A true bard

Tang Qi had no idea what was going on. Just as he was about to turn away, a man approached him from behind.

He had narrow eyes, a flat nose, and thin lips, with a straight mustache lending him a little masculinity.

A sword hung at his waist, and he wore chain mail.

Such attire was uncommon in the countryside, distinguishing him at a glance from the drunken farmers—

Mel, the landlord of Star Plum Town, would never live in some impoverished backwater.

To that end, he had hired three professional mercenaries to watch over his orchard. They also served as village guards, maintaining order alongside another band of thugs.

Thoroughly drunk now, the man staggered forward, his metal gear clanking.

The sound drew the other drunks' attention, too. For a moment, the noisy tavern gradually fell quiet, its shouting giving way to whispers:

"Those damned bastards actually do some good sometimes, huh?"

"I'd rather they kick this asshole out again than make me listen to that racket."

"My grandma's ears are saved!"

Catherine had inherited the tavern, but running it was hardly smooth sailing.

"A pretty girl is a dawn-dusk flower," as the saying went in Star Plum Town.

The flower grew deep in the Twilight Forest to the west, where day and night magically alternated every four hours.

Whether bathed in sunlight or plunged into darkness, this wondrous plant reflecting the sun and moon never stopped shining, like a lamp that never went out in the forest.

Willingly or otherwise, it attracted countless gazes, just as a flower drew bees and butterflies.

And where there were bees and butterflies, there were also flies, snakes, and rats—

Whenever someone harassed Catherine, the mercenary leader, Black Snake, sent his subordinate Jackal to deal with it.

It was Jackal who had kicked Tang Qi out of the tavern.

The drunks' whispers reached Jackal's ears. Enjoying their faint praise, he whistled a little tune out of key.

It meant people feared him, even if he was merely riding on Black Snake's reputation.

Alcohol swelled his smugness. He slung an arm around Tang Qi's shoulders and held him in a crushing grip.

He was missing a little finger, but that did nothing to weaken the other four.

His narrow eyes squinted so tightly that their pupils were hidden.

Alcohol and foul breath mingled into a pungent stench as he murmured in a half-threatening tone:

"That kick didn't hurt enough last time, did it?"

Tang Qi was weak all over and could not move.

Remembering what Jackal had done, he could hardly help feeling bitter—

His death in the rain had mostly been due to this body's frailty. The man had not intended to kill him.

Still, he had been a contributing cause.

Tang Qi did not want to back down. He felt an urge to grab the lute and smash it over the man's head.

But the man had companions. With his limbs this weak, would he have any chance of escaping afterward?

Of course, those companions were blind drunk and might not be in much better shape...

During his brief hesitation, Catherine suddenly spoke:

"Jackal, don't interrupt our business."

Jackal raised his eyebrows in surprise, but released Tang Qi.

Catherine was the most beautiful dawn-dusk flower, the one his boss had his eye on. Naturally, he showed her due respect.

Still, he spread his hands and asked mockingly:

"He's just a vagrant. What business could you have with him?"

"I'm asking for another chance to perform."

Tang Qi suppressed his irritation, moved as far from Jackal as possible, and took the opening she had offered.

Catherine frowned. Anyone could tell she was less than willing.

Jackal laughed and turned to the drunks behind him, raising his shrill voice:

"Perform? Did you hear that? He actually called that sawing earlier a 'performance'!"

"Fuck you, Jackal! I make a hell of a lot more rhythm sawing wood than he does singing!"

"Hahaha!"

Jackal's grin widened as he grabbed Tang Qi by his leather coat.

"You think carrying a broken lute makes you a choir?

Get lost, vagrant. Stay away from this girl—

Unless you want another kick!"

Facing Jackal head-on, Tang Qi thought the angle was just right.

He could grab the lute and slam it straight into the man's temple—

"Let him go, Jackal."

Catherine sighed and hastily caught his armored arm.

"Remember what I said? If Black Snake still wants to drink here, don't go starting trouble."

Her words seemed to brook no argument.

They also reached a scruffy man with shoulder-length black hair sitting at a table in the corner.

With both legs propped on the table, he leaned back and called:

"Don't give the lady a headache. Jackal, come back and drink."

His tone was calm, but carried unmistakable authority.

Jackal frowned, shot Tang Qi a sidelong squint, and spat under his breath before returning sulkily to his seat.

Meeting Black Snake's cold, piercing eyes, he could not help grumbling:

"Boss, didn't you see that vagrant harassing Catherine? I was just..."

He did not even understand why mercenaries like them had to listen to that little bitch.

If his boss liked her so much, why not just force himself on her?

Black Snake had plans of his own.

Rubbing the prickly stubble on his chin, he replied lazily:

"Once he screws up again, those drunks will throw him out themselves."

"Instead of wasting your time on him, take off your gear and enjoy the booze!"

After that teasing remark, the one-eyed dwarf beside him burst out laughing.

"He'll definitely screw up. I've been around for years, and I've never met a bard with any real substance!

Those slick bastards either kiss noble asses or sing the same tired songs about dragon-slaying heroes—and even those are made up!"

His shout drew derisive laughter throughout the tavern.

The drunks raised their cups and drank deeply, shouting in unison:

"Fuck giant dragons! Fuck heroes!"

Watching the excitement build over there, Catherine shook her head and pressed a hand to her forehead behind the bar.

"Did you hear that? Your stories are trite and outdated.

Nobody wants to hear you spin fanciful legends and sing the praises of princes and nobles.

Even if you choose another tune and perform again, nothing will change."

Tang Qi recalled the pieces his predecessor had practiced at the academy and found that the textbooks were indeed exactly as Catherine described—

Bard's Song was the only poet academy on the Forgotten Continent, and the vast majority of bards came from it.

For various reasons, it had once fallen into decline.

Now revived through sponsorship from the Tyron Empire on the continent's west coast, it had become a mouthpiece for those in power, with no independence whatsoever.

Its students became either court jesters or spies operating in the shadows.

The few who traveled the world with dreams in their hearts mostly died along the way.

As for those romantic poets of legend who rode giant dragons and frequented brothels, or the versatile adventuring companions brimming with clever ideas...

My friend, comforting yourself was fine, but don't actually fool yourself.

Spellcasters able to connect to the magic web and patiently study it were rare enough. Sensing magic within music required even greater talent.

As a result, true bards could be counted on one's fingers—

Every famous one had already been immortalized in legend.

But there were no living legends in this world.

His teacher Ulasang, a halfling who had lived for 120 years, most often said, "May the gods bless you." His greatest claim to fame was publishing Ulasang's One Thousand and One Praises.

Twenty years ago, he had successfully applied to have it adopted as an academy textbook. It contained most of the auspicious words noble lords liked to hear, along with the appropriate occasions for using them.

Most of his students had become court musicians and made a fortune.

But on the East Coast of the Continent, where the major cities governed themselves independently, with trade and diplomacy sustained only by the tenuous pact known as the Lord Alliance...

In Star Plum Town, where a landlord squeezed the people dry...

Nobody wanted to hear him kiss noble asses.

Once Tang Qi understood that, he made up his mind.

He wiped the strings and plucked out his first noise:

Twang—

"Who was that? Who just let out a sneaky fart?"

Unfortunately, a lute's gut strings wore out easily, and his instrument had no special protection.

It had been thrown into the mud earlier, then soaked through by the downpour.

Lasting until now before snapping already made it remarkably durable.

Seeing that the vagrant before her had become the drunks' entertainment, Catherine could not understand his stubbornness. She simply said:

"Put down your lute and eat something by the fireplace. Stop bothering these drunks."

Tang Qi looked up and asked:

"You said nobody likes fanciful legends. What do they like hearing, then?"

"How should I know?"

Seeing that he refused to give up, Catherine no longer wanted to bother with him and answered irritably:

"They like hearing what they like hearing."

"Thank you."

"Something's wrong with you."

She muttered under her breath, then resumed wiping the cup in her hands.

The wooden kitchen door opened just then.

A little girl with her face hidden beneath a hood hurried out carrying a tray.

On it were sliced black rye bread, stewed beans, and a cup of faintly glowing Star Plum Wine.

Star plums were a local specialty, but without magical protection they kept for only three days, making them difficult to transport. They were best brewed into plum wine without delay.

Thus, while the wine was considered scarce in Dragon Gold City, people here could drink it like water.

Seeing the vagrant who had been kicked outside staring thoughtfully at his lute strings, the girl started forward to hand him the tray.

But Catherine reached out to stop her.

The girl did not understand. She merely tilted her head and asked:

"Sis, aren't we letting him eat?"

Her sister had said she would give him a meal, which was why she had hurried into the kitchen to prepare it.

Had she known her sister would change her mind, she would have slacked off and not bothered.

Catherine only sighed softly.

"Wait until he's finished singing."

The little girl blinked.

"Then should I wait outside for him? That way, he can eat as soon as he's thrown out."

She had not heard much music, but she knew what sounded grating.

The sounds from that lute were like her claws scraping an iron plate.

They made a sharp, squealing noise that set one's hair on end.

Even her tail was about to stick straight up.

Meanwhile, seeing Tang Qi remain silent for so long, the drunks began laughing with abandon:

"My esteemed artist, why haven't you begun your grand performance?"

"Start singing! I'm still waiting for you to scare my grandma back to life!"

"Oh, give it a rest. Stop interrupting my drinking, will you? I've got work tomorrow morning..."

Tang Qi put down the lute with its broken string. The drunks assumed he was giving up, and another roar of laughter erupted.

Fortunately, he was thick-skinned enough not to care. He merely considered how to get the entire tavern into the mood—

At its simplest, a song consisted of four parts: an intro, a verse, a chorus, and an outro.

The intro was crucial. It directly determined whether he could catch these drunks' ears and draw them into the music.

Otherwise, with everyone already viewing him as a joke, Tang Qi could never drown out their laughter with his unaccompanied voice alone.

All those noises would mingle together, turning the whole thing into yet another farce.

But with the lute silenced, he had lost the crucial support for his intro.

He needed a substitute to help him command the room.

He recalled that indispensable first sound bands used at the start of a performance to capture the audience's attention—

A drumbeat.

Tang Qi's eyes lit up.

He approached the tavern bar and slammed his palm hard against the long wooden counter.