"The Little Mermaid raised her shining arms towards God's sun, feeling the urge to cry for the first time. She lowered her head, smiled at the Prince, then joined the other children in the air, riding a rose-colored cloud into the sky: 'In this way, after three hundred years, we can ascend to Heaven!'"
...
Finished.
Lin Xian placed the fairy tale book on her lap and looked up at the ceiling.
"Huang Que got it wrong."
No.
Lin Xian shook her head:
"Maybe she deliberately deceived me."
"The book doesn't say that the Little Mermaid immediately obtained an immortal soul... Doesn't she still have to toil for another three hundred years, to contribute another three hundred years of goodness to this world before she can obtain an immortal soul and ascend to Heaven?"
Lin Xian smiled helplessly.
Sometimes, it's really hard to say whether such fairy tales are comedies or tragedies.
The mind's state differs.
So does the outcome one sees.
"Three hundred years, six hundred years."
