Chapter 84: The Opening

After the ladies had sighed for a while, Zhan Wenjun asked in a low voice, "Sir, you visited the Magistrate today—I wonder if Magistrate Gu has agreed to our request?"

Although Xu You had guaranteed it, Gu Yun was of noble birth and held himself in high regard. Since arriving in Qiantang, he rarely met with local gentry, and even fewer were ever invited into his inner chambers, let alone commoners. It was notoriously difficult to forge a connection with him, so Zhan Wenjun was anxious, her gaze filled with both expectation and a hint of urgency.

"Rest assured, Madam. Magistrate Gu understands the difficulties the Zhan family faces and has agreed to our plea. If the Prefect’s Office truly issues a mandate for the Celestial Masters to act in Qiantang, he has his own ways of dealing with it. He may not be able to outright reject it, but he can certainly delay it for a time and maneuver around it."

Zhan Wenjun’s face brightened, ripples of relief dancing in her beautiful eyes. She glanced at Xu You, then lowered her head and said, "This is all thanks to your intervention, sir. Otherwise, I doubt we could have persuaded Magistrate Gu."

The last time Gu Yun had personally come to the Zhibin Pavilion to mediate their dispute, it was because Zhan Wenjun had filed a formal petition with the county office regarding the kidnapping of Zhan Yun. Legal principles were on her side, so he had lowered himself to come in person to uphold the law—a duty of a magistrate acting as a "parental official," not out of a desire to take sides for the Zhan family. But this time, asking Xu You to step in and convince Gu Yun to withstand the pressure from the Prefect’s Office to buy time was a matter of personal favor beyond legal obligation. Without a solid foundation of friendship, why would anyone risk offending Liu Quan to help her?

"You flatter me, Madam. This was not my doing alone."

Xu You did not claim credit, smiling lightly. "The Zhan family are citizens of Qiantang, having lived here for generations. If they were to be bullied and robbed, Magistrate Gu would lose face as well. Moreover, Qiantang is a major county in Wu Commandery, unlike Juzhang or Yongning. If things were to get too out of hand, it would be difficult for him to answer to his superiors. It is because of this concern that Magistrate Gu agreed."

The more modest Xu You remained, the more he appeared as a true gentleman in Zhan Wenjun’s eyes. She pursed her lips in a smile and steered away from the subject, saying, "If the Celestial Masters really do pressure us through the Prefect’s Office, in the shortest estimate, it will take ten days for the official documents to arrive and be processed, and another ten days for us to stall. That is when our opportunity will arise."

"Precisely! One month is more than enough to make the Celestial Masters fall short of their goals!"

In the poem on tea by Zhang Zai of the Western Jin dynasty, there is a line that reads, "Fragrant tea crowns the six purities, its flavor spreads to the nine regions." As the largest teahouse in Qiantang, the Six Purities Teahouse was crowded with merchants and guests every morning and evening, bustling with activity. That morning, many local tea lovers sat in small groups, either alone or with companions. A dozen waiters dressed in blue and white vests moved nimbly through the crowd, carrying tea. From time to time, one could hear someone shout, "Bring a bowl of Divine Spring!" and another reply, "Add a bowl of Bright Moon!" The din of voices rose and fell like waves.

"Divine Spring? Bright Moon? Forgive my ignorance, I have never heard of these two teas, but they seem quite popular..." Xu You, sitting at a corner table, turned to ask Zhan Wenjun, who was dressed in men's attire beside him.

Zhan Wenjun’s face was lightly powdered, her hair neatly styled with a black veil draped over her head. She wore a crimson robe with broad sleeves. Her starry eyes were dark as ink, her skin as white as snow, and with her tall, graceful stature, even sitting on her heels, she stood out like a crane in a flock of chickens, possessing an extraordinary air that no one else could match.

She chuckled, a sound like spring arriving on the earth. "You are observant, sir. These teas are nothing but common things, meant for people to gulp down to quench their thirst. The names are just made to sound elegant, catering to those who wish to appear refined."

The so-called Divine Spring and Bright Moon sounded sophisticated, but in the Six Dynasties, the common folk drank tea gathered from ordinary tea trees. The variety was singular, the taste bitter, and after picking, the leaves were not stir-fried but boiled directly into a broth, consumed like vegetable soup. That was why these tea drinkers would shout for "another bowl"—and this was a literal bowl used for eating meals!

As for the wealthy, there were minor improvements; for instance, they used specialized tea cups that were easier to hold and looked more refined. They used only the tender buds, which tasted slightly better, but without exception, it was all raw-boiled.

"I see!" Xu You laughed. "I have committed the error of empiricism!"

"Empiricism?" Zhan Wenjun raised an eyebrow, puzzled by the term.

"Uh... it just means I took the name too literally..."

"Your wit is always refreshing, sir."

Xu You smiled bitterly. "Thank God, at least you didn't mention Yu Fahu this time..."

Zhan Wenjun laughed aloud, drawing glances from those nearby. She stuck out her tongue, showing a rare, youthful playfulness. Xu You was momentarily dazed, suddenly remembering that by the standards of his past life, this Madam Guo, who was struggling to hold everything together under the pressure of constant crises, was still just a young girl.

At that moment, a waiter stepped out and cupped his hands to the crowd, greeting them. The room went quiet. He bowed and said respectfully, "Dear fellow townsmen, our proprietor knows that you all find the tea a bit dull every day, so he has spent a great sum to hire a storyteller to share a tale with you. If you like it, please come back every day at the appointed time. If you don't like it, well, I apologize, but perhaps you should have your ears checked."

The crowd erupted in laughter. Those who gathered in the teahouse were generally common folk without much pretension. Someone immediately shouted, "That’s not right! If the story is bad, your master should compensate us for our ears!"

"Yes, yes... that makes sense. If it’s not good, the tea should be on the house today, right?"

"Li Fu, you’re just trying to take advantage! How pathetic!" Someone stood up and mocked, "The tea money doesn't matter; whether it's free or not, I can afford it. But what is a 'storyteller'? From ancient times to the present, among all walks of life, I’ve never heard of such a profession!"

Li Fu scoffed and said, "Han Qi, you can't even read a single character—what do you know about the walks of life? Let me tell you, a storyteller is just... just..."

"Just what? Go on, tell us." A familiar face nearby, knowing Li Fu couldn't explain it, teased him in front of everyone.

Li Fu slapped his thigh, a flash of inspiration hitting him. "It’s those scholars who are always nodding their heads—they’re just telling the truths from the sages' books to us, so they took the name 'storyteller'!"

The crowd went silent, stunned by Li Fu’s logic. Scholars usually read to themselves, so wouldn't a "storyteller" be someone who reads to others? Seeing Li Fu looking smug, Han Qi snorted and sat back down, unable to think of a rebuttal, and grew secretly angry until his face turned blue.

Watching this farce, Lishuang, sitting beside Zhan Wenjun and also dressed in men's clothes, had a more delicate, alluring charm compared to the heroic Zhan Wenjun. She chuckled softly, "Although this man is unlearned, he actually guessed right by accident..."

Zhan Wenjun smiled. "Right, yet wrong. It would be hard to make them understand the truths of the sages' books. It is better to tell a story like the White Snake—engaging, yet containing subtle truths about how to conduct oneself and act in the world. That is much clearer and easier to understand."

Wan Qi, who had been silent all along, suddenly said, "Madam is absolutely right!"

She sat on her heels behind Zhan Wenjun, as cold and clear as fresh snow, looking out of place in the lively environment. Lishuang teased, "Wan Qi loves the 'Legend of the White Snake' written by the young master so much that she can't bear to hear a single bad word about it."

Wan Qi’s expression flickered. She secretly glanced at Xu You and, seeing that he didn't seem to mind Lishuang’s comment, felt a sense of relief, followed by a strange, lingering sense of bewilderment.

The waiter led a man in. He wore a gray round-collared robe, but unlike the wide-sleeved fashion of the day, his sleeves were tightened and bound at the wrists. Around his waist was a black cloth belt. It looked neither like a scholar's garb nor a warrior's uniform—it was simple and quite peculiar. The man sat down at the central table, where a bowl of tea, a palm-sized rectangular piece of red cedar, and a bronze bowl were laid out. He cleared his throat and said, "Greetings, everyone. Today, I am going to tell you a story—a story about a marriage between a mortal and a spirit..."

This was the opening hook, one of the techniques Lishuang had taught them. For the general public, telling a story didn't require profound vocabulary or flowery prose, nor a complex structure or deep, thought-provoking meaning. It only needed to be exotic, entertaining, engaging, and easy to understand. Possessing these four qualities formed the foundation for widespread popularity.

"During the Yongguang era of the Han Dynasty, a young medicine-gatherer living by West Lake went up the mountain to collect herbs and found a small white snake trapped in a hunter’s snare. He was kind-hearted, so he rushed forward and saved the snake. In the blink of an eye, five hundred years passed. The white snake achieved enlightenment, shed her snake skin, and took on a human form. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with charm beyond compare..."

Lishuang listened for a while and said, "Zhou Qiqiao is truly clever! Look at his expressions—his eyes widen when there is surprise, flash when there is anger, arch when there is mischief, and droop when there is sorrow. If he practices for a while longer, he will be even better."

The man telling the story in the Six Purities Teahouse was indeed Zhou Qiqiao. As the saying goes, good steel should be used on the blade; among the storytellers, Zhou Qiqiao had the best memory, the best eloquence, and was very sharp-witted. Letting him perform at the Six Purities Teahouse—the most diverse and bustling place in Qiantang—was the perfect use of his talents.

*Clack!*

The red cedar block struck the table, and the crisp sound echoed through the hall, pulling the hearts of the audience right to their throats.

"...The scholar turned his head, and Bai Suzhen recognized him. It was the same young medicine-gatherer who had saved her five hundred years ago. After ten lifetimes of reincarnation, he had become the scholar he is today..." Zhou Qiqiao shook his head and continued, "As they say, in the vast sea of people, it is neither too much nor too little—they happened to meet at this exact moment. You may wonder if the two will get to know each other, but allow me to drink some tea, and I will explain the rest later."

"Ah? That's it?"

"Don't stop! Keep going, we're all waiting to hear!"

"Yes, yes... Mister Storyteller, you can drink your tea, but you don't have to stop talking..."

Zhou Qiqiao smiled but said nothing, sipping his tea slowly. Xu You stood up, walked over, and dropped five coins into the bronze bowl. "A small token, sir, for your trouble."

Zhou Qiqiao thanked Xu You, looked around, and said, "Allow me to rest for a moment."

Seeing this, the others understood. After all, the profession of a storyteller was a brand-new thing; no one had seen it before, nor did they know the unwritten rules. With Xu You’s demonstration, those who were not short of money immediately stepped forward. In a short while, the bowl was filled with dozens of coins.

Zhou Qiqiao smiled reservedly and began again, "Bai Suzhen was wondering how to talk to the scholar when the heavens decided to help, and a rain began to fall. She hurriedly took Xiaoqing to deliver an umbrella to the scholar..."