Wandering Gods of Day and Night-Chapter 71 - 68 Huang Daxian
71: Chapter 68 Huang Daxian
71 -68 Huang Daxian
Zhou Xuan had gone back, but the crowd didn’t disperse immediately.
They continued munching on sunflower seeds they hadn’t finished, sipping tea, and chatting about the plot of the story.
Some little boys, impatient, grabbed sticks and started mimicking Xu Liang’s Golden Silk Big Ring Saber…
…
After taking a bath, Zhou Xuan returned to his room, sat cross-legged, and entered the Heart Incense Secret Realm.
Inside the Secret Realm, it was a rare day of bright sunshine and gentle breeze.
The speed of the Paperman Boatman rowing the boat increased.
The Heart Incense had burned another half an inch.
“The Alien Ghost’s blood only burned two inches, but after telling just four episodes, it burned half an inch.
*Storytelling really accumulates incense quickly.*”
*After all, you can tell stories every day, but encountering an Alien Ghost is rare.*
Out of one foot of incense, there were only seven inches left to burn.
…
Seeing the effect, Zhou Xuan’s fatigue from storytelling dissipated significantly.
He took out some paper and pen, wrote another episode of Liang Zhi, and then slept soundly.
“Master, you have come…
much closer to me again.”
The Boatman in the Secret Realm murmured.
…
In the morning, Zhou Xuan first checked the day’s newspaper for Blood Well Society’s secret codes…
but there were none.
Taking advantage of the fact that the cafeteria had not yet opened, he returned to his room to write more of the story Liang Zhi.
He became so absorbed in writing that he forgot to eat breakfast, and only remembered when his stomach grumbled at noon that he needed to eat.
Zhou Xuan closed his notebook, feeling something wasn’t right.
He could still occasionally hear the sound of the boat’s prow splashing through water in the Secret Realm—quite loudly, at that.
He focused his mind into the Secret Realm and found that the Heart Incense was still burning, about one-third of an inch this time.
“Why is it still burning?”
Zhou Xuan went to the cafeteria to grab his meal and asked Yuan Buyu.
Yuan Buyu chuckled and said, “The good thing about accumulating incense through storytelling is that while you’re telling the story, the incense burns, and after you stop, it continues to burn for a while…
like an echo lingering in the rafters.”
Zhou Xuan understood then: The listeners of the storytelling didn’t stop thinking about the story’s characters and events even after it ended; as long as they kept reminiscing, Wish Power was still being generated, and the storyteller’s incense kept burning.
“Xiao Xuan, your story is too captivating.”
Xu Li, holding a bowl of food, saw Zhou Xuan and joked, “For the entire morning, none of the working masters or apprentices were in the right frame of mind; they kept muttering about Xu Liang.
Does it really have such a huge charm?
Lao Yu even kicks his blanket in his sleep, claiming he’s flying over rooftops.”
“Sister-in-law doesn’t like Martial Heroes; next time I’ll write a melodrama that you’ll love.” Zhou Xuan chuckled.
“I’ll be waiting then.
Fights and battles aren’t her thing; she prefers love and romance.”
…
For the next two days, Zhou Xuan went into full power mode.
He spent his days writing Liang Zhi and nights performing storytelling.
With over one hundred people from the troupe chatting about ‘The White-Browed Hero’ all day, the story’s popularity never waned from day to night; the incense accumulated rapidly.
At this moment, the Heart Incense had five inches left!
“The second incense will be ready soon.”
…
This was Zhou Xuan’s fourth day of storytelling.
The performance started at 8 PM, but by 6:30, people were already bringing their small stools to save a spot.
The story was so popular not only among the troupe members and neighborhood folk but also attracted listeners from seven or eight streets away who had caught wind of it.
The Zhou Family’s Troupe welcomed everyone.
After all, Zhou Lingyi had made it clear: as long as there was space in the courtyard, no listeners would be turned away.
The more people, the faster Zhou Xuan accumulated incense!
By around 7 PM, the place was bustling with people, and by 7:50, many newcomers could only stand on the flower beds at the edge of the courtyard to listen.
“It’s a pity there’s no ceiling fan; otherwise, we could sell a couple more ceiling tickets,” Zhou Xuan thought, happy at the sea of people.
All my incense!
The book ‘The White-Browed Hero’ had been narrated for three days already, and the story’s progression was becoming increasingly exciting with the audience’s enthusiasm unyielding.
At 7:55, Zhou Xuan finally stepped onto the stage to warm up the crowd.
The audience was already shouting in unison,
“What kind of saber is it?”
“Golden Silk Big Ring Saber.”
“Sword…”
The audience was egging each other on, with one group chanting the first half of a phrase and another finishing it, the atmosphere incredibly lively.
Zhou Xuan felt like this was not a storytelling session but a concert, and those coming weren’t merely listeners but fans!
*”Am I an icon now?”*
Zhou Xuan thought to himself.
After recalling the story Liang Zhi and reviewing the moves he would perform, Zhou Xuan prepared to strike the gavel when the big-bellied man came again.
He showed up every day, arriving neither too early nor too late, just in time for the opening.
However, there was no place left for him to sit; even standing was difficult.
So, he plopped on the yellow soil at the stage edge, holding his cheeks to enjoy the storytelling.
Zhou Lingyi, as usual, moved a chair to sit not far from the big-bellied man.
“Pa!”
“Last time we left off—risking it all, Sword Immortal besieging the prison, heroes combating demons with the White-Browed Hero sacrificing his life.”
“Continuing from before, the three Northern heroes, Ouyang Chun, Wei Zhen the Crane of the Clouds, and the Black Demon Fox Zhi Hua…”
With three performances under his belt, Zhou Xuan’s stage presence had grown; his gestures indeed carried the flair of a tea house storyteller.
Within a few opening sentences, the audience was enraptured, listening with rapt attention and becoming completely absorbed in the tale.
But there were some who couldn’t get into the story, privately chatting away.
Such as Third Brother Li Shuangyi.
Li Shuangyi only loved opera, not storytelling, and he was there accompanying his apprentice, Tong Douzi.
Sitting by the flower bed, as soon as Zhou Xuan began storytelling, he started to tell Tong Douzi, “Douzi, do you hear this?
Your Uncle Zhou Xuan can’t project his voice well.
After several days of storytelling, his voice is clearly hoarse.
You mustn’t emulate him.”
Tong Douzi had no time to respond, so engrossed was he in the storytelling.
Li Shuangyi, quite patient, repeated the caution twice, but Tong Douzi didn’t listen.
Instead, a voice came from a window near the flower bed.
“Li Shuangyi, stop chattering; you’re disrupting our story listening.”
“Exactly, and with your broken voice, how do you teach anyone vocal techniques?”
The window belonged to Liu Jiaotian’s residence.
Zhou Family’s Troupe’s star member, Liu Jiaotian, known for her talents in color, step, and voice, earned a good income and didn’t usually live with the troupe.
She lived in a foreign-style house but had come to the dormitory today to listen to Zhou Xuan’s storytelling.
Apart from her, there were a few young actors in the dormitory.
Those young actors usually looked down on Li Shuangyi, and upon hearing him trying to teach, they seized the chance to mock.
“Hmph.”
Li Shuangyi, hearing their mockery, hung his head, stewing in silent anger, and ignored them.
But Liu Jiaotian, gripping her opium pipe, couldn’t stand it anymore and told the nearby young actor to close the window.
Once the window was shut, Liu Jiaotian swung the opium pipe, delivering a hard slap on the cheeks of the two who were mocking Li Shuangyi, leaving red marks.
After that, she turned slightly, smoking the pipe while saying, “Who do you think you are to look down on Brother Li?
Back in the day, with our master, his vocal skills were better than mine…”
“Then why is he like this now?”
“That question should be directed at the Young Master; if not for the two clumps of red charcoal he used that damaged Brother Li’s voice, the most famous actor in Ping Shui Prefecture’s pear garden circuit would have been Brother Li…”
…
“Douzi, listen to the story by yourself, and be careful when leaving after it’s over; don’t rush and get trampled on.”
After advising, Li Shuangyi sighed, squeezed through the crowd, and headed toward the dormitory.
“Great!
Great!”
Tong Douzi was once again exhilarated by the storytelling, raising both hands and repeatedly shouting good.
Zhou Xuan struck the gavel.
“Pa!”
“To find out what happens next, tune in to the next episode.”
Zhou Xuan finished an episode of storytelling.
The audience started clamoring, wanting to hear the next episode.
Once Zhou Xuan had enough tea and rest, he continued.
As per the usual routine, after finishing four episodes, Zhou Xuan insisted he wouldn’t continue.
The audience had gotten accustomed to four episodes a day; after raising a ruckus, they quieted down.
“We will continue the performance tomorrow, so please continue to support us.”
Zhou Xuan planned to perform for another day, but the day after tomorrow, he insisted on resting since his voice and energy were both strained.
Just as he was about to leave, someone called out to him.
“Storytelling teacher, please wait.”
Zhou Xuan turned back to see that the person who stopped him was the big-bellied man.
The man first cupped his hands in salute, then shouted, “Hey, kids, how’d you like the storytelling from this teacher here?”
“It’s great, great!”
“Love listening to it.”
“Grandma’s birthday needs his storytelling.”
“Been listening for four days, and besides this teacher, we don’t acknowledge any other storytellers.”
“Don’t acknowledge~”
“Then don’t hide around, pay the reward first and then the down payment for grandma’s birthday.”
From the man’s stomach came seven or eight different voices.
Without delay, the man unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his belly.
On his belly was a pit, and looking into it, one could see a bunch of furry things swaying,
Upon closer inspection, it was a belly full of ferrets, commonly referred to as yellow-skinned or noble spirits in folklore!
