The first day of the new year in the Capital Prefecture was full of festivities.

Of course, Ji Yuan naturally could not wear such thin clothes in such cold weather; he at least needed to make himself appear warm.

After the Old Dragon had gone back, Ji Yuan decided not to disturb Yin Zhaoxian’s plans. Instead, he went to the Xinpu Chess Hall out of habit.

He walked to the narrow street where the chess hall was located, and found that the hall was actually open on the first day of the new year. Although the doors were closed to keep out the cold, there was a sign welcoming guests outside.

Ji Yuan went in and took a look around. Very few servants were staffed around the store. No one was playing chess in the hall, and the owner wasn’t present either. There was only a substitute shopkeeper.

After greeting the shop assistants and wishing them a happy New Year, Ji Yuan left the store, planning to return to the abandoned third floor of the library where he had been staying lately to catch up on sleep.

The surname of the wealthy family that owned the residence was Chu. Although their mansion was close to the imperial city, they did not seem to be court officials.

The library of the residence was truly more decorative than functional. During the days Ji Yuan had spent there, he had only seen servants come to clean it twice. No one from the Chu family entered it. At most, they merely came by to fetch some books.

Of course, it might also have been that the library was too large and too cold. If one wanted to read or write, the house in front would be more comfortable.

This was good for Ji Yuan. The third floor of the library was isolated from the hustle and bustle of the city. It had a quiet atmosphere and a large collection of books. In addition to resting and practicing, he could also flip through some of the books in his spare time.

Although books were not too rare in this era, valuable books were still relatively precious, and it was relatively difficult for ordinary people or even poor scholars to acquire knowledge.

This was one of the reasons why academies were so popular. Compared to individuals who studied at home, academies not only had wise teachers to guide students, but more importantly, they had access to a large number of books. While the county, prefectural, and sometimes even provincial exams tested only basic skills, if an exam asked scholars to relate the content of a classic, how could people who had never read that classic even begin to answer the question?

As he walked down Yongning Street, Ji Yuan breathed in a trace of spiritual energy. He watched the people on the street wishing each other a happy new year. Just as he was about to turn in the direction of the Chu residence, a familiar voice in the distance caught his attention.

“One bowl of porridge, one side dish, and two meat buns. Don’t forget to get a basin of hot water. Thank you!”

“Okay, Mr. Wang, don’t worry, I’ll bring them to you in just a moment. I just bought the buns this morning.”

One of the two people who were speaking was Wang Li, the storyteller from Prince Jin’s palace. Ji Yuan could not mistake his voice. The other individual had a clear voice, and was likely a child.

After thinking for a while, Ji Yuan went in the direction where he remembered the sound had come from. He turned left, leaving Yongning Street, and entered an old alley.

The alley was about the width of two carriages. There were walled residences on both sides of the road, but these walls were quite low, not even shoulder-height. However, the courtyard gates were higher. Most of the buildings in each residence lot were made up of two or three rooms interconnected.

Each household displayed decorations like Spring Festival couplets, blessing characters pasted on their doors, and some even had red lanterns hanging. However, there was no such thing as door gods¹ or kitchen gods² in this world, so naturally there were no such statues.

Ji Yuan followed the sound of the voices and stopped outside the yard of one of the residences. He could hear four people moving about inside. Three of them were talking and laughing in the two rooms on the right, from which heat and the aroma of food wafted. The last was in a single room on the left; it was Storyteller Wang Li.

This storyteller had aroused some of Ji Yuan’s interest the night before, and Ji Yuan currently believed very deeply in fate. Since he had this encounter, he planned to enter and take a look.

He used a concealment technique and jumped lightly into the yard. Although the door was closed, he could hear the sound of grinding ink and exclamations coming from inside, making Ji Yuan certain that the man in the room was in a state of excitement and not sleepy at all.

‘This man was telling stories and performing with ventriloquism for most of last night. He should be the most exhausted person of the entire royal family banquet. Even Master Yin was so sleepy that he immediately passed out. Why is this guy so energetic? ’

Of course, Wang Li couldn’t sleep. A night’s fatigue was nothing compared to the shock of what he had seen and heard the night before.

The room was not large. A four-sided table inside served as the desk, and was placd next to the bed. Wang Li himself sat beside the bed, grinding ink.

After the ink was ground in the inkstone, Wang Li shivered, feeling hungry and cold. He smoothed out the paper on the table and pressed it down in a paperweight, picked up his brush, dipped it in the ink, and began to write, muttering incessantly all the while.

“On New Year’s Eve at Prince Jin’s Palace, Wang was invited to tell a story. It was a story about immortals, and a story about the Emperor’s family…”

Wang Li’s thoughts were extremely clear. He wrote very quickly, and his handwriting was relatively sloppy.

“The Emperor sat beside him and asked questions for a while. The gentleman was sweating profusely. He had no idea what to reply to the questions of ghosts and gods, so he racked his brains and did his best to answer… The hour of midnight was approaching. The servants in the palace announced the time of silence… Suddenly, there were exclamations of surprise from outside the hall. The sound of joyful voices was like the sound of springtime. The guests followed the Emperor outside, one after another. An auspicious open had appeared in the courtyard…”

As he finished writing these lines, the brush in Wang Li’s hand trembled slightly. He didn’t know whether it was due to the cold or the excitement. He dipped the brush back in the ink and resumed writing.

“In the garden, hundreds of trees had turned the green of spring, and flowers in the garden had bloomed red. The Emperor called out to the gods, but none responded, save a white mist…”

“Hooh…hiss…”

The storyteller set down his brush for a moment. He exhaled on his hands and rubbed them together, then simply pulled the quilt on his bed over his shoulders.

“Knock knock knock-“

“Mr. Wang, your food is ready. I brought it to you!”

“Oh, oh, oh! Good, good! I’m coming!”

Wang Li hurriedly stood up from the bed and went to the door to help the child who had come to deliver the food.

When he opened the door, a gust of cold air blew in, making Wang Li huddle down even more. A boy of about twelve or thirteen years of age stood outside, holding a tray topped with steaming rice porridge, side dishes, and steamed buns.

The boy didn’t let Wang Li carry the tray. Seeing that the gentleman was huddling in on himself, he was worried that the plates might break, so he took the initiative to enter the room and unload the items from the tray one by one.

Ji Yuan followed the boy into the room. Wang Li quickly closed the door. Although it inevitably became a little darker when the door was closed, the translucency of the oil paper on the doors and windows meant that the indoor lighting was not greatly affected.

“Mr. Wang, what are you writing? Are you writing a story?”

Wang Li returned to the bedside. He held up the bowl of safflower³ porridge with both hands to let them warm. Then, he picked up the chopsticks and began to stir the rice porridge the bowl. He blew on it and answered.

“Yes, I was invited by a wealthy family to tell a story last night. The high remuneration was of secondary importance only to the fact that I witnessed an auspicious event. It was definitely worth the trip… haah…haah…”

“Sluuurp… haah, haah… sluurp…”

He ate the hot rice porridge while exhaling warm air. His body warmed up after swallowing a few mouthfuls.

“Mr. Wang, your handwriting is not as good as those great masters on Wenqu Street.”

The boy looked curiously at the scribbled words on the paper. Meanwhile, Ji Yuan observed Wang Li’s character as he talked about what happened the night before. He seemed to have a clear and bright temperament and a modicum of talent, though indeed, his handwriting was really not that good.

“Haha, they are all orthodox scholars. How can I compare? Besides, I am used to writing faster. It’s fine as long as I can understand it myself.”

As Wang Li finished his sentence, he picked up a steamed bun, tore a piece off, and swiped it twice along the side of the porridge bowl, as if he were using the porridge as a dipping sauce. He put it in his mouth and ate with great relish.

“Mr. Wang, what rich family invited you last night? Tell me about the interesting things you found there!”

This gentleman had been renting a room here for over half a year, so the boy had long become familiar with him.

“I’m afraid you won’t believe me. I was invited to the prince’s palace yesterday. Do you know of the prince’s palace?”

“The prince’s palace? Where emperor’s son lives?”

“That’s right, where the emperor’s son lives!”

Wang Li picked up a piece of pickled vegetable and put it in his mouth. He then pointed repeatedly at the boy with his chopsticks to emphasize that he was right.

“I even saw the current emperor!”

The boy’s eyes widened immediately.

“What does the Emperor look like? Is he very tall and strong? Is he really as scary as a tiger?”

Wang Li was taken aback by this question. Ji Yuan smiled and glanced at the boy.

“Yes, he is very tall and strong. I didn’t even dare to breathe when I sat next to him. But the most interesting part came later. After midnight, the ice and snow in the palace garden melted, and flowers bloomed. Many people said that it was a good omen sent from heaven.”

The boy scratched his head. He couldn’t imagine the scene, but listening to the master’s words, it all seemed quite impressive.

As if realizing that the boy didn’t understand, Wang Li changed his words.

“It must have been a deity that cast a spell last night, causing all the flowers and trees in the palace garden to bloom. All the flowers that only bloom in the spring, summer, and autumn grew to full bloom in an instant. It was so beautiful!”

“Wow!”

Now the boy understood. But after a single exclamation, he began to feel a bit of disbelief.

“Is this true? Mr. Wang, you aren’t lying to me, are you? My father said that you are a storyteller, and storytellers are the best at embellishing stories…”

Wang Li was sullen.

“Your father… haah… Xiao Dong, storytellers’ tales are not groundless. Most have been adapted from an original. Some things have been exaggerated, but most are actually true. For example, what I just told you hasn’t been made into a story yet, so it’s still all from my personal experience, and all true!”

“Oh! By the way, I’m going to go bring some hot water for Sir to soak his feet!”

The boy scratched his head, remembering he still had something to deliver. He hurriedly opened the door and went out. Ji Yuan followed him out, leaving Wang Li alone in the room to eat and ponder the details of his story.

Before leaving, Ji Yuan took one last look at the storyteller, then at his paper. This person would be more suitable than Master Yin for what he needed.

A moment later, when Wang Li was halfway through his porridge, he glanced at the paper on the table, and was suddenly stunned.

“Clatter…”

The chopsticks slipped to the ground.

Wang Li put down the bowl of porridge bowl and carefully approached the paper, only to see three unfamiliar characters appearing on it.

He looked around nervously, but found that there was no one else in the room aside from himself.

The handwriting was full of power and vitality, obviously the work of a master of calligraphy. However, the crucial part was not how good the handwriting was, but the fact that these characters had appeared out of thin air.

“The White Deer’s Fate?”

Wang Li subconsciously touched the paper, his fingers trembling slightly. The moment his fingertips touched the paper, his mind grew dizzy, and he fell asleep on the bed in a daze.

Through the technique of using objects to convey spiritual information, but in a way that mortals could bear, Wang Li was having a peculiar dream…

There was another knock on the door. The little boy waited for a while, but heard no response from Wang Li, so he pushed open the door open and entered with the basin of hot water, only to find that Wang Li had fallen asleep.

“This gentleman… he hasn’t even finished his porridge yet, but he’s already falling asleep!”

After muttering a few words, the boy approached quietly. He picked up the chopsticks, wiped them on his clothes, and put them back on the table. Then he helped Wang Li take off his shoes, covered him a little tighter with the quilt, before tiptoeing out with the basin of hot water, and carefully closing the door behind him.

1. Menshen are divine guardians of doors and gates. They have various specializations and divisions; I highly recommend reading about it, it’s fascinating. Supposedly these came about in the Tang Dynasty — this story takes a LOT of influence from the Ming Dynasty (from names, to clothing styles, to lore, etc.), so it would make sense that Tang Dynasty folklore/belief systems are not included, as the Tang Dynasty was after the Ming Dynasty.
2. As opposed to the Menshen, which are a collection of various individuals, the Stove God is one being (with many many names & origin stories). It is believed that just before Chinese New Year, the kitchen deity reports the activities of the household to the Jade Emperor in heaven, bringing either blessings or punishments down upon the family.
3. Safflower is one of the world’s oldest crops, traditionally used for its seeds, medicinal properties, and red & yellow dyes. Nowadays it is most often used for vegetable oil.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by Aunomay Read