Shen Hui went on to tell them a few other stories.
The first was the Legend of the White Snake, which took him three whole nights to tell.
When he reached the part where Bai Suzhen fought Fahai to save Xu Xian, summoning the waters of the Four Seas to flood Jinshan Temple, Fifth Senior Brother cheered aloud.
When he reached the part where Bai Suzhen gave birth, only to be sealed beneath Leifeng Pagoda by Fahai, while Xu Xian became a monk and spent his days sweeping the floor and burning incense, Jinghui's eyes turned red.
When he reached the part where Bai Suzhen's son, Xu Shilin, placed first in the imperial examinations and offered sacrifices at the pagoda to rescue his mother, Third Senior Brother let out a long sigh. "Bai Suzhen cultivated for a thousand years, only to be bound by a single worldly romance..."
Senior Brother, on the other hand, was filled with righteous indignation. "That old bald donkey Fahai is a real piece of work!"
His curse immediately drew agreement.
"Exactly!"
Jinghui jumped in at once. "They're a perfect match, a handsome man and a beautiful woman, made for each other! Who was he to oppose them? Was he only satisfied once he'd torn them apart?"
Third Senior Brother looked up from his notes. "According to the story, Fahai was acting on Heaven's behalf. Bai Suzhen was a demon, after all. Humans and demons walk different paths..."
"Different paths, my foot!" Senior Brother glared. "She never hurt anyone! She ran an apothecary and saved lives. Didn't she help more people than Fahai ever did?"
Third Senior Brother opened his mouth as if to say something, then swallowed his words.
"Fahai was so fixated on 'subduing demons' that he forgot to 'save people.'"
Second Senior Sister said coolly, "Though Bai Suzhen was a demon, she acted with human virtue. Though Fahai had a human body, his actions were..."
She paused and left it at that.
Jinghui nodded vigorously. "Exactly! What he did was... was..."
"He was attached to appearances," Third Senior Brother supplied.
"That's right! He was attached to appearances!"
After finishing his notes, Third Senior Brother looked up at Shen Hui. "Junior Brother, where did you hear all these stories?"
Shen Hui smiled faintly. "When I was wandering, I heard them from all sorts of places. Storytellers, opera singers, people at the markets, street vendors—I pieced together bits and pieces and remembered the general outlines."
Third Senior Brother nodded, then lowered his head to write: Passed down by word of mouth, scattered among the common folk—such is the wonder of unofficial histories.
Watching him scribble away, Shen Hui suddenly felt a little guilty.
Not because he was lying.
He'd long since stopped worrying about such a trivial thing. Besides, he needed some explanation to give these strange tales from another world a place of origin.
His guilt came from something else.
Fahai was a monk, and Shen Hui was a Daoist.
If word got out that he was telling a story that cast a monk as the villain, wouldn't that count as slandering Buddhism...
He glanced at everyone's indignant faces and silently murmured a prayer for forgiveness.
But then he thought it over. As a Daoist, wasn't slandering Buddhism part of his job?
After all, the contest between Chinese and foreign ways had existed since ancient times.
A few days ago, while leafing through books, he'd even come across a claim that Daoists had pushed for Emperor Taizong of the previous dynasty to suppress Buddhism.
So slandering Buddhism was a traditional craft. Using it now and then surely couldn't hurt.
And besides, if Daoists slandered Buddhism, then naturally monks slandered Daoism too.
The two religions had been slandering each other for ages.
A Daoist had once written the Three Destructions Treatise to attack Buddhism, claiming it was "a barbarian religion that teaches disloyalty and filial impiety." A monk, in turn, had written the Extinguishing Delusion Treatise in rebuttal, calling Daoist practices of "refining Golden Cores and consuming lingzhi" nothing but false arts.
Though reconciliation was the prevailing trend these days, a traditional craft was still a traditional craft. One couldn't let it die out, could one?
Thinking this, Shen Hui felt entirely at ease.
The Butterfly Lovers took even less time to tell.
They swore brotherhood at Grass Bridge, studied together for three years, parted at the Eighteen-Mile Pavilion, met again at the terrace, and at last came that grand, stirring transformation into butterflies.
As soon as Shen Hui finished the final line, Third Senior Brother was the first to speak. "Ma Wencai was rather pitiable, actually."
Everyone turned to look at him.
Third Senior Brother wore a solemn expression. "Think about it. He'd sent the betrothal gifts and married her properly, only for his bride to throw herself into a grave and die halfway there. Wouldn't anyone be bitter for the rest of his life?"
Jinghui glared at him. "Senior Brother! Have you no compassion?"
"I do."
Third Senior Brother lowered his head and wrote in his notebook. "I just think there isn't a truly evil person in this story. Zhu Yingtai did nothing wrong, Liang Shanbo did nothing wrong, and Ma Wencai did nothing wrong either. The one at fault was..."
He stopped his brush and thought for a while. Unable to come up with an answer, he could only continue writing: Fate toys with people.
Jinghui wasn't about to let it go. "What about Liang Shanbo? He was such a good person, and he died pining for her!"
"And what about Zhu Yingtai? Her father wanted to marry her off, and there was nothing she could do."
"And her father?"
"Her father..." Third Senior Brother thought it over. "He wanted what was best for her, too. The Ma family was rich and powerful. She'd live in luxury after marrying into it. Wasn't that better than marrying some poor scholar?"
Jinghui was left speechless by his argument. After a long struggle, she managed to force out one line. "Anyway, Fahai was in the wrong!"
Everyone burst out laughing.
Shen Hui laughed too, but as he did, an emptiness crept into his heart.
Now that he'd finished telling those two stories, he really didn't want to tell any more.
For one thing, he'd pretty much scraped the bottom of the barrel. Foreign stories had to be adapted to local tastes, and he couldn't even remember all the local ones. Every time he told a story, he had to make things up as he went along. It was exhausting.
For another, every time he told these stories, he couldn't help thinking of another world.
He thought of the towering buildings, the streets teeming with carriages and horses, and those years he could never return to... It was as if, every time he told a story, he brought that world back to life in his heart.
He didn't like it.
Shen Hui saw how reluctant everyone looked to let the stories end. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke.
"Brothers and Sisters, I've already told you all the stories I know."
"That's it?"
"That's it." He spread his hands, completely sincere.
The room fell silent for a moment.
Third Senior Brother sighed and closed the densely written notebook. His voice held a trace of regret. "What a pity. I was hoping to take down a few more and compile them into a collection someday."
With that, he reluctantly gathered up his brush and ink. The others got up and left one after another.
Only Jinghui refused to give up.
When they parted, she was the last to leave. At the doorway, she turned back to look at Shen Hui, her eyes plainly saying, I still want to hear more.
Shen Hui pretended not to notice.
Over the next few days, however, she followed him around like a kitten at his heels. Wherever Shen Hui went, she went too.
Whenever she had a spare moment, Jinghui would slip into his room.
Sometimes she brought a plate of pickles; sometimes she carried a handful of wild fruit. She'd place them on his desk with a cheerful grin, then start wearing him down.
"Junior Brother, tell me another story."
"There aren't any more."
"Just one! Tell me the Butterfly Lovers again?"
"I already told it."
"Then tell me the part where they turn into butterflies!"
"I told that part, too."
"Then tell me..." Her eyes shifted as an idea struck her. "How did they turn into butterflies? Did they learn some kind of transformation technique?"
Shen Hui reluctantly set down the book in his hands.
"Senior Sister, it was just a story."
"But you said last time that stories were based on real events! They didn't come out of nowhere." Jinghui argued with conviction.
Unable to shake her off, Shen Hui finally stopped and turned around.
It seemed he'd have to put an end to her hopes.
"You really want to know?" he asked.
Jinghui nodded hard.
Looking into her bright, sparkling eyes, Shen Hui suddenly felt a mischievous impulse.
"All right," he said. "I'll tell you."
Jinghui perked up her ears.
"To turn into a butterfly, you first have to become a caterpillar."
The eager look on Jinghui's face froze.
"You know what a caterpillar is, right? A hairy grub."
Shen Hui gestured as he spoke. "Green and fleshy, covered all over in fine hairs, crawling along by hunching itself forward. Some are poisonous, and if you touch one, you'll break out in a rash. When they're fat, they can get this thick."
He showed her with his fingers.
The corners of Jinghui's mouth began to droop.
"Then," Shen Hui continued, "once the caterpillar's grown enough, it finds somewhere to hang and wraps itself in a cocoon. It makes the cocoon by spinning its own silk, all sticky, dangling and swaying from a tree branch."
The corners of Jinghui's mouth began to twitch.
"Inside the cocoon, it has to dissolve itself into a puddle."
"A... a puddle?"
"That's right. A puddle!"
Shen Hui continued, "A pool of yellowish-green goo. Its organs and meridians all dissolve into one sticky lump."
Jinghui's face began to pale.
"Then that goo slowly grows again. It grows wings, six legs, and compound eyes. You know what compound eyes are, right? Those densely packed eyes that look like a sieve."
He grew more and more detailed, embellishing the goo's texture, color, and smell.
Jinghui couldn't have turned any paler.
"Once it's all grown, it crawls out of the cocoon."
Shen Hui made a gesture of breaking free. "When it first comes out, its wings are still wet, so it has to dry them before it can fly. While they're drying, the wings are limp, like paper that's been soaked to mush. Ugly as sin."
When he finished, he looked at Jinghui.
She stood there wearing an expression like she'd been struck by lightning.
It took her a long while to find her voice.
"...That's disgusting."
Shen Hui nodded. "It is disgusting."
Jinghui stood there a moment longer, then suddenly spun around and ran. After a few steps, she looked back and glared at him, her eyes full of disgust and accusation.
"You're lying!"
"I'm not lying."
Shen Hui called after her. "That's exactly how it's written in the story. There's even a little verse that goes with it. If you want to know it, I'll tell you..."
Jinghui had already vanished.
Shen Hui stood where he was and finally let out a long breath.
At last, some peace and quiet.