Jinghui shook her head, as though she hadn't much cared for the story.
"Tell another one, tell another one!"
Shen Hui thought for a moment. "Then I'll tell you the story of Snow White."
"Snow White?" Third Senior Brother's eyes lit up. "Is she a Snow Demon?"
"...Close enough, but she wasn't a demon. She was human." Shen Hui couldn't be bothered to correct him.
He cleared his throat and began telling the story of Snow White, "localized" for their world.
"Once upon a time, there was a ruler whose queen gave birth to a daughter. Her skin was whiter than snow, her lips red as vermilion, so they named her Snow Maiden."
Third Senior Brother nodded and wrote in his notebook: Snow Demon, skin white as snow, hence the name Snow Maiden.
"The queen died young, and the ruler remarried, taking a stepmother who knew demonic arts."
Third Senior Brother nodded, murmuring to himself, "The stepmother was skilled in demonic arts. She must have been a mountain spirit or wild monster in disguise."
Shen Hui ignored him and continued.
"The stepmother had a mirror that could speak and knew everything under heaven."
Third Senior Brother's brush stopped. He jerked his head up. "A Talking Mirror?"
Shen Hui looked at him without saying a word.
Realizing he'd broken the rules again, Third Senior Brother quickly lowered his head. "Go on, go on."
So Shen Hui continued.
"The stepmother asked the mirror, 'Who is the fairest woman in all the world?' The mirror said it was 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 it, so he let her go. Snow Maiden fled into the deep mountains, where she met the Seven Dwarfs."
"Dwarfs? Short people?" Jinghui perked up. "How short? Up to where?"
Shen Hui gestured to his waist. "About this tall."
"That short?" Jinghui frowned. "Wouldn't that make them about the same height as seven- or eight-year-old children? Were they human or demons?"
Shen Hui thought it over. "They were probably demons. They lived in the mountains, dug mines, forged iron, and made things."
Third Senior Brother's eyes lit up again. "They dug mines and forged iron? They must be a kind of mountain spirit. Books call them 'Mine Goblins.' They're exceedingly rare!"
Shen Hui waved a hand, telling everyone not to interrupt.
"Snow Maiden lived in the dwarfs' home. When the stepmother learned from the mirror that she wasn't dead, she went there herself to harm her. The first time, she strangled her with an Immortal Binding Rope. The second time, she used an Oxhorn Comb to cast a curse. But the dwarfs saved her both times."
"On the third try, she refined a Poison Pill, half red and half green. Snow Maiden fell for it again. The poison was impossible to cure, and the dwarfs were helpless. So Snow Maiden breathed her last."
Jinghui covered her mouth. "She died?"
"Not completely." Shen Hui said, "The dwarfs placed her in a Crystal Coffin, preserving her life force until the day she could be revived."
"What happened next?" Jinghui asked urgently.
"Later, a passing prince...well, the crown prince, saw Snow Maiden in the coffin and was utterly smitten. He used a secret technique to revive her, cultivated with her as a pair, and together they ascended the Great Dao."
"That's it?"
"That's it!" Shen Hui leaned back. "Ask away."
"Did Snow Maiden have some special constitution? Did the stepmother want to harm her so she could steal her foundation and use it to cultivate?"
Shen Hui rolled his eyes. "I don't know."
"The stepmother was cunning and ruthless. She must have been a great demon cultivator!"
Shen Hui sighed. "Probably."
"That Crystal Coffin must have been made of cold jade, to suppress her aura and keep her body from rotting."
Shen Hui nodded again and again. "That makes sense."
"Were the Seven Dwarfs martial experts who'd mastered the Bone-Shrinking Art? Or Rogue Cultivators living in seclusion?"
Shen Hui lifted his chin. "Didn't you say they were Mine Goblins?"
"He revived her with a secret technique...tsk, tsk. The crown prince must have been skilled in the arts of sexual cultivation. Maybe he was an Evil Cultivator?"
"Uh..." Shen Hui looked utterly bewildered, opened his mouth, then gave up and replied, "If you say so."
After telling the stories a few more times, Shen Hui gradually realized that Fourth Senior Sister Jinghui always had something else on her mind when she listened.
One day, after he'd finished telling a tale of vengeance and bloodshed in the martial world, Jinghui pursed her lips. "Why are they all fighting and killing? Junior Brother, can't you tell something else? Something like...that kind of story?"
Shen Hui gazed at her bright, sparkling eyes, utterly at a loss.
"What kind?"
"You know..." Jinghui fidgeted. "The kind between men and women."
The confusion on Shen Hui's face turned to shock.
No way, Senior Sister. You're serious?
He opened his mouth, but couldn't think of a thing to say.
The room suddenly fell silent. Even the soft patter of snow sliding from the eaves outside the window could be heard clearly.
Seeing everyone's reaction, Jinghui stared for a moment, then flushed scarlet.
"What are you thinking?!"
She stamped her foot. "I meant a love story! The kind they sing about in plays: a scholar and a young lady, moonlit trysts, pledging themselves to each other in secret!"
Only then did everyone let out a breath of relief.
Shen Hui's heart, which had been dangling in his chest, settled back into place. He secretly wiped away a cold sweat.
For a moment, he'd thought this Senior Sister wanted to hear something positively scandalous...He wasn't even sure whether A Bin had done well on the college entrance exam.
But, "Well..."
He scratched his head, stumped.
Those strange tales from abroad could still pass for a bestiary if he changed a few details.
But if he brought out Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty, then let Third Senior Brother interpret them, they'd probably turn into something like "How a Fallen Female Cultivator Used Demonic Arts to Climb into High Society" or "A Thousand-Year-Old Demoness Slept Until a Fated Man Came to Harvest Her." Pure heretical scripture.
At the thought, he shook his head again and again.
But if he didn't tell those stories, what else did he have left?
Just as he was fretting, he suddenly remembered the Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio he'd read in his previous life. He couldn't help cursing himself for being an utter fool.
How had he forgotten that?
He hadn't read much of the book, and could only remember a few famous tales, but those would be more than enough.
Besides, they were already strange tales written by an ancient. He didn't need to change a thing—he could simply tell them as they were. Couldn't be easier.
So he cleared his throat and said, "Then I'll tell you a story about a scholar and a female ghost."
"A female ghost?" Jinghui's eyes shone even brighter.
Third Senior Brother perked up too, setting his brush to the paper as he waited to take notes.
"In Wu Commandery, Yangzhou, there was a scholar named Ning Caichen..." Shen Hui began to recount the tale slowly.
Night deepened, and the lamp oil burned away.
A Strange Tales story, full of twists and turns, had crossed through time and entered another world.
When the story ended that night, Jinghui's eyes were slightly red.
Third Senior Brother sat to one side, writing furiously, recording every word of the exchange between Ning Caichen and Nie Xiaoqian.
The next night, Jinghui tugged at Shen Hui's sleeve and asked, "What happened afterward? Was Xiaoqian reincarnated? Did Ning Caichen marry her?"
On the third night, Senior Brother joined them too, sitting upright with his eyes shining. When Yan Chixia appeared, he slapped his thigh. "What a hero!"
"Junior Brother, this story is great! Much more interesting than that prince-and-princess stuff! What sword technique did Yan Chixia use? Were there any surviving texts about it?"
Shen Hui thought for a moment. "Probably...something like the Sword Flight Art."
"The Sword Flight Art?" Third Senior Brother's eyes shone brighter still. "Was he a sword immortal? Someone like our founding patriarch?"
"More or less."
Third Senior Brother lowered his head and wrote furiously.
Fifth Senior Brother joined in too. "I like his line, 'With the might of Heaven and Earth, I borrow the power of the cosmos!' Too bad my talent's so poor and my abilities so meager."
Second Senior Sister sat in the corner, not saying a word.
Shen Hui noticed her gaze resting on him, as though she were waiting for something.
"Second Senior Sister?" he asked.
Jingming was silent for a while, then asked coolly, "What's the story behind that Black Mountain Old Demon?"
Shen Hui was taken aback.
He'd thought Second Senior Sister would ask about Yan Chixia's Daoist arts or Nie Xiaoqian's ghostly nature. He hadn't expected her to ask about this.
"Uh..." He thought back. "He was probably a mountain spirit or wild monster who cultivated into a demon, took over a mountain, and ruled it like a king. He had lots of little ghosts and demons under him."
"How powerful was he?"
"Pretty powerful, I guess..." Shen Hui wasn't sure. "He could command hordes of ghosts, so he probably wasn't an ordinary monster."
Jingming nodded and said nothing more.
Looking at the different expressions on everyone's faces, Shen Hui suddenly found it rather interesting.
Fourth Senior Sister liked Nie Xiaoqian, moved by love.
Third Senior Brother liked Ning Caichen, touched by his devotion.
Senior Brother and Fifth Senior Brother liked Yan Chixia, stirred by his chivalry.
And Second Senior Sister had asked about the Black Mountain Old Demon...
The same story, seen through different eyes, reflected a different image in each.
The human heart was truly wondrous.
Shen Hui couldn't help thinking: wasn't this another kind of cultivation?