The Daoist Is Pregnant

"Finished telling your story?"

The woman drew her voice to a close, nodded with a smile, and pressed her palms together, her bearing solemn and respectful.

"Finished."

Shen Hui's gaze darkened. Expressionless, he glanced at her and suddenly said,

"So you're nothing but someone who bullies the weak and fears the strong."

The woman's smile froze. She asked in confusion,

"Why would you say that, Daoist?"

Shen Hui held his sword, his fingertips resting against its hilt, his tone full of disdain.

"If the old tale you just told was true, then you should have gone to settle accounts with those monks from back then."

"Yet instead of seeking them out, you harmed the innocent people who came here to offer incense and pray for children."

"If that isn't bullying the weak and fearing the strong, then what is?"

The woman was stunned for a moment. Then she covered her mouth and laughed so hard her body trembled like a blossom swaying in the wind, the hem of her nun's robe gently fluttering.

"Daoist, those words truly wrong this little woman."

She shook her head with a smile, her brows and eyes curved, her face the picture of innocence.

"I have never harmed anyone. Which of those women praying for children did not kneel long before the hall, pleading bitterly and hoping I would grant them a son or daughter?"

"If I refused, would that not make me seem lacking in compassion?"

Shen Hui glanced at her and said lightly,

"Then was that pregnant man also begging you to give it to him?"

The woman froze again. Then, as though she had recalled something amusing, the curve of her lips deepened, and a trace of mischief flashed through her eyes.

"Oh, that man..."

She dragged out her words, her tone