[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-book-of-strange-tales":3,"chapter-the-book-of-strange-tales-the-book-of-strange-tales-chapter-17":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Book of Strange Tales",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2317297,4532,"Chapter 17","the-book-of-strange-tales-chapter-17",17,"\u003Cp>The two sides gradually grew familiar with each other.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lin Jue, pretending he had rarely seen demons or ghosts and was deeply curious about their magical arts, naturally asked what kinds of spells and abilities they possessed, hoping to witness them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two gladly agreed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the demon surnamed Su, being mischievous, used the pretext of demonstrating his transformation skills to drag the demon surnamed Mo before Lin Jue—and suddenly transformed into a terrifying demon with a chunk missing from its skull, exposing its brain matter, and several dark red blood holes on its face, aiming to frighten Lin Jue.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for himself, though his deathly appearance was no better, at least he remained a complete human form.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet Lin Jue had already been frightened twice by the dog demon’s transformation techniques on the road; he was well prepared now, and with his head foggy from the late hour, he showed little reaction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He merely regretted not feeling anything unusual.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then the two demonstrated their abilities to pass through walls and exhale mist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But these were merely natural traits of ghosts; Lin Jue still felt nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally came the transport technique.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Lin Jue eagerly anticipated them moving him, hoping to learn something, he saw the two approach him—one lifting his head, the other gripping his feet—and heaved him up with force.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lin Jue fell silent at once.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“In the past, monks would sneak here to steal wine and meat, then sleep here after feasting—we used to carry them out just like this.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two spoke with evident pride.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What could Lin Jue say?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He could only offer a few compliments and continue chatting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These two truly loved poetry; likely, even after death, they found joy in it, often speaking of poems and verses, quite refined—even when Lin Jue first asked if they were demons or ghosts, they gave no direct answer, only swaying their heads and reciting doggerel: “By chance I met you by the bamboo mountain, not demon, not immortal. Know this is where bones are buried; the screech owl cries as the fourth watch begins.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Later, Lin Jue was urged and goaded by them, and after much deliberation, they composed a clumsy verse: “Distant road, light dust, dusk thickens; ancient mountain, ruined temple, night wind arrives.” There were two more lines about encountering immortal traces by chance, but he could not recall them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His head was too foggy by the second half of the night to remember.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He only remembered they burst into loud laughter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If such laughter could be heard clearly by ordinary people, the entire temple would have been kept awake that night.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the end, he did not know when he fell asleep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he drifted into a drowsy slumber, he dreamed again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The dream still held the pavilion, its furnishings largely unchanged, but the details had become ethereal and hazy; before him stood Su Xiaojin and Mo Laifeng once more.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hahaha, Brother Lin, you’re far too easily sleepy! In my lifetime, at your age, I could stay up several nights in a row with friends, composing poetry and playing chess without trouble,” Su Xiaojin laughed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lin Jue glanced at his hair and believed him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Since Brother Lin is tired, we’ve come to you in your dream,” Mo Laifeng said, his demeanor far gentler and steadier. “To be honest, we were both originally from Huizhou. Feeling hopeless about passing the imperial exams, and with the nation beset by internal strife and foreign threats, we joined the army instead. That journey led us to ten years of desert sands in the Western Regions. I died on the battlefield; Brother Su, with utmost righteousness, carried my remains thousands of miles back home.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing this, Lin Jue was startled, and looked again at the laughing demon surnamed Su.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In this age, the gentleman wielding a sword was the fashionable ideal, but the scholar taking up the halberd to join the army was the ultimate romance—such things were not uncommon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet he had never imagined he would meet such a righteous man in reality.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Carrying bones thousands of miles home—this would be a celebrated tale in any dynasty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What a pity…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The demon surnamed Su cut in, grinning: “Though I survived the battlefield, I carried wounds. For ten years, I grew used to the desert sands of the Western Regions; returning to this ink-wash homeland, I fell ill from the change in water and soil. We had promised each other that whoever died first, the survivor would ensure the other’s bones returned home. But I never fulfilled my promise.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The solemn words ended with him clapping his hands and spreading them wide, adopting a shameless posture:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And I ended up joining him!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mo Laifeng stood beside him, as if long accustomed to it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“We haven’t come to ask for your help,” Mo Laifeng said. “But last night, during the first half of the night, we heard you counting money upstairs—and sighing. We guessed you, traveling to study, must be short on funds. And after playing with you just now, we found it immensely enjoyable and perfectly matched our spirits. We also admire your virtue. So after you fell asleep, I discussed briefly with Brother Su…” He continued, “Before he died, Brother Su buried all our money beneath a small hill behind the temple’s bamboo grove. We just dug a small pit there—there’s over a hundred taels of silver and coins inside. If you’re short on funds, take some.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lin Jue froze for a moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Was this truly a stroke of luck?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He hesitated, wondering whether to accept or refuse—but then realized: wasn’t this still asking for his help?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was merely a roundabout way of saying so.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Otherwise, why not tell him to take all the money? Two ghosts were dead—what use was money to them?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“May I ask where your families live?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“North of Danxun County, Su Village.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“South of Qiuru County, Lao Village.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How far is that from here?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Only two or three hundred li.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You two defended your homeland, yet stopped just two or three hundred li from home—stuck there for over a decade. That’s truly unfortunate.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you’re willing, please carry a message to our families. Our bones are buried north of the bamboo grove. As for the buried silver, leave whatever you think appropriate for our families.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I will deliver it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lin Jue said, calm and resolute.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The dream faded quietly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lin Jue awoke—it was already broad daylight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He packed his bedding cloth, his pillow-pants, and the books beneath him into his book satchel; there was nothing else to carry. He slung the satchel over his shoulder and descended the stairs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Squeak…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pushed open the pavilion door; sunlight flooded in, striking his face, blurring his vision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He hadn’t slept well; his head still felt foggy. The events of last night felt as surreal and unreal as his experience at the Wang family ancestral hall in Heng Village—as if he’d dreamed it all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Had he really spent the whole night chatting with two ghosts?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lin Jue stood at the doorway, lost in thought for a moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he stepped outside, he realized most of the traveling merchants who had lodged there had already departed; the temple, once bustling and crowded last night, was now empty, save for a middle-aged monk sweeping the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing Lin Jue, he turned and smiled:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Master Lin, you’ve woken? You’re the latest riser—the breakfast time has nearly passed; I’m not sure if any remains.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Thank you, Master.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You look unwell. Did you not sleep well? The monks and guests all heard voices from the pavilion last night—many were awakened. Did you encounter something?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You never told me this pavilion, though long vacant, wasn’t meant for only me,” Lin Jue replied, slightly resentful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The monk paused his broom, leaning on it, and bowed in apology: “Last night, the temple relied on lodging fees from travelers to survive—we couldn’t risk telling you. Sometimes, two unusual guests do visit this pavilion. Years ago, some of our brothers encountered them. But these two are not evil; they’re half-scholars, fond of associating with literati, respectful of virtuous men. Many guests, bold and fond of tales of demons and ghosts, have stayed here peacefully with them. You’re a scholar and a virtuous man—there’s nothing to fear.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He paused, then smiled slightly: “Besides, if you’re unafraid of demons and ghosts on the road, why fear those who’ve dwelled here with us for years?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“….”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Listening to him, Lin Jue suddenly thought this monk might well be a “high monk.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Who says a high monk must possess magical powers?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Please don’t speak of this outside.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Understood, understood.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lin Jue, unsure what to say, merely nodded and followed the monk toward the dining hall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The temple’s meals were simple: breakfast was still just a bowl of thin porridge, plus one vegetable dumpling per person. The monks, idle, could make do until noon, but travelers needed to supplement with their own dried rations to last half a day. Yet now, several dumplings remained in the basket, while the porridge was gone—the monk gave them all to Lin Jue.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lin Jue thanked him, asked for clean water, washed up briefly, then sat down to eat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only a few people remained in the dining hall—a group of unfamiliar merchants, whispering about last night’s rumors: someone had been noisy, or heard of demons on the road, or other tales.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The conversation drifted to mules.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They spoke of the current price of mules, then from rising prices to the western war.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The western war had been intermittent—fighting, pausing—for decades, unchanged now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They heard our side had won, slaughtering half the people of a small city; they heard our side suffered a crushing defeat, an entire army left buried in desert sands; they heard another nation had invaded our border, burning, killing, looting without mercy—then vanished like wind before reinforcements arrived, leaving countless bones buried in sand, countless souls unable to return home. These merchants spoke all this in a few sentences over tea and meals.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Lin Jue listened, he thought of the two scholarly ghosts he’d met last night, who had returned from the western armies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still felt like a dream.\u003C\u002Fp>",1700,"2026-06-20T14:45:35.226Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","03c026ea876265dc0e7089bd1c0db38f7ace36d17fb9ba04e3450c7da86d777d","the-book-of-strange-tales-chapter-18","the-book-of-strange-tales-chapter-16",608,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-book-of-strange-tales-cover.jpg"]