Tea House

Qin Sang did not know what kind of qi the "Netherworld Scripture" referred to, or whether it was the same thing as the True Qi and Inner Force Bai Jianglan had mentioned.

Broadly speaking, the "Netherworld Scripture" was divided into six levels.

Other than cultivation, the "Netherworld Scripture" did not contain a single word of nonsense and did not touch upon anything else. Qin Sang could not determine whether it was an internal cultivation manual or an immortal cultivation art.

The section on the "Yanluo Banner" described how to use that strand of qi to control the Yanluo Banner, but it could only be attempted after mastering the first level of the "Netherworld Scripture." As for what uses the Yanluo Banner actually had, there was no explanation.

After reading the entire text several times, Qin Sang was still lost in the clouds and mist. His head spun, and seeing that it was already late at night, he could only decide not to rush things and go rest first.

Security at the gates of Three Witches City was lax. Coupled with the fact that Qin Sang and Mingyue were both dressed in Daoist robes, they easily blended into the city.

Before entering, Qin Sang looked back and saw that outside the city gates, a town stretching for more than ten li had already gathered.

From the gates outward, there were two- and three-story buildings, then low houses and stone dwellings, then thatched shacks. At the very end, laying straw out in the open was enough to make a home.

Countless refugees from the north had gathered at the outermost edge. Most did not even have a shack to shield them from wind and rain. Fortunately, Qin Sang saw several wealthy households distributing porridge along the way, so the refugees could at least get a mouthful of food.

These days, Qin Sang had clearly felt that there were more and more refugees at Green Goat Temple as well. He had not expected the ferry crossing to be packed to bursting, nor so many people gathered outside Three Witches City. He wondered how they would survive this winter.

The first thing Qin Sang saw upon entering the city was a meat bun stall whose fragrance drifted ten li. His eyes nearly turned green. He hurriedly dragged Mingyue inside, and the two of them wolfed down a steamer of meat buns. Only after filling themselves halfway did they sway off to wander through the city.

Today was an auspicious day. Daoist Jixin had two rituals to perform. They were not major ceremonies for weddings or funerals, so the Daoist could handle them alone. Qin Sang therefore asked for permission and brought Mingyue into the city to sightsee.

At Green Goat Temple, Qin Sang had chatted with patients and worshippers and heard more than once about how marvelous Three Witches City was.

Now that he saw it with his own eyes, Three Witches City naturally could not compare to a modern metropolis by the standards of his previous life. Yet in this era, it was worthy of being called a grand city.

The two of them strutted through the streets in their Daoist robes.

Mingyue had red lips and white teeth, with an appearance that made people fond of him.

Though Qin Sang came from a farming family, Qin Sanwa had never suffered much as a child and was fairly clean-cut. Added to that was Qin Sang's confidence and spirit as a modern man, as well as his lavish spending. He did not look like a shabby, impoverished Daoist at all.

The two of them walking together were exceptionally eye-catching.

Many people along the way looked at them curiously. Qin Sang did not mind, but Mingyue was somewhat shy. He followed close on Qin Sang's heels, and when he truly could not bear it anymore, he tugged at Qin Sang's sleeve and whispered, "Senior Brother, where are we going?"

"Let's find some good food first..."

Qin Sang's eyes darted everywhere. Whenever he encountered food he had never seen before, he paid to buy it and shared it with Mingyue. Money flowed from his hands like water all the way. It was his enemy's money anyway, so he did not feel the slightest pain.

How could Mingyue ever have eaten so many good things while following that shabby old Daoist? He ate until his brows arched and his eyes smiled, hopping and skipping beside Qin Sang. Gradually, he relaxed, though he still felt sorry for Qin Sang. "Senior Brother, you spent so much money today. Master says money is hard to earn. You should save some for marrying a wife!"

Qin Sang pointed at the pastry shop ahead. "Do you want some?"

Mingyue clenched both fists and tapped them together. "Ah... Then just a little of each kind will do!"

When they came out of the pastry shop, Mingyue was carrying a large bundle of pastries wrapped in oiled paper. He said he wanted to bring them back to eat with Master.

As they ate and walked, Qin Sang's understanding of this world deepened further. Only now did he truly begin to merge Qin Sanwa's memories into himself.

After walking only a few streets, Qin Sang's stomach was completely full. He had also spotted a few business opportunities along the way. With the stolen money as capital and some diligent effort, it would not be hard to scrape together food and clothing. Yet Qin Sang could not summon any interest at all.

Laughing and chatting with Mingyue, they turned past the street. Ahead, a three-story wooden building burst into view. It stood beside the inner river of Three Witches City, where willows drooped in graceful rows. The sign above bore the three words "Honghu Tower," grand and imposing, though it was actually a tea house.

From time to time, the sharp crack of a storyteller's block came from within the tea house, followed by thunderous gasps and laughter. Qin Sang knew this was because of the rather famous storyteller inside.

He had entered the city precisely for this tea house.

To gather information, one naturally had to seek out places where people chatted and gathered. What Qin Sang wanted to know even more were the legends of immortals and strange spirits around Three Witches City, so he had deliberately asked around at Green Goat Temple and learned of Honghu Tower long ago.

Honghu Tower was the most famous tea house in the southern district of Three Witches City. It had three floors, with tea ranging from cheap to expensive. Tea drinkers of every stripe came and went, encompassing all walks of life.

Qin Sang sat down on the crowded first floor, ordered a pot of tea, and listened to the storyteller onstage.

Bang!

The plump storyteller suddenly slammed his storyteller's block down. The fat on his face trembled, and the tea house instantly fell silent enough to hear a pin drop.

"Speaking of this matter, there is an old tale that must be told. Five hundred years ago, there was a great hero named Wang Bin, who was won over by our Great Sui's ancestor, the Divine Martial Emperor... This man is the descendant of that Hero Wang..."

Qin Sang listened for a while. This storyteller, Liu Jingtian, truly lived up to his reputation. His tales rose and fell in breathtaking turns, gripping the heart with every word. Even ordinary matters became dazzling and extraordinary when spoken through his mouth.

But his mind was not on the story. His eyes swept around, and he began striking up conversations with the tea drinkers to either side.

He spent the entire day in the tea house, even eating lunch there. Qin Sang spared no silver, treating people to tea and making many "friends," then guided them with his way of speaking into discussing the local legends of immortals, ghosts, and monsters passed down around Three Witches City.

Liu Jingtian told stories onstage while a crowd below told old tales. Mingyue sat to one side, protecting the pastries with both hands as he listened with great relish. He sat there all day without finding it tedious.

When the sun slanted westward, Qin Sang and Mingyue finally left the tea house reluctantly. Qin Sang purchased a large batch of daily necessities the Daoist temple lacked, hired an ox cart to load them up, and met with Daoist Jixin after he finished the rituals. By the time they returned to Green Goat Temple, dusk had already closed in on all sides.

Before the evening lesson, the master and his two disciples sat around a brazier by the light of an oil lamp, sharing the pastries.

Mingyue bit into a fruit. Seeing Qin Sang reading through a Daoist scripture, he suddenly asked, "Senior Brother, why were you asking those people about legends of immortals in the mountains all day? Do you want to seek immortals too?"

The old Daoist raised his eyelids.

Qin Sang looked up and smiled. "Immortals? Who wouldn't want to become one? Unfortunately, not a single one of those legends is reliable."

"Master once said that people who go into deep mountains and vast rivers will definitely never find immortals. Immortal masters would not stay in those godforsaken places where not even birds shit," Mingyue said earnestly, afraid that Qin Sang would stray onto the wrong path. "Senior Brother, those legends are all fake. Don't believe them."

Qin Sang's eyes lit up as he looked toward the old Daoist.

After finishing a piece of pastry, Daoist Jixin slowly wiped his hands and snorted. "Boy, if you want to seek an immortal opportunity on Cuiming Mountain, this poor Daoist advises you not to waste your effort. Hurry down the mountain and live an honest life, lest you cut off the incense of your Qin family."