Volume One, Chapter Twenty-Four: Zhang Jingshu Is Petty and Quick-Tempered! Who Says This Is Just a Worthless Stone?

Everyone immediately leaned in with curiosity, eager to see what rare treasure the eldest daughter of the Zhang family had brought.

But what lay before them were merely three river pebbles, each painted with a small figure.

A laugh, neither loud nor soft, rang out in the quiet pavilion, sounding particularly sharp.

“Honestly, Sister Jing Shu, where did you pick up these worthless stones? Did you really bring them out to show off as treasures?”

It was Zhao Wan’er, daughter of the deputy magistrate of Luzhou, ten years old, who spoke.

As the eldest among them, she always fancied herself the leader of these daughters of officials, delighting in issuing commands.

But Zhang Jing Shu was famously independent, never deigning to follow Zhao Wan’er’s lead. Zhao had long taken a dislike to her, and now, seizing the opportunity, she naturally pounced with ridicule.

The other young ladies, who usually followed Zhao Wan’er’s every cue, quickly covered their mouths with laughter, their words laced with barely concealed disdain.

“Exactly, so dirty—what’s so amusing about it?”

“I thought she’d brought something truly rare! Only country bumpkins play with stones!”

To these pampered daughters, crude stone toys were utterly beneath their notice, worlds apart from their golden jewelry.

Jing Shu’s delicate face stiffened; her brows arched, and that innate pride flared anew.

She did not argue—she simply extended her slender fingers and arranged the three painted pebbles in a row upon the stone table before her.

“Hmph! A bunch of ignorant bumpkins, all of you!” she sniffed, then continued, her tone suddenly tinged with a mysterious air, “Do you know what figures are painted on these stones?”

Not waiting for a response, she carried on herself: “This one is the monk Tang Seng, who went west to seek Buddhist scriptures.”

“This one is his disciple, Sun Wukong, the mighty Monkey King who subdues demons.”

“Their journey to the West brought them face to face with a formidable demon—Lady White Bone, master of disguise and deception. Look, this fierce skeleton spirit!”

She tried hard to imitate Chen Pingchuan’s storytelling voice and manner, recounting the thrilling tale of “Three Battles with the White Bone Demon.”

Though not as practiced or skillful as Chen Pingchuan, she told it with vivid drama and rising tension.

Especially when she described the demon’s transformations and Sun Wukong’s displays of power, the details kept her audience—girls who otherwise knew only embroidery and courtly manners—utterly enthralled. Their hearts leapt in their chests.

Where moments ago their faces had been full of scorn and contempt, they were now drawn into her strange and twisting narrative.

Each girl craned her pale neck, eyes wide, spellbound by the story.

When Jing Shu reached the part where Sun Wukong, with his fiery eyes, saw through the demon’s tricks but was misunderstood by the mortal Tang Seng and was unjustly banished from the group, some of the tender-hearted girls even felt their eyes grow wet, nearly shedding tears.

“What happened next? Did the monk get eaten by the demon?” Zhao Wan’er, unable to contain herself, forgot her earlier ridicule and hurriedly pressed for the answer.

“Yes, yes! Sister Jing Shu, tell us what happened after!”

Everyone chimed in, their faces now lit with anticipation, with not a trace of mockery left.

Jing Shu, seeing their impatience, felt a surge of satisfaction.

Unhurried, she gathered up her three stones, returning them to her pouch as if they were precious treasures, her chin lifted in pride.

“Who was it just now that said these were worthless stones?” she asked lazily, her gaze lingering on the visibly embarrassed Zhao Wan’er.

Wan’er’s face flushed bright red; though awkward, she could not bear to miss the rest of the story, so she stammered, “It was… it was me, Sister. I didn’t recognize their worth. Please don’t mind what I said.”

“Please, tell us what happened to the monkey!”

“It’s too late! I’ve already taken offense!” Jing Shu huffed, still teasing them. “Want to know the rest? Beg me for it!”

The girls looked uncomfortable, none willing to speak.

The youngest among them timidly reached out, her voice pleading, “Sister Jing Shu, could I… could I touch your stone, just once?”

Previously, they had thought nothing of these rough stones.

But after hearing such a magical story, the stones seemed transformed in their eyes.

No longer ordinary pebbles, they had become portals to a fantastic, wondrous world, far more precious than any jewel they owned.

Jing Shu, however, clutched her pouch to her chest and snorted, “Keep dreaming!”

“These are my treasures, priceless! No touching, no handling!”

Zhao Wan’er gritted her teeth, then seemed to steel herself, pulling a fine white jade hairpin with pearl inlay from her hair and thrusting it toward Jing Shu. Her tone was urgent, “Sister Jing Shu, I admit I was wrong! Let me trade you this hairpin for one of your stones?”

“No!” Jing Shu refused instantly. “My treasures are one of a kind—no price could buy them!”

Seeing Zhao Wan’er and the others so covetous yet helpless, Jing Shu felt a joy greater than any treasure could bring.

Even when the maid came to summon them to the front hall for the county magistrate’s wife’s birthday, the girls still gazed longingly at Jing Shu’s bulging pouch.

Jing Shu, brimming with pride, even walked with a lighter step than usual.

After the feast, as the sun slanted westward,

Jing Shu hurried straight to Chen Pingchuan’s quarters as soon as she returned to the Zhang residence.

“Lazy book boy! Get out here!”

Hands on her hips, chin raised, she was all swagger and command.

Chen Pingchuan put aside his papers and pens, emerging at a calm, measured pace.

“What does the young mistress require?” he asked quietly.

“I’ll have you know, I was the center of attention today!” Jing Shu dumped her stones out onto the table before him, displaying them like treasures.

“These stones you painted enchanted Zhao Wan’er and the others—they were utterly captivated!”

She animatedly described how she had kept her friends in suspense with the story.

“They all wanted my stones, begged me with every sweet word, nearly kneeling for them!” Jing Shu grew more and more pleased with herself, her lips curling high.

“But I wouldn’t let them touch! I just made them watch and fret!”