205: Chapter 203 Story

Xue Ji's hand was still resting on the back of Yun Ming's hand, not letting go.

Her brows were slightly furrowed, and her eyes held a trace of confusion along with something indescribable.

"Stories?" she repeated. "What stories? Whose stories?"

Yun Ming did not pull his hand back, allowing her to hold it.

He leaned back in his chair, gazing at the gray sky overhead, and after a moment of silence, he spoke.

"You need a story of your own," he said. "It can be fake, fictional even, but you must make others believe it is true."

Xue Ji's brows furrowed even tighter.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, then swallowed it back down.

She let go of Yun Ming's hand, sat up straight, and placed her hands on her knees like a student listening intently to a lecture.

Yun Ming picked up his teacup, took a sip, set it down, and began to use an analogy.

"Let me give you an example. A poor scholar spends his days studying to understand the truth, keeping himself pure and never setting foot in places of ill repute. One day, he encounters a wanton Prostitute. Do you think that scholar would like her?"

Xue Ji shook her head.

"No. A scholar would avoid women from such places at all costs."

Yun Ming nodded.

"But what if this Prostitute is actually the Young Miss of a noble Family? She willingly fell into such a wretched place to save her Family, indulging in pleasure every day only to suppress the sorrow in her heart. The men around her are just passing travelers, while deep in her heart, she has always harbored the wish to revive her Family."

Xue Ji fell silent.

"Both are Prostitutes," Yun Ming said. "The former only makes people feel she is filthy and self-depraved. The latter, however, appears resilient, a lotus rising unsullied from the mud. How could a poor scholar understand the inner workings of such things? He would only feel that this woman has a pitiful background and noble character; he would surely raise money everywhere to redeem her."

Xue Ji's lips moved slightly, but she made no sound.

Yun Ming continued: "If you want to charm some people to use them briefly, then your methods—Lianxiang Cup, Qingluo Ruanyan, Wangdao Chenghuan, and your beauty—are indeed very effective and convenient. But if you want someone to truly give their all for you, these methods are not enough."

Xue Ji lowered her head.

She looked at her fingers; her nails were painted with bright red balsam, shimmering with fine light under the sun.

Her eyelashes cast a small fan-shaped shadow under her eyes, trembling slightly.

Yun Ming did not stop.

"In short, low-level charm targets lust. But Advanced charm aims directly at the other person's ideals. Whether it's a poor scholar, a noble, a leader of the Righteous Path, or a chief of the Demonic Path, everyone has a place in their heart that others cannot reach. What you need to do is weave a story. As long as the story is touching enough, even if you use no techniques at all, there will be people devoted to you unto death."

Xue Ji looked up at Yun Ming. Her gaze had changed. It was no longer that seductive, teasing look, nor was it that scrutinizing, calculating gaze; instead, it was a serious look, full of a desire to learn.

"Then how do I know what they are like inside?" she asked. "I can't read minds, and I can't exactly go around searching their souls, can I?"

The corners of Yun Ming's mouth curled up slightly. "Good, you've already grasped the basics." He picked up his teacup and took a sip. "The human heart is a very complex thing, but it can also be very simple. You only need to use one trick—contrast."

"Contrast?" Xue Ji tilted her head.

"If you can't figure someone out, then tell a story first. The story is determined by you. If he is a commoner, you are a fallen noble. If he is a foot soldier, you are a general of a fallen kingdom. If he is from a scholarly Family, you are a girl from the grassroots. And vice versa." Yun Ming set down his teacup. "You must first create an inequality in status. Persuading a woman of the night to turn over a new leaf, or dragging a woman of good Family into the depths—these are the complex desires of destruction and salvation that coexist in human nature."

Xue Ji's eyes lit up for a moment but quickly dimmed again. Her brows were still furrowed, as if she were digesting Yun Ming's words or looking for loopholes in them.

Yun Ming did not give her much time to think.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his hands over his stomach, and began to expound on his theory from various angles.

He spoke of the human heart, of desire, of the weaknesses in human nature, and of how to use these weaknesses to weave stories.

He spoke quickly, but with clear logic and gradual progression, like a lesson plan prepared long ago.

The more Xue Ji listened, the more silent and focused she became.

She unconsciously sat up straight, placing her hands on the table and leaning forward slightly, for fear of missing a single word.

She nodded her head from time to time—sometimes lightly, as if confirming she understood, and sometimes heavily, as if expressing strong agreement. Her lips moved slightly, as if she were chanting along with Yun Ming, or digesting principles she had never heard before.

Having finished the theory, Yun Ming began to tell stories.

He first told the story of Bai Suzhen. A snake demon who had Cultivated for a thousand years, she took on a human Incarnation and married a mortal scholar. She was kind, gentle, and virtuous, willing to give up a thousand years of Dao for her husband, flooding Jinshan Temple and enduring the loneliness beneath Leifeng Pagoda. She was not human, yet she was more human than humans. When Xue Ji heard of Bai Suzhen being crushed under Leifeng Pagoda, her eyes turned red.

Yun Ming did not stop. He then told the story of Nie Xiaoqian. A lonely ghost controlled by a Matriarch, she was forced to use her beauty to lure people to their deaths. But she met Ning Caichen, an upright and kind scholar who was unmoved by beauty. She was touched, she rebelled, and she fought with all her might to protect him. In the end, she was Reincarnated, he achieved fame in the imperial exams, and the two met again in the next life. Xue Ji's tears began to fall.

Yun Ming then told the story of Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai. A young woman disguised as a man and a simple, honest scholar. They were classmates for three years, spending every day together, yet he never knew she was a woman. By the time he found out, she had already been betrothed to another. He died of a broken heart, she leaped into his grave to follow him in death, and finally, they turned into butterflies, flying together forever. Xue Ji's tears fell even harder.

Yun Ming then told the story of Cui Yingying and Zhang Sheng. The daughter of a Prime Minister and a destitute scholar. Secret meetings under the moon, messages passed by a maid, and after many twists and turns, they finally became a couple. Xue Ji wiped her tears, her nose turning red.

Yun Ming spoke for a long time, from afternoon until dusk.

The sun set, twilight gathered, and a faint mist filled the courtyard. The tea had grown cold, and the melon seeds were all eaten.

Xue Ji sat on the stone bench, her eyes and nose red, with tear stains still hanging on her cheeks.

She looked at Yun Ming with a complex gaze.

She didn't know why she was crying; these stories were fake, and she knew they were fake.

But she just couldn't help it. The people in those stories, those names she had never seen or heard of before, seemed to come alive, standing before her, laughing, crying, loving, and hating.

Yun Ming took a sip of the cold tea, set it down, and looked at Xue Ji.

"Don't just cry," he said. "You need to learn the character archetypes in the stories. Did you understand?"

Xue Ji was stunned for a moment, then let out a huff.

That huff carried dissatisfaction, grievance, and a sort of coquettish reproach that seemed to say, 'How can you be so insensitive?'

She stood up, turned around, and walked back to her room without looking back.

The door closed behind her with a dull thud.

Yun Ming sat at the stone table, looking at the closed door, and shook his head in bewilderment.

He picked up the teacup, found the tea was stone cold, and set it down again.

He picked up the Jade Slip containing the Wangdao Chenghuan recorded on the table and flipped it over in his hand.

The Jade Slip felt warm and smooth, carved with fine lines that looked like some ancient runes.

His Divine Sense entered it, and the information within the Jade Slip flooded into his Sea of Consciousness.

It was a dance. Every movement, every posture, every spin, and every glance back was etched into the Jade Slip, vivid and lifelike.

He gave it a general look-over without studying it in detail.

He tucked the Jade Slip into his sleeve, stood up, and walked into the house.

In the courtyard behind him, the mist drifted faintly as the twilight deepened bit by bit.