Day and night tour

Chapter 380 The Daoist Descends to Earth

As soon as Zhou Xuan started writing, he made Mu Hua the protagonist of the story, which sparked a lot of discussion.

The most common source of discussion is the survivors of East Market Street.

Everyone on Dongshi Street knows Muhua.

Before Zhou Xuan went to East Market Street, everyone on that street would bully Hua Zi, who was like a fool.

However, the calamity of the Zoroastrian fire was caused by Mu Hua's older sister, Cui Jie, who transformed into a fox and led the people of Dongshi Street to escape.

After surviving the ordeal, the survivors of Dongshi Street felt ashamed whenever they thought about how they had bullied Mu Hua.

Now, Mu Hua has become the protagonist in Zhou Xuan's book. With a resounding name, he is heard by every survivor in Mingjiang Prefecture. These old Dongshi Street people all feel from the bottom of their hearts that Mu Hua deserves this honor.

“Let me tell you, Mu Hua, he’s a good young man from our street.”

"Good lad? You used to bully Mu Hua quite a bit, didn't you?"

"Oh dear, I was ignorant before. Now, if I see Mu Hua, I'll kowtow to him three times. I keep my word."

"You're just spouting nonsense. If kowtowing could bring Mu Hua back to life, I'd kowtow to him immediately, not just three times, but thirty or three hundred."

"Mu Hua is from your East Market Street, huh? Master, you truly keep your word. You said you would tell the story of all the remarkable figures in our Mingjiang Prefecture in one story, and you really did."

The people of Dongshi Street, speaking from their own experiences, further confirmed that Zhou Xuan's "Mingjiang Zoroastrian Records" was indeed adapted and created based on the people of Mingjiang Prefecture.

When everyone listened to the book again, they felt that the book brought them closer to their hearts.

This is like in a previous life—a local TV station. It had no money and no celebrities, but it still had a lot of viewers who would watch it. The reason was simple: the familiar accents evoked a strong sense of familiarity.

Aside from the people of Dongshi Street, the most shaken among those listening to the story were the fox clan, especially King Xishan.

Unlike the painter's "burnt face," and unlike the musician who mobilizes the spirit medium to constantly monitor the audience for any potential rat-like beings, this is different from the storyteller's work.

King Xishan had a smug look on his face. In his practice of incense and deity, his yin and yang were out of balance, with yin energy being heavy and yang energy being weak. Therefore, he often had to sit by the fire to borrow the yang energy of the fire in order to replenish his yang energy.

Qi is the commander of blood, and yang is the mother of blood. Insufficient yang qi causes the King of Xishan to have a deathly pale face most of the time, devoid of any color.

But tonight, he was so excited and in such a good mood that his face even had a bit of color on it.

The reason for this is simple.

Rather, Zhou Xuan mentioned him twice in a row when he was giving a general account of the book Liang before he began his lecture.

The first time was to praise the King of Himalayas for his heroic performance in the Zoroastrian War.

The second time was when Zhou Xuan mentioned Mu Hua's name, he specifically said that this young man came from the Dongshan Fox Clan, his surname was Hu, and his given name was Mu Hua.

The former praises Xishan King, while the latter specifically gives pointers to the fox clan. With these two pointers, how could Xishan King not be pleased?

However, although King Xishan's excitement was palpable, his attendant, Fox Servant, was somewhat puzzled.

Fox Slave asked, "Your Majesty, although the Master mentioned our Hu Clan a few times in his book, it was just a play. Why are you so agitated?"

"Theatrical performance? You underestimate the storyteller's profession."

King Xishan was afraid that Hu Nu'er would talk nonsense, and with so many people around, if she said something unpleasant and it reached the ears of the Master, wouldn't that ruin his reputation?
He immediately became serious and said to Fox Slave in a cold and low voice, "The storyteller's troupe holds an extremely high position in the Well Kingdom. Why? Because they are preachers of the supreme will, and it is not an exaggeration for them to say something that reaches the ears of the heavens."

"Within this establishment, storytellers are also ranked. The higher the rank of the storyteller, the more important the stories they tell in public."
If a storyteller can ascend to the heavens, all the stories he has told in his lifetime will be collected by the storytelling hall and passed down through generations.

"Who is this great master? Compared to those storytellers who ascend to the heavens, he is no less than him. The stories he has told in his lifetime will sooner or later be collected by the temple and passed down for generations."

At this point, the King of Xishan became slightly excited again, saying, "A name that will last for a hundred generations, what an impressive thing that is!"
The Kingdom of Jing has a history spanning two thousand years, with countless volumes of historical records. Yet, even a few strokes of ink on such a long scroll represent a remarkable honor… With the Great Master, the Fox Clan and I, the King of Xishan, can both add a chapter to the annals of history. Even after hundreds or thousands of years, someone will remember me, and remember the Fox Clan.”

To accomplish the affairs of the emperor and the world, and to gain fame both before and after death.

A good reputation in life is easy to win, but a good reputation after death is much harder to win, and yet this reputation is what every ambitious person values ​​most.

Upon hearing that Zhou Xuan's book could be passed down through the ages, Fox Slave immediately came up with an idea, saying, "Your Majesty, why don't we offer tribute to the great master again, donate some treasures, and ask him to say a few more good words for us in the book?"

“Shut up. A storyteller of a certain level is the embodiment of his will. How can you offer tributes and donations? That’s outrageous… Storytelling is of paramount importance to him. Every word and action on stage comes from the most moving parts of his life. If we were to do something underhanded, we would be the ones harming the master.”

After scolding the fox servant, King Xishan picked up his tea and began to savor Zhou Xuan's book.

This book was written by Zhou Xuan. Compared with those great storytellers, he lacked skill, but because he personally experienced the fire disaster, his speeches were meticulous and full of emotion.

There’s no technique, it’s all emotion.

"When it comes to storytelling, too many techniques can get tiresome; perhaps the key is to use simple and profound emotions."

King Xishan gently shook his leg, his hands on his knees, patting them lightly in sync with Zhou Xuan's rhythmic delivery of lines.

Good books are like songs, with natural rhythms...

……

Zhou Family Troupe, Zu Shuxia

Cui Jie was already crying her eyes out. She never dared to hope that Hua Zi's name could be used as the protagonist of a book by Zhou Xuan.

Having listened to the story, besides feeling an overwhelming longing for his brother, he felt even more gratitude towards Zhou Xuan.

“Brother Zhou is a good person, too good a person. Hua Zi’s death was not in vain. A few days before the accident, I asked Hua Zi, “Why do you like to tell stories?”

"Hua Zi told me that he wanted to become a storyteller like Brother Zhou, whose stories would be met with thunderous applause. Today, although it wasn't Hua Zi telling the story, he became the main character, which was no different from Hua Zi telling the story himself."

Zhou Lingyi comforted Sister Cui, saying, "Then you should listen carefully. With my witch's perception, I feel as if I can sense Hua Zi's presence and a wisp of his remnant soul in the book I'm listening to."

"Sister Zhou, is it really true?"

“Not only is it true, but that wisp of soul is also showing signs of growing stronger,” Zhou Lingyi said.

"Then I'll have to listen carefully."

Cui Jie wiped away her tears and immersed herself in listening to the story. With each word Zhou Xuan spoke, she seemed to see Hua Zi gently waving to her.

After Sister Cui listened intently, Yuan Buyu quietly gave Zhou Lingyi a thumbs up and whispered, "Master Zhou, you're really good at comforting people."

"comfort?"

“Weren’t you just saying nice things to comfort Sister Cui?” Yuan Buyu said.

"Mr. Yuan has misunderstood. I truly felt the remnant soul of Mu Hua in the book."

"..." Yuan remained silent.

……

Zhou Xuan's lectures are still ongoing.

If this book, "Mingjiang Zoroastrian Records," is told from Zhou Xuan's own perspective, then the book would feature more of the day and night wandering gods fighting against the Buddhist Kingdom, Zhexing, and the great demon of Huangyuan.

From Mu Hua's perspective, the focus is now more on the disaster, the plight of ordinary people, and the glimmer of humanity during the fire.

Zhou Xuan began his story by recounting the day the calamity of the Zoroastrian fire struck.

The gist of the story is how the raging fire destroyed East Market Street, and how the people of East Market Street united as one to escape.

Among them is the deep sibling bond between Sister Cui and Mu Hua, who escaped together.

There's also Yun Ziliang, who, amidst the fire, did everything in his power to save his former mahjong partners.

Even worse, some people had their legs trapped under collapsed wooden beams, but instead of asking for help, they pleaded with others to go into their houses and rescue their elderly mothers…

Zhou Xuan spoke of these matters in the calmest tone possible, his voice even sounding somewhat soft, yet it moved the audience below to tears.

Dongshi Street was just a microcosm of the fire disaster; everyone felt the pain of what happened.

Aren't they just like the people of Dongshi Street, who, in the midst of disaster, displayed the most brilliant side of humanity for their relatives and close friends?
"The people of Dongshi Street are all great."

“We were great too. When the fire came, I rushed into the inferno and rescued my daughter. I even lost a leg in the process.”

"We are all great."

The common people whispered among themselves, all agreeing that Zhou Xuan's book was truly excellent.

The Kingdom of Jing has a history of two thousand years, and its books are widely circulated, as numerous as the sands of the Ganges. Talented scholars and beautiful women, wise rulers and virtuous ministers, and herb-gathering immortals—these figures are like stars hanging in the distant sky, making those who have heard the stories daydream and wonder if they could shine as brightly as those people.

But after indulging in fantasies, a feeling of emptiness follows.

All those who love listening to stories are thinking – among the great books of this Jing Kingdom, is there a book that tells about the lives of ordinary people like us?
Ordinary people may seem insignificant, but they often do extraordinary things. Don't they deserve to be featured in a book?

With the publication of this book, "Mingjiang Zoroastrian Fire Records," the people's hopes and wishes were fulfilled at that moment.

They, or rather ordinary people like them, are indeed featured prominently in this great book.

They wished they had some kind of device to record Zhou Xuan's book so they could listen to it whenever they had free time.

Hearing this brings to mind the sadness, bravery, and longing for family during the Zoroastrian fire.

The book, used to convey emotions, immediately captivated everyone's hearts.

Countless wishes coalesced above the heads of the audience, forming a majestic mountain.

The mountain's momentum continues to rise, growing ever more majestic and imposing, rising abruptly from the ground and stretching towards the city in the clouds.

"My willpower has finally increased; I need to work harder."

Zhou Xuan gripped the folding fan tightly in his hand, looking up at the Mountain of Wish Power, which was getting closer and closer to the Cloud City... closer and closer...

……

boom!
With a slap filled with rage, Bi Fang easily snapped the pillar of the "Bi Shutang" thatched hut in half.

The thatched hut collapsed, but fortunately, this was Bifang's divine kingdom, full of divine power. In just a few moments, it automatically repaired itself, and the thatched hut returned to its simple and tranquil state.

The white-robed Taoist asked Bi Fang, "Sir, is Zhou Xuan up to his old tricks again?" "Hmph! He's a storyteller who has mastered nine levels of skills. His level is worlds apart from those street performers."

Storytellers of this caliber usually have their stories collected by the troupe; unless the characters are exceptionally illustrious, there's no need to include them in the book. But he, of all people, tells stories about a group of lowly commoners.

Bi Fang stood up, spread his hands towards the white-robed Taoist, and said, "In a few decades, or even a hundred years, when storytellers of later generations take out this book that Zhou Xuan told, they will find only those nameless, insignificant figures, some of whom haven't even performed any religious rituals."
"Wouldn't future generations laugh their heads off when they see a book like this?"

"Yet this book is coveted by those lowly people, and has even condensed into an immense will, as tall as a mountain, heading towards the Cloud City."

Bi Fang said, "If we truly have enough willpower to enter Yunzhong Prefecture, I'm afraid... Mingjiang Prefecture will really have to be rebuilt."

"With the reconstruction of the massive city completed, Zhou Xuan's reputation among mortals will flourish. Even if only one of the Heavenly Book holders survives, it will still be a huge problem."

"The people of the world only know Zhou Xuan, but not me, Bi Fang. How can I spread my teachings?"

Bi Fang is now filled with extreme hatred, coupled with jealousy that burns even brighter than a furnace fire.
Hatred and jealousy intertwined, solidifying into one thought—to eliminate Zhou Xuan immediately.

However, despite his thoughts, Bi Fang knew it was unlikely that he would actually kill Zhou Xuan tonight.

All the spirits of the Mingjiang Prefecture were gathered in one place. Although Bi Fang was a figure above the nine incense sticks in rank, even a fierce tiger fears a pack of wolves.
He still vividly remembers how Zhe Xing, Zhao Qingxiao, and Gong Zheng died.

"Jia Dao, I'll take you to Mingjiang."

Bi Fang decided to expedite the process of bringing Jia Dao to the human world.

He turned around, walked behind the lecture platform, slammed the gavel heavily on the table, and said loudly, "One book can spread the truth and enlighten all beings. With the supreme will by your side, be careful in your words and deeds."

I am the preacher, and you are all listeners. When I preach, you must not whisper, smile, or make any disrespectful gestures.

He pointed to the empty "audience seats" and explained his rules.

Bi Fang's storytelling is always like this.
In his eyes, reciting books is preaching, and the audience below the stage is the listener.

Since it is about listening to the sermon, it is an extremely serious matter, and those who listen to the sermon must also maintain a serious demeanor.

If anyone is not serious, he will at least expel them from the meeting, or at worst, execute them in the name of his supreme will.

"My books are never jokes; they are books formed from the essence of heaven and earth, books that reveal the mysteries of the universe... No unauthorized persons are allowed to enter and listen."

Bi Fang struck the table again with his gavel, and the story he was about to tell began. At the same time, a strange resonance occurred between the story told by Zhou Xuan of Mingjiang Prefecture.

This is the god-like privilege of storytellers—the books of the human world, and the books they tell, can be controlled by them and resonate with them.

Once the resonance begins, he and his Daoist can descend into the books of the human world.

It descends to earth not by divine threads, but solely through the resonance of two books.

As Bi Fang continued his lecture, the figure of the white-robed Taoist began to dim—until he disappeared.

……

Inside the Huifeng Medical College in Mingjiang Prefecture, Zhou Xuan was still diligently lecturing when suddenly he spotted a familiar figure in the audience not far away.

It was his sister, Zhou Lingyi.

"Gentlemen, this book needs to be explained sentence by sentence. My throat is dry from talking, so I need to go and moisten it first."

Coincidentally, this was the "breathing point" that Zhou Xuan had planned in advance. He stopped lecturing, took a breath, and cleared his throat.

No one was angry. They had thoroughly enjoyed the lecture, and many were deeply moved. When the lecture ended, some chatted with others about the tragedies that had befallen their families, while others quietly reflected on it...

Zhou Xuan stepped off the stage, walked to Zhou Lingyi's side, and asked, "Sister, what brings you here?"

"Old Yuan sensed it; Bifang seems to have descended upon the book you were talking about."

"Oh, so that's what it is."

Zhou Xuan said with a smile.

"you know?"

"Of course I know, but the one who descended was not Bifang."

Zhou Xuan said.

The stories told by storytellers are like a daydream woven from language.

The aura of the Dream God is linked by three factions: the Storyteller, the Tattoo Artist, and Mr. Night.

When it arrives in the storyteller's book, it is like an absurd dream descending upon us—Zhou Xuan is the dream weaver, and how could he not know when there is movement in the dream?

"Not Bifang?" Zhou Lingyi asked.

"He is a Taoist, but in my dream of books, I cannot sense his incense offerings."

Zhou Xuan said.

The Daoist is one who has neither incense nor fire.

"Find him and kill him?"

Zhou Lingyi made a throat-slitting motion.

When a Taoist descends to the mortal realm, there is no incense or fire, but if left unattended, he can rapidly elevate his level of incense offerings in a very short time.

The superior scholar ascended to immortality in seven days.

"Don't worry, just play with him."

"You... have a ulterior motive?" Zhou Lingyi sensed the hidden meaning in his words.

"I have a brilliant plan."

Zhou Xuan found a musician nearby, asked for a cup of fresh tea, handed it to Zhou Lingyi, and whispered, "Sister, to tell you the truth, I found an actor to play the role of Bifang's Taoist, to lure the evil rats of the abyss out to join forces."

"Now that the true Daoist has descended, it's even better. I can have my actor play the evil rat again to deceive the Daoist and entice Bifang to join forces."

When Zhou Xuan revealed his plan, Zhou Lingyi's eyes lit up, and she exclaimed in surprise, "A double swindle?"

“Of course… The evil rat is hiding, and the Bifang is hiding too. I’ll set up a trap to make them both come out on their own.”

Zhou Xuan said with a smile, "We can only play dirty tricks on these two scoundrels. If I kill the Daoist, I'll alert them, and Bifang won't descend to the mortal realm. We have to guide them patiently."

Zhou Lingyi found this elaborate scheme extremely fascinating. She covered her mouth and nose with her fan and chuckled as she said, "Bifang thought he had joined forces with the evil rat, and the evil rat thought he had joined forces with Bifang. But when the day comes that the stalemate is broken, neither of them will ever imagine that their people have never actually met."

"Just wait and see, it'll be good."

After Zhou Xuan finished speaking, he said to Zhou Lingyi, "Sister, I'll continue my storytelling now. I'm fine. You can go back to Mingjiang now."

"Then I can't go back."

"Is there something else important?" Zhou Xuan asked.

“It’s a huge deal.” Zhou Lingyi sat casually on a stool, holding a cup of tea, and said with a bright smile, “I’ve finally come to Mingjiang Prefecture, so of course I have to see you tell stories with my own eyes… Your storytelling is a huge deal for me.”

"Okay, okay, you can listen, you can listen."

Zhou Xuanxing went on stage in high spirits. With his family and friends in the audience, he felt even more confident.

……

Zhou Xuan's speech continued, but deep within the audience, a person dressed in white appeared.

He was the first Daoist under Bifang, known as "Jia Dao".

The "superior scholar" in the story of "superior scholar ascending to immortality in seven days" refers to a Daoist with unparalleled talent like Jia Dao.

He lurked in the audience, waiting for the storytelling to end so he could leave with them and investigate whether Zhou Xuan's defenses had any weaknesses.

Otherwise, why would eight out of the nine golden tokens in the divine kingdom ring, indicating that the time to kill Zhou Xuan had arrived?

While Zhou Xuan was lecturing on the stage, a consciousness invisible to ordinary people emerged from his secret realm—an engineer.

Engineers are "adult consciousness entities" within the Flesh and Blood Divine Dynasty, possessing extremely powerful mind control.

In addition to Miss Wall's ability to manipulate flesh and blood, she also possesses unparalleled "stalking" skills.

“Ah Xuan, that Taoist priest, if I follow him, he won’t be able to escape.”

The engineer solemnly pledged to Zhou Xuan.

The white-robed Taoist, known as "Taoist Jia," was being followed, but Zhou Xuan naturally ignored him.

Moreover, he didn't have time to care.

Zhou Xuan discovered that another mistake had occurred during his lecture that evening.

The first time I gave a book talk, I chose the wrong book, and there was almost no response from the audience, so I couldn't gather any enthusiasm.

The book I chose for the second book talk was definitely the right one, and the power of my aspirations was as vast as mountains and as deep as the sea, reaching straight towards the Cloud City.

But this time, a strange thing happened—the dense power of the will was only three zhang away from Yunzhong City.

However, with Zhou Xuan's diligent teaching, the power of the vow did indeed become more concentrated, but it just stopped growing taller and stopped growing into the city.

The distance between Yuanli and Yunzhong City remains at three zhang, and it will not change no matter what.

"Why can't we climb the last three zhang?" Zhou Xuan was very suspicious.

The city of Yunzhong is the blueprint, and the wishes of all living beings are the bricks and tiles. Only when the wishes of all living beings enter the city can the reconstruction of Mingjiang Prefecture proceed in an orderly manner.

The three-zhang distance separating the two sides suddenly became an insurmountable wall of sighs, hindering the reconstruction of Mingjiang Prefecture...

(End of this chapter)