The Republic of China: From Storyteller to God

In Baozhilin.

When Chen Xiangwan received the seal from Liu Che, her hands trembled slightly.

He has been tormented by this debt for the past year.

Fortunately, the problem has finally been solved.

"Brother Luo."

He solemnly assured Liu Che, "This money is what I owe you. Please give me two years, and I will definitely pay you back."

After Liu Che returned, he reintroduced his name to him.

"Mr. Chen, you're too kind. My real name is Liu Che, and I used the alias Luo Yonghao to mislead the Shahe Gang."

Being inside Baozhilin made it much easier for Liu Che to speak.

Wong Fei-hung suddenly realized: "So that's how it is! No wonder Mr. Chen always called you Brother Lo!"

"Brother Liu is indeed meticulous."

Chen Xiangwan clasped his hands in a gesture of flattery.

"You can call me whatever you want; it's just a name."

Liu Che smiled, then said seriously, "Actually, I have my own selfish reasons for making this friend. I would like to ask Mr. Chen for a favor."

Upon hearing this, Chen Xiangwan's expression turned solemn: "Speak freely. As long as I, Chen, can do it, I will do it even at the cost of my life!"

"There's no need to exaggerate like that."

Liu Che paused slightly before lowering his voice to state his intention: "I'd like to see Mr. Chen's 'Fate Storybook'."

Upon hearing this, Chen Xiangwan was stunned, and her expression immediately became conflicted.

Huang Feihong knew what "Benming Huaben" was, and was somewhat surprised to hear this.

Liu Che's request was tantamount to asking the magician to reveal his secrets and the martial artist to demonstrate their unique skills, which naturally put Chen Xiangwan in a difficult position.

However, after struggling for a moment, Chen Xiangwan breathed a sigh of relief, cupped his hands and said, "On the day I graduated from my apprenticeship, I swore to my master that I would never expose the sect's [Life-bound Storybook]."

But if it weren't for Brother Liu, I'm afraid I would be dead by now.

This kindness is never too much to ask.

I would like to borrow Brother Liu's gaze for a look!

Aunt Thirteen, listening from the side, was puzzled and couldn't help but ask, "What is a 'Benming Storybook'?"

Chen Xiangwan gave a wry smile before explaining, "It's like this: we storytellers make a living by telling historical stories and anecdotes."

Everyone has a mouth and can tell stories, so why can we storytellers make money from it?

It relies on its unique [favorite storybook].

Aunt Thirteen was even more puzzled: "Isn't a storybook just a novel? They're sold in bookstores, aren't they?"

"That's different."

Chen Xiangwan explained, "This text is not a book bound from paper; others cannot see or touch it. It was compiled from here."

As he spoke, he pointed to his head.

"what?"

Aunt Thirteen covered her mouth in astonishment: "You can conjure up storybooks in your head?"

Speaking of her profession, Chen Xiangwan became much more confident, and a smile appeared on her face: "Storytellers can't compare to opera troupes. They have all sorts of roles, from male and female to painted-face, from famous actors to servants, and they play instruments and sing. It's a lively scene."

Storytellers recount tales using only one person and one mouth.

But with just their voice, storytellers can captivate audiences, drawing them into the story as if they were witnessing it firsthand, leaving them completely engrossed.

"Saw it with your own eyes?"

Aunt Thirteen had never heard of storytelling before and had no concept of what he was saying: "Is it really that magical?"

Seeing that she didn't believe her, Chen Xiangwan calmed herself down and checked her strength.

After Huang Feihong took him back to Po Chi Lam, he asked Toothpick Su to brew him a cup of ginseng tea to replenish his qi and blood.

After resting for a while, he regained much of his strength.

So he took a deep breath, focused his energy, and said in a deep voice: "As we talked about last time, Zhao Zilong charged in and out of a million-strong army seven times to save the little A Dou, his battle robe stained with blood. He was fearless!"

But before Changban Slope, there was another lord. The moment this lord appeared, Cao Cao's soldiers and horses had to retreat three steps!

Who is being referred to? It is none other than Zhang Yide, the Yan man who stood guard at the Dangyang Bridge, spear in hand!

His way of speaking this time was completely different from when he spoke in the teahouse.

His voice was full of energy, and Aunt Thirteen, who was standing close by, felt her vision blur from the shock.

"But then, amidst the swirling dust at the bridgehead, a black horse burst forth from the smoke! This horse, entirely black without a single stray hair, moved with lightning speed, its name being the 'Ten Thousand Miles of Smoke and Clouds Beast'!"

As he described it, Aunt Thirteen's vision became increasingly blurry.

But in a daze, she seemed to actually see a magnificent black horse, about ten feet tall, galloping towards her with its four hooves spread wide amidst a cloud of dust and smoke.

"And look at the man on horseback!"

Chen Xiangwan's voice suddenly rose: "He had a leopard's head and round eyes, a face like polished iron, black with a hint of luster, and luster with a hint of black!"

Hai Xia has a steel beard, as sharp as steel needles and as fine as iron wire!

Wearing a helmet made of wrought iron, with two dragons fighting over a treasure, and a red tassel fluttering, it is adorned with an eight-treasure cloud canopy, a flower crown, and cloud wings!

He wore a chainmail armor with large, black leaves, over which was a black silk robe!

A sword hangs from his side, and he wears tiger-head battle boots!

Ascending a magnificent beast that soars through the clouds, wielding a ten-foot-long spear!

Chen Xiangwan recited this string of rapid-fire words very quickly, but each word was clear.

As he spoke, the scene that Aunt Thirteen had vaguely seen became clearer and clearer.

It was a magnificent black horse, as black as a dragon, with a black-faced general with a steel beard, standing eight feet tall, riding on it, exuding murderous intent, as he charged onto a wooden bridge.

He held the saddle with one hand, pulled the reins, and the black horse raised its front hooves and neighed.

He bristled with tiger whiskers, opened his wide-eyed stare, and roared fiercely!

"I am Zhang Yide of Yan! Who dares to fight me to the death!"

"what!"

This sharp shout was like a thunderclap in a clear sky, startling Aunt Thirteen so much that she couldn't help but scream.

The stern shouts still echoed in her ears, but the illusions in her mind gradually dissipated like ripples on a lake.

When she came to her senses, she realized that Chen Xiangwan had stopped talking and was drinking ginseng tea in large gulps, her face pale.

Huang Feihong slightly closed his eyes, his breathing was long and deep, and there was a wisp of white breath between his mouth and nose, which he inhaled and exhaled with each breath.

A moment later, he opened his eyes and slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.

The foul air shot straight out for more than a foot before slowly dissipating.

After regulating his breathing, he couldn't help but exclaim, "General Zhang is truly a divine being! I wish I had been born two thousand years earlier so I could have shared a drink and a chat with him."

"You saw Zhang Fei too?"

Aunt Thirteen hurriedly asked, "I just saw Zhang Fei too! He looked over two meters tall, like a giant! It was terrifying!"

Wong Fei-hung explained with a smile: "This is Mr. Chen using his storytelling skills to fascinate you and draw you into the story. That's what we call captivating."

However, everyone sees different illusions; what you see is General Zhang's divine image.

I just felt as if I had become General Zhang, experiencing firsthand his unwavering footwork on horseback – it was truly exquisite.

At this point, he couldn't help but praise Chen Xiangwan: "I had long heard that skilled storytellers could make listeners feel the heroic spirit in the story and improve their skills. I never thought it was true."

Chen Xiangwan didn't have time to speak. After finishing the ginseng tea, he scooped out the ginseng whiskers from the teacup, chewed them, and swallowed them. Only then did his complexion regain some rosiness.

This morning, he had already finished telling stories for the entire session, exhausting all his energy, which is why he was humiliated by Zhao Tianhu and his group.

After resting for half a day at Po Chi Lam and drinking a cup of Huang Feihong's secret ginseng tea, he recovered some of his energy.

Huang Feihong also helped him a lot in today's matter.

Having no other way to repay his kindness, he could only perform a story to repay Huang Feihong's favor.

"This is called 'mutual understanding,' a skill I've only just begun to grasp."

He sighed with emotion, "Today's events have been a blessing in disguise; I've touched the threshold of the seventh rank. I have to thank Brother Liu for that cheer!"

As he spoke, he looked at Liu Che, only to find that Liu Che's eyes were slightly closed, still lost in thought.