The bard fantasized again.

Chapter 4 records the story and earns rewards.

It is the only place in Xingmei Town that can be called a 'commercial facility'.

In addition to selling its family's heirloom plum wine, Golden Oak also serves as a place to welcome outsiders.

The first floor is the tavern lobby, while several rooms on the second floor have been converted into a hotel.

Normally, no one visits this remote town, so Tang Qi has become the only resident here.

Normally, a single room costs 5 copper coins per night, but in hopes of boosting sales from tonight's performance, the usually stingy Catherine generously paid for his lodging that night.

She was a shrewd person and seemed to realize that Tang Qi could generate more profits than that.

If it weren't for igniting the alcoholics' interest and keeping her busy late into the night, the two of them might have been able to discuss future collaborative projects.

However, Tang Qi also needs a quiet environment to rest, so it's fine to leave the negotiations for tomorrow.

After staying indoors for a while, my clothes dried out, so I casually tossed my leather jacket onto the wooden bed made of haystacks.

He lit the candle on the table, and finally had time to enjoy his meal.

The stewed beans had cooled down, and the rye bread was dry, choking, and even had a slightly bitter taste.

But the sweetness of the plum wine makes up for this.

Compared to the heavy, bitter taste of dark beer, plum wine is much smoother, like a gentle stream flowing down the throat.

The remaining wine clings to the tip of the tongue, causing a continuous, slight stinging sensation, as if the spirits of the wine are dancing on the tongue.

Tang Qi prefers to call it sparkling juice, but it does indeed have the effects of alcohol.

It was icy cold when it entered my mouth, but my body gradually warmed up.

With his mind wandering, Tang Qi had the leisure to ponder his next steps—

Since we've come to this unfamiliar world, we must adapt and integrate.

He was already very curious about the fantasy world, so he had nothing to complain about.

"So the primary goal now is stability, and the second is making money?"

Otherwise, there's no way to get passing caravans to take me away from here.

Some details about the experience in the Dusk Forest have been missing.

He only remembered that he had fainted from hunger, but he didn't remember who dragged him to the town.

Even so, he had heard some things about the dangers of this forest.

He dared not gamble that Lady Luck would smile upon him a second time.

"And after leaving here, are you going back to the Poets' Academy?"

Although the mentor did not explicitly say that Tang Qi should leave, the implication was that he was not suitable to be a bard.

But he was different from his predecessor. Tang Qi believed he was more tactful and might be able to go back and find a good job.

"But being a court jester is nothing more than flattering the nobility, and being a spy is too stressful and restrictive... What other options do you have?"

Having arrived in a fantasy world, and having solved his basic needs for food and shelter, he naturally wanted to experience everything about this world—including adventure.

Having been given a second chance at life, Tang Qi is not afraid of death.

He was more afraid that he wouldn't live a fulfilling life.

To his recollection, no one had ever published a "Guide to Identifying Different Races" before, and if he could, he wouldn't mind being a pioneer.

"Those are adventurers?"

The term 'adventurer' is not actually a profession, but rather a general term that encompasses a group of people who, by chance, actively seek to explore the world.

However, his martial arts skills were only so-so; he had received some training and was slightly better than ordinary people.

If you run into a goblin and manage to fight it off, that would be quite an achievement; I would never dare say that it's a skill you can use to protect yourself.

Even if we fill our stomachs today, we'd still be beaten to the ground if we fought that jackal head-on.

"And no team will recruit a bard."

An adventure team is a group of people who risk their lives. What's the point of letting a poet who can't use magic join the team?
Can he cower in a corner and sing battle songs to cheer others on when he's fighting?
Or will someone sing a dirge and collect their bodies after they die in battle?
As for magic...

Even the only academy for poets failed to decipher the magic of music.

There are, of course, various reasons for this.

For example, the interruption of tradition, the limitations of talent, the decline of poet academies, the intentions behind aristocratic patronage, and so on...

But if you can't learn it, you can't learn it, and Tang Qi was no exception.

Tang Qi finished all the food on the tray, only to find himself utterly unworthy of praise. He sighed to the heavens, "So, am I destined to be a singer-songwriter for the rest of my life?"

From this perspective, returning to the Poetry Academy to ask a mentor for a job arrangement seems to be the most suitable option...

With his talent for making pre-made meals and by borrowing from popular music to please the masses, it seems that following the path of plagiarism can be a smooth and successful career.

Having no other choice, Tang Qi could only rummage through his soaked bag for paper and pen, trying to list out his subsequent plans one by one.

But as soon as his hands reached into the damp cloth bag, he felt the touch of leather on his fingertips.

Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a thick notebook.

The book cover, made of wisteria-colored leather, is gilded with patterns that intertwine to form a large musical note, printed in the center of the cover. Reflected in candlelight, it shimmers subtly, its sheen alone suggesting a high price tag.

Tang Qi didn't remember having such a book in his package.

He simply can't afford it.

Driven by curiosity, he opened the cover to find out more.

The pages were as thick as parchment and slightly yellowed.

What came into view was only a sentence composed of common language—

Record your stories and earn rewards; gain fame and even more rewards.

"Is this my golden finger?"

Realizing that this was a book he had never seen before, Tang Qi deduced as he turned to the next page.

Besides a plain white quill pen tucked between the pages of the book, there was only one message—

Don Qi Weinberger

Awareness: Obscure
Followers: 1
Skills: None

Item: [Snobbish Pen]

Tang Qi narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze sweeping superficially over his dismal reputation.

While wondering where '1' came from, I took a closer look at the [Items] section, and there was a strange item listed there—

[Historical Slave's Notes]

Level: Non-common

Description: This quill pen seems to have an inexhaustible supply of ink.
Note: When a slave possesses inexhaustible labor power, he will become the first slave in history—the ruler of the Golden Kingdom, the "greatest pioneer" Sultan Ayder.

Tang Qi picked up the quill pen, held it in his palm, and examined it carefully. It looked completely ordinary.
"Does that mean I should keep writing and not take pity on you?"

He immediately turned to the third page and found that apart from the line breaks, the page was completely blank.

Staring intently at the blank space, Tang Qi suddenly felt a strange urge to express himself, making him want to pick up a quill pen and write something.

"The book says that you will receive a reward for recording your story."

But they didn't tell me what story to record, or whether it had to be real or fictional.

It didn't mention the reward either, whether it was material or abstract...

Tang Qi scratched his curly hair, somewhat at a loss.
"Since it's a 'record' rather than a compilation, wouldn't it be better to write about your own experiences? Like keeping a diary?"

The book's origin is unknown, yet it clearly records the author's physical condition and all his belongings.

With a "nothing to lose" attitude, Tang Qi decided to write down what had happened since his transmigration.

Although brief, could it be considered a short play where a bard proves himself?
Thinking about the need to increase brand awareness in the future, there might be a possibility of publication.

So he simply wrote down the first entry in the form of a diary, using common language and based on his memory—

[June 7, 1000 of the Lost Calendar, Xingmei Town, torrential rain.]

A year into my travels, I was kicked out of a pub...

Having some ability to write lyrics, Tang Qi's writing skills are naturally quite good.

He couldn't really write it like a diary, recording everything he did in detail.

Ultimately, it should be considered an autobiographical novel.

Today's experience wasn't particularly exciting, but it had its beginnings, developments, climaxes, and resolutions, and it was easy for him to recount it in a straightforward manner.

The torrential rain outside was so fierce that it was hard to stay calm.

As Tang Qi, who was writing the ending in fits and starts, clutching his thick curly hair, suddenly heard a knock on the door.

(End of this chapter)