Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Ji Xingwang, a man of no great ability, never questioned the decisions of the master’s family.

He especially wouldn't make a request after the master had already decided on a matter.

This was the first time Ji Xingwang had failed to listen obediently, choosing instead to voice a request to the master. His hands were trembling with nerves, and he kept a close watch on Ji Ping’an’s expression.

Ji Ping’an remained silent.

The household’s expenses were enormous because they had to send silver every year to his sister in the Xie family to grease palms and maintain connections.

Local merchant families, no matter how wealthy, could never compare to a true aristocratic clan.

The amounts they sent were insignificant in the eyes of such families, yet their own household had long been spending beyond its means.

Otherwise, they wouldn't have chosen to sell off several storefronts this time to scrape together the silver.

There were quite a few teahouses in Qingyun County, and the Ji family’s business was hardly thriving compared to the others.

It was no wonder it had been included among the properties to be sold.

Ji Ping’an, of course, didn't believe Shen Yuan had any method to turn the teahouse’s business around and make it profitable.

But he knew that Shen Yuan’s reason for trying to make the teahouse earn money was simply to better his own lot.

Ji Xingwang’s visit today was likely intended to get him to talk Shen Yuan out of such pie-in-the-sky ideas.

After all, he was the one who had recommended the boy. If Shen Yuan truly wanted to do something, Ji Xingwang wouldn't be able to stop him.

The reason the manager had changed his tune at the last moment was that selling the teahouse affected Ji Xingwang’s own future.

Whatever the reason, at least for Ji Ping’an, selling the teahouse wouldn't affect him much; on the contrary, it would solve the family’s current predicament.

Getting involved in this matter would be troublesome.

Ji Ping’an didn't want to get involved.

Standing off to the side, Ji Xingwang saw Ji Ping’an’s frown deepening as he grew more impatient. He was so scared he was ready to drop to his knees and plead for mercy, admitting he’d been babbling nonsense.

Just as Ji Xingwang’s legs went weak, he heard the young master sitting in the chair say irritably, "I will go to the teahouse to see Shen Yuan tomorrow at a quarter past nine."

Ji Ping’an really didn't want to bother.

But his mind recalled the image of Shen Yuan spending two coins to buy him a sesame cake when he saw he was hungry, and the scene of that scrawny frame rushing out to save someone.

The words "I won't go," which were on the tip of his tongue, simply couldn't be spoken.

Two coins weren't much to him, but for Shen Yuan that day, they were a fortune.

Ji Ping’an’s face was dark as thunder. "Once you accept a favor, you owe a debt." He should have starved to death that day rather than accept that sesame cake.

That's why he really couldn't stand people trying to cozy up to him; they were so damn annoying.

Truly, utterly annoying.

Ji Xingwang thought his ears were playing tricks on him. He never expected the young master would actually agree to meet Shen Yuan and hear his money-making method!

Didn't this mean there was a chance the teahouse wouldn't be sold?

Ji Xingwang rejoiced inwardly, but seeing Ji Ping’an’s miserable expression, he couldn't understand why the young master was so angry.

He didn't dare disturb him further and quickly nodded, saying, "I understand, sir. I'll take my leave."

...

"Boss, come sit down and rest. You've been standing at the door since early morning; aren't your legs tired?"

Auntie Sanhua had gone to the morning market to buy the ingredients for the teahouse. When she left, Ji Xingwang was standing at the door; when she returned, he was still there, seemingly not having moved an inch.

Ji Xingwang’s heart was burning with anticipation for Shen Yuan’s arrival. It felt like he had nails in his backside; he simply couldn't sit still.

He was a ball of fire and had little patience. His tone was agitated as he snapped, "Go, go, go. Hurry up and get to the kitchen. Don't worry about what your manager is doing."

Her well-meaning advice had not been well received. Auntie Sanhua secretly rolled her eyes, hefted her vegetable basket, and snorted, "I spoke out of turn. Early in the morning, my good intentions were taken for ill will, scolded for no reason. I'll keep my mouth shut from now on!"

Ji Xingwang had no mind to explain. As Auntie Sanhua stomped off in a huff, he continued peering down the road, showing no intention of going inside.

Why hasn't Shen Yuan arrived yet!

It's really driving him crazy.

If only he had listened when Shen Yuan spoke yesterday; he was kicking himself with regret!

Unaware that Manager Ji had already become a "Shen Yuan-watching stone," Shen Yuan was currently being pulled along by Wang Sanhu.

After meeting at the village entrance, Shen Yuan had said, "Brother Sanhu, I need to think about something while we walk. Hold onto me a bit so I don't walk into a ditch."

Wang Sanhu hadn't taken it seriously at first. No matter how much one was thinking, they would still notice their surroundings, right?

But because it was Shen Yuan who said it, he agreed immediately.

As they walked, Wang Sanhu realized that whatever Shen Yuan was pondering was no simple matter.

Shen Yuan was truly only moving his legs; his mind was not on his surroundings at all.

Sanhu had just pulled him back from veering off course, but not two steps later, he saw the man heading straight for a small ditch again.

Seeing no alternative, Wang Sanhu simply held onto Shen Yuan’s arm and guided him along.

He couldn't let his brother be interrupted while pondering weighty matters.

Last night, Shen Yuan had finally decided on the genre for his first story.

While calculating the summer taxes, Shen Yuan had thought about saving up some money later to erect a memorial for the original owner of this body.

He didn't know where the original soul had gone. There was a fifty percent chance it was in his own body, and another fifty percent chance it was truly dead.

If it was in his body, that was fine.

But if it was truly dead, with no grave and no one to burn paper money for it, Shen Yuan’s conscience wouldn't rest easy.

He didn't want to gamble on that fifty percent chance.

Thinking of the memorial, Shen Yuan inevitably thought of Old Man Xu.

A few days ago, the old man had mentioned erecting cenotaphs for his three sons who died in battle and set a date to come find him in Dashu Village.

Still no sign of the man, and Shen Yuan figured it must be due to a lack of money.

After all, there were three graves to tend to, a sick wife at home needing medicine, and Lao Xutou himself was getting on in years—earning money was a struggle.

As he pondered, his thoughts turned to the absence of any culture surrounding death here.

No King of Hell, no underworld, no ghosts.

After death, there was no solace for the soul.

The first story should resonate with as many people as possible. Shen Yuan had stayed up all night pondering, barely sleeping, and the more he thought, the more he felt a ghost story would suit the current Wu Country perfectly.

Years of constant war meant that every ordinary family in Wu Country had lost someone to the fighting.

Countless soldiers lay buried in the soil of foreign lands, their remains never recovered.

In a Wu Country without the concept of lingering spirits, the people didn’t even know they could build cenotaphs for their loved ones—both to honor the dead and to ease the grief of the living.

Shen Yuan was certain that ghost stories would be highly appealing here.

But he couldn’t write about the spirits of soldiers.

That was too heavy.

The patrons who could afford the teahouse wouldn’t want to hear it; some of them came from families where no men had even been conscripted.

With enough money and power, anything was possible.

If something couldn't be done, it just meant you weren't rich or powerful enough.

By the time he usually woke up, Shen Yuan finally settled on what kind of ghost story would best fit the audience's psychology.

A love story between a human and a ghost—tender, poignant, and romantic.

It was exactly what an audience that lacked for nothing but entertainment would love.

This was a genre tested and proven by the ancestors of his past life—it was bound to be a hit!

With the theme decided, Shen Yuan spent the journey to the county town roughly outlining the story in his mind.

A scholar and a ghost were out of the question, as there were no imperial exams here.

He spent some time considering the protagonists' identities, finally settling on a nobleman from a prestigious family falling in love with an ordinary female physician.

This mismatched love, lacking social equivalence, faced countless obstacles.

Shen Yuan could think of eight hundred twists to keep the leads entangled, making them face life-and-death situations several times, until the male lead eventually died protecting the female lead.

His spirit, unwilling to leave because of his love, stayed by his beloved’s side.

Whenever the female lead was in danger, she miraculously escaped, sensing her loved one was there watching over her...

Shen Yuan was grateful that Wu Country had open social customs without extreme gender segregation.

This allowed his story more room for plot development and greater dramatic tension.

Upon entering the county town, Shen Yuan had to part ways with Wang Sanhu.

Before leaving, Wang Sanhu repeatedly urged Shen Yuan to set aside his thoughts for a moment and not get lost in them while walking the county roads.

There were horses here; getting hit wouldn't be good.

Shen Yuan's story already had a general direction, and the distance to the teahouse was short; he couldn't think of much more in such a brief time anyway. Safety was indeed the most important thing, so he nodded repeatedly in agreement.

The Teahouse.

From afar, Ji Xingwang spotted a familiar figure. His body jolted, and he immediately hurried forward to greet him.

As the distance closed and he confirmed it was Shen Yuan, Ji Xingwang’s tense, anxious nerves relaxed considerably.

“Oh! Xiao Yuan, you’re finally here! I’ve been waiting forever!” Ji Xingwang said with a worried face, eagerly pulling Shen Yuan along.

Thinking he was late, Shen Yuan glanced at the sky and then at the passersby—everything seemed the same as usual.

“Manager, am I late today?” Shen Yuan asked nervously, hoping his pay wouldn't be docked. He had no money...

Ji Xingwang quickly shook his head. “No, no, it’s just that I have something to ask of you!”

Remembering how he had refused to even listen to Shen Yuan’s money-making idea the day before, Ji Xingwang’s old face flushed with embarrassment. But now wasn't the time to be stubborn; he had to settle things with Shen Yuan before the young master arrived.

“It’s like this. I went to the main family’s house yesterday.”

With a favor to ask, Ji Xingwang dared not hide a thing. He explained why he went to the main family, how he heard the news that the teahouse was to be sold, and everything that followed.

“The young master said he would come to the teahouse to see you at 9:15 a.m. today. That’s just over half an hour from now.”

Shen Yuan: !!!

What! The teahouse was being sold!

This wouldn't do; he hadn't made any money yet!

He couldn't even ensure his own basic safety, let alone earn a living.

No wonder Manager Ji was as frantic as an ant on a hot pan—Shen Yuan was starting to panic too.

As for the fact that the manager had gone to the main family to have Ji Ping’an dissuade him, Shen Yuan didn’t take it to heart.

Ensuring the stable development of the teahouse was the manager's duty; it was understandable.

Ji Xingwang, however, cared deeply about it. The very thing he had rejected out of a lack of initiative had become his lifeline, his one glimmer of hope.

He secretly vowed that if this worked out, he would listen attentively to whatever Shen Yuan said from now on.

It wasn't a good place to talk outside, so the two quickened their pace.

Upon reaching the teahouse, they went straight to a private room on the second floor—it was quiet and bright.

Ji Xingwang personally poured tea for Shen Yuan. “You must be tired from the walk. Quick, have some tea.”

He was indeed a bit thirsty.

With that thought, Shen Yuan picked up the cup and began to drink.

Because it was quite hot, he drank slowly.

Once Shen Yuan actually started drinking the tea, Ji Xingwang grew anxious again, desperate to know exactly what Shen Yuan’s money-making idea was.

With the young master about to arrive, he was still completely in the dark.

What if the method Shen Yuan proposed sounded useless to the young master? Ji Xingwang still needed to discuss other approaches with him to avoid suggesting some half-baked idea that would only make the young master angrier.

But no matter how anxious he was, he didn't dare rush Shen Yuan.

Fortunately, Shen Yuan only took a couple of sips and put the cup down because it was too hot, then spoke up: "My idea for making money is storytelling. It’d be best to find someone literate to compile the stories into books. That way, the storyteller can read directly from the text so there won't be any mistakes or parts left out. You could also call it professional storytelling, or being a *shuoshu* performer."

Ji Xingwang felt like he had heard the words but hadn't grasped the meaning.

Storytelling, compiling into books, *shuoshu*.

He sort of understood the meaning, but what exactly were these things? He knew about stories—tales of old. But could such things become expensive books? And they needed to be specially told out loud...

Ji Xingwang started to think Shen Yuan had lost his marbles.

But this time, he held back his tongue and asked very humbly, "Xiao Yuan, what does digging up old tales have to do with the teahouse turning a profit?"

He didn't understand. He truly didn't understand.

These were completely unrelated matters.

Shen Yuan: ...

He had forgotten that "story" at this time only referred to ancient or old events.

"How about this: before Brother Ping'an arrives, let me give you a demonstration." Since explaining was hard, it was better to just tell one. After hearing it, he would naturally understand.

Ji Xingwang nodded, though he only half-understood.

Shen Yuan poured himself another cup to cool it off. By the time he finished speaking, he could drink them both to quench his thirst.

Fortunately, he'd thought up a rough plot on the way here today.

If he only told the beginning, he could manage it.

Shen Yuan took a moment to collect himself, then began, "Story has it that in the previous dynasty, there was a great and noble family named Chu, of such high status they were almost unapproachably noble—"

Chu Qi, the heir of the main family line, was handsome, tall, a child of fortune, and accomplished in both literary and martial arts.

On his nineteenth birthday, Chu Qi went hunting in the mountains with his friends. Out of nowhere, they were caught in a downpour, and he accidentally fell off a cliff.

By some miracle, Chu Qi was caught by a tree branch extending from the cliff face, but his head still suffered a heavy blow, knocking him unconscious.

Liu Mingqing had studied medicine with her grandfather since childhood and was highly skilled.

Her grandfather was too old to enter the mountains anymore, and no one else in the family was left to carry on the medical knowledge, so the task of gathering herbs fell to her.

That day, she came to the mountains to collect herbs. The herbs she needed grew on the steep cliffs. Fortunately, a ledge jutted out from the cliff face, wide enough to walk on, and there was a cave in the middle where she could catch her breath and rest a while.

Early autumn was the best season for that herb to grow, and with winter approaching, Liu Mingqing thought of picking more so she could process and store them for a long time.

As a result, she lost track of time while picking and hadn't noticed the weather turning, ending up stranded by the heavy rain with no way back.

Liu Mingqing had no choice but to rest in the cave.

As she sorted herbs inside the cave while listening to the rain, she suddenly heard a noise from the tree outside, loud enough to be heard over the rain.

Liu Mingqing's heart skipped a beat, thinking it might be a wild beast jumping onto the tree.

Then she would be in danger.

It wasn't easy to escape from here; she'd end up as its next meal.

Liu Mingqing held her iron pickaxe for digging up herbs and waited for a while, but she didn't hear any animal cries, nor did she see any beast trying to enter the cave.

Steeling herself, she walked toward the cave entrance.

Peeking her head out, she looked at the tree not far away.

Well! No beast, but there was a person lying there!

It was pouring outside. If she didn't drag the person into the cave in time, they would surely be swept off the ledge by the rain.

As a healer, Liu Mingqing couldn't stand by and watch someone die.

Years of herb-gathering had made her strong.

The tree was right next to the cave, and there was a large rock extending a bit from the entrance. Liu Mingqing carefully stood at the edge, gripping the legs of the person on the tree tightly, preparing to pull them into the cave.

There was no room for error. There was a gap between the tree and the cave, and the large rock wasn't very wide.

Plus, it was slippery from the rain. If she failed on the first try, she might be pulled down with him.

At this point, Shen Yuan stopped abruptly.

Ji Xingwang was clenching his fists, staring nervously at Shen Yuan. "And then? And then? Did Doctor Liu manage to save Young Master Chu?"

Shen Yuan drank both cups of cooled tea in one gulp.

"You'll have to wait for the official telling to hear the rest. Well, Manager, what's your verdict?"

Hearing that Shen Yuan wouldn't continue, Ji Xingwang couldn't help but widen his eyes.

How did he feel? He felt like the sky had fallen!

"How can you stop right there! You can't leave me hanging like that!"

Author's Note:

----------------------