The Scholar Who Writes Stories

When he woke up in the morning, the air outside was exceptionally crisp and cold.

Song You borrowed a fishing rod from the boatman and, wearing the Lotus Seed Pod Robe gifted by Prefect Yu, sat in the spot the boatman had occupied the night before. The river in front of him exuded a chill, its misty expanse silent. The surroundings were quiet, and the fishing line, cast into the water, occasionally sent out small ripples, barely perceptible in the mist.

He glanced around, his vision filled with green mountains.

The other passengers were either inside their cabins or still asleep. Only Three Flower Lady sat primly and quietly by his leg, her eyes fixed intently on where the fishing line met the water's surface.

The boatman had already begun preparing breakfast.

"What if you can't catch anything?"

Song You turned his head and asked the cat softly.

Three Flower Lady looked up at his words, her gaze calm. After a moment, she lowered her head and began to lick her paw.

Song You didn't understand her meaning.

A thudding sound came from behind him – the boatman chopping fish bones.

Three Flower Lady's ears twitched at the sound. She looked up again and said to him in a very small voice:

"It's fine if you can't catch anything."

Song You listened, his expression still placid.

But then he suddenly thought of a question—

Three Flower Lady usually only caught mice at night. Before she met him, if she didn't catch birds or insects during the day, and if no one offered her food, what did she eat? He had never heard Three Flower Lady complain of hunger. He had always assumed it was because he cooked promptly and she could find food elsewhere. Now, it seemed that might not be the case.

"What if Three Flower Lady is hungry?"

"Three Flower Lady is used to being hungry."

"Hmm..."

Song You lifted his fishing rod, and a flash of silver-white left the water. Pulled by the line, it landed precisely in his hand.

"I caught one."

This fish was Three Flower Lady's breakfast.

At the same time, a voice came from behind him.

"Mister, you have quite the refined hobby."

Without needing to be told, he knew it was the scholar surnamed Fu.

Footsteps soon followed behind him.

"Fishing on a cold river, taking in the mountains and rivers, conversing with a cat – how many people wish they had your leisure, Mister, yet lack the state of mind for it." The footsteps stopped behind Song You. Seeing him reel in his line, the scholar asked with some curiosity, "Mister, you've only caught this one small fish, why stop now?"

"It's enough for the cat to eat."

"Wonderful!"

The scholar brought another folding stool and sat beside Song You. "Since you are from Lingquan County, Mister, did you happen to pass through Yidu on your journey?"

"Yidu is a prosperous city; of course, I had to see it."

"That's true. I've traveled far and wide for many years, and I've rarely seen a city as prosperous and open-minded as Yidu." The scholar paused. "Yangcheng is an exception, and I haven't been to Changjing yet."

"How is Yangcheng?"

"Spring breezes for miles, ten thousand homes ablaze with light, a dreamlike prosperity."

"Then I must see it."

Song You reeled in his fishing rod and put it back in its place.

The scholar stood up and turned to look at him. "I haven't asked yet, Mister, where are you headed on this trip?"

"Traveling the world; no fixed destination for now."

"Haha! Life should be like this!"

The scholar's eyebrows couldn't help but rise, and he clapped his hands in approval, feeling that this Mister was truly to his liking.

"But why are you going to Lingbo?"

"To deliver a letter for an old man who sells tea along the way."

"Just to deliver a letter?"

"I have no other destination in mind anyway."

"Wonderful! Truly wonderful!"

The scholar couldn't help but applaud, then shook his head. "It's a pity I've been away from home for so long this time, otherwise, I would have joined you, Mister!"

"Perhaps we'll meet again in the future."

"Oh, right—"

The scholar seemed to just remember. "Since you passed through Yidu, Mister, have you heard about the case of the Earth-Evasion Thief that caused such a stir in Yidu last year? And the matter of the Taian Temple monk that has been widely discussed among the people?"

Song You glanced down at Three Flower Lady eating the fish and replied placidly:

"I have heard of it."

"May I hear it?"

"Haven't you already heard it?"

"I have, indeed." The scholar sighed. "But I only heard bits and pieces from people at the teahouse. Even after paying for tea, I didn't get the full story. What a shame."

"..."

Song You couldn't help but glance at him. "You truly are fascinated by these kinds of stories..."

"To be honest, Mister, this is my greatest hobby. Besides that, I'm also preparing a book, though it doesn't have a title yet. In short, it will encompass all the wondrous and strange matters in the world. Preferably, things that are real and interesting. That's why I'm so eager to collect these stories."

"I see."

"Haha! I'm not afraid you'll laugh at me!" The scholar chuckled. "From a young age, I wasn't very interested in classics or political theory. I've studied so much, yet I'm still quite dull. Passing the imperial examinations is likely hopeless for me in this lifetime. If this book can be successfully prepared, it will first be an accomplishment of something I've always wanted to do. Secondly, hehe, although it's not a work to be proud of, and may not even be considered high literature, with this book, perhaps I, Fu, can also be remembered in the green history like the dukes and ministers of past dynasties."

Song You listened and seriously considered it. It was indeed possible.

As the scholar said, these kinds of books were considered miscellaneous writings in this era, not fitting for refined circles, and even scorned by some old scholars. Some authors didn't dare to leave their names, fearing shame. Yet, these books were widely popular and circulated far more than famous classics.

And there weren't many similar books on the market.

One book, the Taoli Suishi Ji, wasn't written particularly well, and interspersed a large amount of content only understandable to those in the Xuanmen. Yet, it still swept across the land at an incredibly fast pace.

Why?

Everyone was interested in these kinds of stories, but there were too few people who could write them well.

If this scholar wrote well, it might truly endure.

Song You naturally didn't have the decadent mindset of this era and didn't discriminate against such miscellaneous writings. Thinking about it carefully, participating in the creation of a book that could be passed down for a thousand years was quite interesting. Even if he would be nothing but dust and bones by the time it reached later generations.

As if by chance, as they were leaving, in the Cloud Talk Shed at the North Tile Yard, he heard Old Mr. Zhang tell a detailed story.

"I have many such stories."

"Coincidentally, the road ahead is long."

"It is indeed long."

"Let me pour you some wine!"

"There's one condition."

"Please tell me, Mister."

"I'll tell one story, and you must tell one in return. That way, we'll be even, with no debts between us."

"It's a deal!"

"I'll tell the story of the Earth-Escape Thief first."

"I'm all ears."

"This goes back several years. That thief was originally surnamed Mo and lived outside Yidu City, in Lianhua Village. He was a fallen scholar..."

Song You spoke softly, narrating in detail.

He largely referenced the structure of Old Mr. Zhang's story, recalling it from memory and retelling it, naturally adding his own flavor. At the same time, he omitted Old Mr. Zhang's storytelling techniques and interjections, making it sound like an ordinary neighbor telling you a story that happened nearby under the banyan tree at dusk.

The scholar listened as if entranced, completely absorbed.

Even the other family of three couldn't help but listen from the cabin. The little girl's bright, round eyes seemed to be envisioning a world full of mystery.

After he finished, they smelled the porridge and ate breakfast first.

The plain porridge was bland, perfectly suited for the cold morning on the river.

After the meal, it was the scholar's turn to tell a story.

"When I was traveling in Yangzhou, I heard a story from a mountain hermit."

"Please tell."

"It's said that hundreds of years ago, Yangzhou was far from the prosperity it has now. There were even Great Yao residing there. All the mountain ranges off the main roads were hunting grounds for Great Yao, and mountain Yao often came down to harm people. It happened to be the end of the previous dynasty, with political chaos and the people suffering. At that time, a Taoist priest passed through this area, carrying a Green Jade Sword. He battled the Yao and Mo on Black Solitary Mountain for a full half-year, finally slaying it with his sword. Only then did Yangzhou become peaceful."

Due to the lack of details, the scholar's story was much shorter. "That Taoist priest, I heard, came from Fulong Temple. As for where Fulong Temple is, the story doesn't say, and no one knows. I heard the name Fulong Temple of Yinshan Mountain from another story, so I boldly guessed that it might be the same temple."

"Good."

Song You showed a look of helplessness.

He subconsciously tried to recall if any of his ancestors from hundreds of years ago were skilled swordsmen.

But it didn't matter.

Perhaps the story had been distorted through transmission, perhaps an ancestor had learned to use a sword for a period after descending the mountain, or perhaps he himself hadn't remembered correctly. These were all common occurrences.

The main thing was that he wasn't particularly interested in hearing it.

The successive abbots of Fulong Temple rarely left behind records of their travels. Even Song You's master rarely spoke of his own experiences and gains from his youth, fearing it would influence future generations. Everyone should have their own path. And for ancestors from the distant past, whom he had never met, they were not much different from strangers in Song You's heart.

"What do you think of this story, Mister?"

"The story is grand, but not very interesting."

"Ha! I didn't expect your opinion to align with mine!" the scholar laughed. "I have a cousin who always asks me to tell stories. He prefers this type: the grander the story, the more gods and buddhas, the higher the Magical Power of the characters, and he doesn't care about anything else, he just finds it interesting. But I don't really like it."

Song You pondered for a moment and understood. This scholar must have thought that since he was also from Lingquan County and had heard of Fulong Temple, he specifically told a story about Fulong Temple.

"You don't need to tell any more stories about Fulong Temple."

"What kind do you prefer, Mister?"

"Interesting ones."

"Then I suppose I told you the last one for nothing. Let me tell you another one to make up for it!"

"That won't be necessary."

"Please don't be so polite, Mister. I intend to compile these into a book, so one or two stories won't make a difference. When we're out on the road, we're all strangers. It's best to be carefree."

"You make a good point."

Song You stopped trying to dissuade him and looked at the little girl beside him.

The girl had been playing with the water by the side of the boat, listening to their conversation. Suddenly, as if drawn by a light in the water, she leaned over the edge of the boat to get a closer look.

A huge dark shadow was moving beneath the water.

Song You tapped his finger on the boat's edge, catching the little girl's attention. He smiled and reminded her not to play with the water. After she sat down properly, he felt relieved. He glanced back at the river; the dark shadow had already disappeared.

While they were talking, the light boat had passed through ten thousand mountains.

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