mind when listening.

That day, after he finished a tale of vendetta in the martial world, Jinghui pouted. "Why is it all fighting and killing? Little Junior Brother, can you tell something else? Like... that kind of story?"

Shen Hui looked at her sparkling eyes, utterly bewildered.

"What kind?"

"You know..." Jinghui fidgeted a little. "Between a man and a woman."

The bewilderment on Shen Hui's face turned into shock.

No way, Senior Sister, are you serious?

He opened his mouth but found himself at a loss for words.

The room suddenly fell silent, so quiet that even the sound of snow sliding off the eaves outside the window was clearly audible.

Jinghui, seeing everyone's expressions, froze for a moment, then flushed red.

"Where are your minds wandering!"

She stomped her foot. "I mean the romantic kind! The kind in plays—scholars and maidens, under the moon and flowers, pledging themselves to each other!"

Only then did everyone breathe a sigh of relief.

Shen Hui's suspended heart also settled back into his chest, as he secretly wiped cold sweat from his brow.

He had nearly thought this senior sister wanted to hear something salacious... and wondered to himself whether he knew how Abin had fared in his college entrance exams.

But still, "Well..."

He scratched his head, troubled.

Those overseas strange tales could be tweaked and passed off as stories of demons and monsters.

But if he brought out something like Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty, and then Third Senior Brother interpreted them, they'd likely turn into twisted versions like "How a Fallen Female Cultivator Used Demonic Arts to Cling to a Noble House" or "A Thousand-Year Demoness Sleeps, Waiting for a Fated One to Drain Her Essence."

Thinking of this, he shook his head repeatedly.

But if he didn't tell those, what else was left in his mind?

Just as he was worrying, he suddenly recalled the copy of Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio he'd flipped through in his past life, and silently cursed himself for being utterly foolish.

How could he have forgotten this?

Though he hadn't read much of it, only remembering a few famous chapters, those few were enough.

And since this was originally a collection of strange tales written by ancients, there was no need to change anything—he could just tell it as is, the easiest option.

So he cleared his throat and said, "Then I'll tell a story about a scholar and a female ghost."

"A female ghost?" Jinghui's eyes lit up even more.

Third Senior Brother also perked up, his brush tip landing on the paper, ready to record.

"In Wu Commandery, Yangzhou, there was a scholar named Ning Caichen..." Shen Hui began slowly.

The night had grown deep, the lamp oil burned out.

A tale of twists and turns from Strange Tales, crossing time and space, broke into another world.

That night, after the telling, Jinghui's eyes were slightly red.

Third Senior Brother scribbled furiously beside her, recording every word of the exchange between Ning Caichen and Nie Xiaoqian without missing a beat.

The next night, when he told more, Jinghui tugged at his sleeve and asked, "What happened next? Did Xiaoqian reincarnate? Did Ning Caichen marry her?"

On the third night, Senior Brother also came over, sitting upright with eyes gleaming. When Yan Chixia appeared, he slapped his thigh hard: "What a hero!"

"Junior Brother, this story is great! Much more interesting than those princes and princesses! What sword technique did that Yan Chixia use? Is there a classic text passed down?"

Shen Hui thought for a moment. "Probably... something like the Sword Flight Art."

"Sword Flight Art?" Third Senior Brother's eyes grew even brighter. "Is he a sword immortal? Someone like our founding master?"

"Close enough."

Third Senior Brother bent his head and wrote furiously.

Fifth Senior Brother also came over. "I love that line of his: 'Boundless heaven and earth, borrow the power of the cosmos'! It's a pity my talent is too poor, my skills too meager."

Second Senior Sister sat in the corner, silent the whole time.

Shen Hui noticed her gaze fixed on him, as if waiting for something.

"Second Senior Sister?" he asked.

Jingming was quiet for a moment, then said flatly, "That Black Mountain Old Demon—what's his origin?"

Shen Hui was taken aback.

He had thought Second Senior Sister would ask about Yan Chixia's Dao arts, or Nie Xiaoqian's ghostly form, but instead she asked this.

"Uh..." He recalled. "Probably a mountain spirit or wild beast that cultivated into a demon, claimed a mountain as its own, and had many lesser ghosts and imps under its command."

"What was his cultivation level?"

"Pretty high, I think..." Shen Hui wasn't sure. "Able to command a host of ghosts—probably no ordinary demon."

Jingming nodded and said nothing more.

Shen Hui looked at the group, each with different expressions, and suddenly found it interesting.

Fourth Senior Sister liked Nie Xiaoqian—moved by emotion.

Third Senior Sister liked Ning Caichen—moved by devotion.

Senior Brother and Fifth Senior Brother liked Yan Chixia—moved by chivalry.

And Second Senior Sister—she actually asked about the Black Mountain Old Demon...

The same story, seen through different eyes, casts different shadows.

The human heart is truly wondrous.

Shen Hui couldn't help but sigh—wasn't this itself a kind of cultivation?

If you can't find the book by searching the title, try searching the author—maybe it just changed its name!