On their way back, Wang Sanniang asked Chen Changsheng about it. When she heard it was settled, she was overjoyed. To celebrate, she specially made dumplings stuffed with vegetables.

Ping’an and Ruyi ate two big bowls each. Steam puffed from their mouths as they kept stuffing dumplings in.

“You really shouldn’t have gone to such expense,” Chen Changsheng said.

Wang Sanniang laughed. “What kind of talk is that? None of that, now. Just eat your dumplings.”

Chen Changsheng ate one bowl, then gave the rest to Ruyi and Ping’an.

While eating, Ruyi asked, “Uncle Chen, Mother said you’re going to be a storyteller. What’s a storyteller? Is it like a teacher?”

“It’s not the same at all.”

Chen Changsheng explained, “A teacher tells stories to educate people. A storyteller tells stories to entertain people.”

Ruyi blinked. “They both tell stories. How is that different?”

Chen Changsheng patted her head. “The stories are different, that’s all.”

Ruyi insisted, “Ruyi thinks telling stories should be the same thing.”

She had always been a stubborn little girl.

Seeing this, Chen Changsheng said, “Sure, they can also be the same.”

After all, educating people and entertaining them might well go hand in hand.

Ruyi groaned, “Uncle Chen is teasing Ruyi again, always saying things Ruyi doesn’t understand!”

Chen Changsheng laughed heartily.

Wang Sanniang smiled too, stroking Ruyi’s head. “Uncle Chen isn’t teasing you. Ruyi, you’re too young to understand now. When you grow older and learn more, you’ll know what Uncle Chen means.”

Ruyi sulkily ate three big dumplings in a row, finally satisfied.

Seeing his older sister eat so fast, Ping’an stuffed half a dumpling into his mouth, as if racing her.

The next morning,

thin mist drifted over Qingshan City. It came in from the mountain stream, bringing a fresh coolness. The light fog made the morning a little cooler.

Manager Zhuang was indeed thoughtful. At a quarter past seven, he sent a clerk to invite Chen over.

The clerk knocked. When the door opened, he saw the Green-Robed Gentleman standing before him.

The clerk froze for a moment, struck by the gentleman’s extraordinarily handsome face and refined aura.

Seeing the clerk stunned, Chen Changsheng asked, “Are you from the teahouse?”

“Ah, yes!” The clerk straightened up quickly. “I’m Cao Fa, at your service, Mr. Chen. Just call me Xiao Cao.”

“You’re too kind. I planned to head over myself but was beaten to it.”

Cao Fa, ever the polite teahouse clerk, smoothly replied, “Please don’t say that, sir. The manager praised you greatly yesterday. With you as our storyteller, the Tang Family Teahouse will become even more splendid. This invitation was absolutely necessary!”

Chen Changsheng smiled gently. “We’re all just trying to make a living. No need for flattery. Let’s chat casually.”

Cao Fa said, “You’re very gracious, sir.”

“Shall we go?”

Clerk Cao couldn’t help but sprinkle his words with compliments—not because his job was lowly, but out of long habit.

They arrived at the teahouse before half past seven. Cao Fa escorted Chen Changsheng to the back.

Chen Changsheng remarked, “Quite a crowd at the teahouse today.”

Cao Fa grinned. “That’s right! They all heard you’ll be telling stories today. That’s why so many came.”

Just then, Manager Zhuang spotted Chen Changsheng and hurried over to greet him.

The teahouse buzzed with chatter.

“So… How good is this new storyteller?”

“I heard Manager Zhuang say he’s fantastic. Stayed just to see for myself.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Honestly, without storytelling these past days, the tea felt dull. Made me sleepier the more I drank!”

“You said it.”

As they whispered, Manager Zhuang stepped onto the stage.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen! These past days, our stage has been silent, lacking its usual charm. Manager Zhuang apologizes to you all! I racked my brains to finally invite Mr. Chen. He will now grace our Tang Family Teahouse!”

Someone from below shouted, “Old Zhuang, enough chatter! Bring the storyteller on!”

Manager Zhuang nodded. “Alright, no more talk! Everyone, enjoy your tea and the tale!”

His words gave Chen Changsheng immense face and set high expectations. Clearly, he trusted Chen deeply.

As Zhuang stepped down and passed Chen, he whispered,

“Please, Mr. Chen, you must captivate the audience!”

Chen Changsheng smiled gently. “Rest assured, Manager.”

He stepped onto the stage alone.

Everyone stared, momentarily stunned.

“What a handsome young man!”

“Such presence!”

Chen Changsheng stood behind the table. Picking up a folding fan, he clasped his hands respectfully.

“My surname is Chen. Wine delights me before tea, hence my courtesy name is Jiucha. I deeply thank you all for honoring this humble teahouse with your presence today.”

Murmurs rippled through the room.

“Chen Jiucha? Intriguing name.”

“Less talk, more story!”

“Agreed!”

Seeing their enthusiasm, Chen wasted no time. He declared, “You clearly prefer tales over talk. So, let’s begin the skill!”

“There exists a work by an earlier scholar named Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio. Also known as Tales of Ghosts and Foxes, it spans twelve volumes with over 400 stories. It recounts spirits, fox demons, immortals, Buddhas, ghosts, and deities, each tale extraordinary. Today, I will recount one such story—‘The Case of Rouge’.”

SLAP!

He slapped a storyteller’s block. The sharp crack instantly silenced any murmurs about this unfamiliar book.

Manager Zhuang, listening backstage, gulped.

“He’s not performing Journey to the West?”

A sliver of worry pricked him.

“This story unfolds east of Xiao Mountain. It tells of a veterinarian named Bian. He had a clever, bright daughter named Rouge.”

“Dr. Bian cherished his daughter and wished for her to marry into a scholarly family. But the noble families of that region saw his family as too lowly. None would marry their sons to him. Thus, Rouges grew up without finding a suitable match…”

At first, listeners below assumed this was merely another love tale, losing interest quickly.

But as the storyteller continued, their expressions shifted.

“Magistrate Shi Xue ordered each suspect seized. Once rounded up, he had them kneel before the City God’s altar. ‘A deity revealed in my dream,’ he announced, ‘that the murderer stands among you four or five. Before this sacred altar, speak truthfully! A confession earns leniency. Lies bring severe punishment!’ Yet all denied the crime. Magistrate Shi commanded torture tools set out!”

“As officers secured their hair and stripped their clothes, they screamed innocence. Magistrate Shi halted the punishment. ‘Since you deny guilt,’ he declared, ‘let the gods expose the murderer.'”

“He ordered heavy wool felt cover every window, blocking all outside light. Then he drove the bare-backed prisoners into the darkened chamber.”

“First, each was given water to wash their hands. Then they were tethered against the wall with this warning: ‘Face the wall—do not move! The guilty man will bear the deity’s writing upon his back!'”

“Sometime later, they were summoned forth. Magistrate Shi examined each back closely. Finally, he pointed at Mao Da. ‘This man is the murderer!'”

“Indeed, Magistrate Shi had secretly smeared white ash on the prison walls before their arrival. He’d also added black soot to their washwater. The true killer, terrified the god would brand him, pressed his back tightly against the ash-covered wall. Fleeing the dark room, he shielded his soot-blackened back with his hands—leaving both ash stains and sooty handprints. Thus the killer was revealed!”

The listeners burst into sighs.

“Wonderful…”

“This storyteller certainly knows his craft!”