Greed

"Good!"

"Splendid!"

Having watched to the end, the three could not help but cheer.

"Fine, I, Fu Jingyun, agree," the man on the left said first.

"So do I, Jing Haifeng."

"And me, Guan Yihan!"

The three spoke over one another. With their many years of storytelling experience, they knew this story would definitely become a hit, and the audience's rewards would surely be substantial.

The story seized the audience's attention, its plot linked one thrilling, heart-pounding turn after another!

Even if the story spread and others could tell it as well—

As the first storytellers to tell it, they would gain far more attention, draw more listeners, and receive greater rewards.

Though people still listened to old stories, they were not very willing to reward them.

Most already knew how the stories ended. They listened merely for amusement, to pass the time.

New stories were different. If the plot was gripping, listeners would reward the storyteller just to hear what happened next.

"Then welcome aboard, gentlemen. You may also recommend other storytellers to come find me. For every successful referral, I can pay you thirty wen."

Lin Zheyu smiled as he accepted the three men's coins.

With that, Lin Zheyu gained an additional income of two hundred and forty wen each day. If he developed even more people beneath him, his earnings would become even more gratifying.

Songyi City, a corner of the city.

"Little Mister Lin has started a new tale, one about Martial Artists. It's absolutely amazing!"

"A story about crude Martial Artists? What could possibly be so amazing about that?"

"Exactly, exactly. I still prefer scholar stories—seductive fox spirits and romantic escapades. Just thinking about it gets the blood pumping."

A rather lecherous-looking man chimed in.

"What's so interesting about those? War and blood, battles where every punch lands on flesh, roaring at injustice when you see it, drawing your blade when indignation fills your heart—that is the life a true man ought to live."

"..."

"Brother Zhou, what are they talking about? Why can't I understand?" Skinny Monkey, seated nearby, asked in confusion.

He had come from Bai Shan District to the Inner City to look for work.

"They're talking about Little Mister Lin of Bi Dan Teahouse."

"Little Mister Lin is a storyteller who recently made his name in Songyi City. His stories are incredibly exciting; scattered discussions about them can be heard throughout the streets and alleys."

"I like listening to his stories too, but I have to work and earn money, so I can't go often."

Zhou Weicheng said with a smile. He too was a fan of Lin Zheyu's storytelling.

"A storyteller? Little Mister Lin?" Skinny Monkey asked curiously. "Brother Zhou, what is Little Mister Lin's full name?"

"I think it's Lin Zheyu. He's a young scholar."

"Lin Zheyu!"

Skinny Monkey's eyes lit up.

The sky darkened as night fell.

The sun sank below the horizon, leaving only wisps of slanting sunset light.

Bai Shan District.

At the usual spot, several hoodlums lounged about, sitting or lying down as they gathered together to brag and shoot the breeze.

"Brother Yu, guess who I spotted in the city today?" Skinny Monkey arrived at the usual spot and asked Gao Yu excitedly.

Bang—

Gao Yu casually greeted him with a punch.

"Get lost."

"If you've got something to say, say it. Don't play riddles with me," Gao Yu said irritably.

"Yes, yes, yes."

Skinny Monkey rubbed his head, baring his teeth in pain.

Gao Yu was far too strong. That one punch had hurt like hell.

"Didn't you go into the city to work as a porter? What, did you run into an old flame from Hundred Flowers Pavilion?" another companion teased.

"You giving me the money?"

"I haven't been to Hundred Flowers Pavilion in a long time. Just thinking about that feeling—their tender skin, soft enough to squeeze water from, that silky touch—it really makes one lose oneself."

Skinny Monkey narrowed his eyes, savoring the memory in bliss.

The girls at Hundred Flowers Pavilion were far more tender than village women, and their moves came in endless varieties. Playing with them was pure enjoyment.

Bang!

Gao Yu threw another punch, saying impatiently, "Are you going to get to the point or not? Why keep people hanging?"

"Ah—"

"It hurts, it hurts, it hurts... Brother, go easier on me. You're going to beat my brains stupid."

Skinny Monkey complained. Seeing Gao Yu shoot him a sidelong glance, he hurriedly said, "I saw Lin Zheyu in the city!"

"Lin Zheyu?"

"That guy who used to detour around us whenever he saw us?"

"I haven't seen him in ages. I thought he'd died in some nameless corner," said the man with a blade of wild grass in his mouth.

In these times, people dying was commonplace, especially someone like Lin Zheyu, a refugee who had fled from another city with no one to rely on.

It was common for such people to walk down an empty street, get bagged over the head, hauled away, and sold as slaves.

Fortunately, when Lin Zheyu had first arrived in Songyi City, he had been skinny as a bamboo pole and looked malnourished. No one had thought much of him.

"Yeah, him."

"Didn't that kid say before that he was going into the city to become a storyteller? I asked around, and it turns out he really did."

"But we were fooled."

"He's become hugely popular in Songyi City. People go to hear his storytelling in an endless stream every day. I heard that the rewards alone he receives each day exceed two hundred wen."

Skinny Monkey said in amazement.

He had never expected storytelling to be such a profitable profession.

If someone else had made money, he would not have felt much about it, since he did not know them.

But the one making money was that down-and-out refugee scholar they had once looked down on. Skinny Monkey could not help but feel jealous.

"That profitable!"

Gao Yu was stunned. And that was only the rewards—his wages were not even included.

How much did Gao Yu earn each day after working himself to the bone doing manual labor? Yet that frail, cowardly wimp could earn so much.

An uncle might endure it, but an aunt could not.

"Brother Yu, I secretly asked around. Lin Zheyu lives alone now. He rented a small courtyard in the Inner City, and it's in a pretty secluded location."

"Should we go pull a job?"

Skinny Monkey said with shifty eyes.

How much could they earn from honest work?

For these hoodlums, proper work was merely a side job. Stealing chickens and dogs was their real profession.

"The Inner City is tightly guarded. If we get caught..." another companion hesitated.

"What's there to fear? At worst, we get locked up for a while. It's not like we haven't been in before," Skinny Monkey said disdainfully.

He was a frequent guest of the prison.

Everyone in there was talented, spoke pleasantly, and possessed all sorts of rare skills and tricks. Many of his own skills had been learned from the people inside.

Going in once was the same as furthering his studies.

"Then it's settled. Tonight, we'll go pull a job on him."

"While we're at it, we'll give him a scare. That guy is such a coward, all alone in Songyi City with no one to stand up for him. What do we have to fear from him?"

Gao Yu grinned.

Having recruited three storytellers, Lin Zheyu returned home in high spirits.

Once the ranks of storytellers grew large enough, all he would need to do in the future was sit back and collect money.

Heaven Rewards Diligence

Name: Lin Zheyu

Source Power: 2

Skills:

Wild Bull Fist (Beginner 46%)

"Several days have passed, yet the progress has not moved at all."

"After reaching Beginner, it will take one or two years to advance to Proficient."

"With normal training, it takes more than ten days to raise it by one percentage point. That truly is rather slow."

Lin Zheyu looked at the data in his consciousness and murmured inwardly.

Several days had passed. His depleted blood and qi had recovered, and his Essence, Qi, and Spirit had been nourished back to their peak. It was time to break through a limit once more.

Although he had no silver to buy medicinal supplements and could not use Source Power to improve himself for the time being, accumulating more Source Power could never be wrong.

Removing his clothes, Lin Zheyu began practicing Wild Bull Fist in the courtyard.

His fists struck the wooden stakes, producing dull bang, bang, bang sounds.

With every punch he threw, the muscles across his body bulged. Every blow erupted with his greatest strength.

Beneath his lean, wiry frame lay tremendous power.