Recording Stories, Earning Rewards

As the only place in Star Plum Town that could be called a "commercial establishment,"

the [Golden Oak] not only sold its family recipe Star Plum Wine, but also served as lodging for outsiders.

The first floor was the tavern hall, while several rooms had been opened up on the second floor to serve as an inn.

Hardly anyone ever visited this remote town, making Tang Qi its only current guest.

Normally, a single room cost five copper coins a night, but because his performance tonight had brought in extra sales, the notoriously stingy Catherine generously paid for his stay—

She was a shrewd woman. She seemed able to tell that Tang Qi could bring in more profit than this.

If he had not stirred up the drunkards' enthusiasm and left her busy working late into the night, the two of them might have discussed future business arrangements.

But Tang Qi also needed a quiet place to rest, so there was no harm in leaving the negotiations for tomorrow.

After staying indoors for so long, his clothes had dried. He casually tossed his leather jacket onto the wooden bed padded with straw.

Lighting the candle lamp on the table, he finally had time to eat his fill.

The stewed beans had already gone a little cold, while the rye bread was dry and rough, catching in his throat with even a faint bitter taste.

But the sweetness of the Star Plum Wine made up for that—

Compared to the heaviness and bitterness of dark beer, plum wine was far smoother, like a trickling stream flowing down his throat.

The lingering liquor clung to the tip of his tongue, bringing a faint, continuous prickling sensation, as though spirits in the wine were dancing across his taste buds.

Tang Qi preferred to call it sparkling juice, yet it did indeed possess the effects alcohol ought to have.

Though it went down icy cold, his body gradually warmed.

His thoughts began to wander, giving Tang Qi the leisure to ponder his future plans—

Since he had arrived in this unfamiliar world, he had to adapt and fit in.

He had always been immensely curious about fantasy worlds, so there was nothing to complain about.

"So my top priority now is stability, and then making money?

Otherwise, I won't be able to get a passing merchant caravan to take me away from here."

Some parts of his experience in the Twilight Forest were already missing.

He only remembered starving until he passed out, but not who had dragged him to the town.

Even so, he had heard a little about how dangerous that forest was.

He did not dare gamble that the Goddess of Fortune would favor him a second time.

"And after leaving here, should I return to the Poet Academy?"

Though his mentor had not explicitly told Tang Qi to leave, everything he said implied that Tang Qi was unsuited to becoming a bard.

But unlike the previous owner of this body, Tang Qi considered himself more tactful. Perhaps he could go back and secure a decent job?

"But being a jester means nothing more than kissing nobles' asses, and being a spy comes with too much psychological pressure and no freedom... What other choices are there?"

Now that he had come to a fantasy world, once he had food and shelter taken care of, he naturally wanted to experience everything this world had to offer—including adventure.

Tang Qi, given a second life, was not afraid of death.

He was more afraid that he would not live brilliantly enough.

No one in his memories had ever published the Guide to Identifying Other Races. If possible, he would not mind being the pioneer.

"So, becoming an adventurer?"

So-called "adventurers" were not actually a profession, but more of a collective term—covering those who, by chance or choice, took the initiative to explore the world.

But his martial skills could only be said to have received some training, making him a little stronger than ordinary civilians.

If he ran into a goblin, it would already be impressive if he could trade blows with it. He certainly could not call that a skill capable of protecting himself.

Even if he had filled his stomach today, if he dueled that Jackal head-on, he would still end up beaten to the ground.

"And no team would recruit a bard."

An adventuring party was a group of people gambling with their lives. What would be the point of letting a Poet who could not use magic join them?

So that when they fought, he could cower in a corner and sing battle songs to cheer them on?

Or so that after they died in battle, someone could sing elegies and collect their corpses?

As for magic...

Even at the only Poet Academy, no one had deciphered the magic of music—

Naturally, there were all kinds of reasons for that.

For example, broken inheritances, limits of talent, the decline of the Poet Academy, the motives behind noble sponsorship, and so on...

But if they could not learn it, they could not learn it. Tang Qi was even less likely to be an exception.

After cleaning every last bit of food from the tray, Tang Qi, who realized he had no redeeming qualities whatsoever, could not help sighing toward the heavens.

"So I really can only be a Poet who sings for a living for the rest of my life!"

Looking at it that way, returning to the Poet Academy and having his mentor arrange work for him was actually the most suitable choice...

With his talent for making ready-made dishes and by borrowing some popular music to please the masses, perhaps he could do quite well by taking the plagiarism route.

With no other options, Tang Qi could only rummage through his rain-soaked bundle for paper and pen, intending to list out his future plans one by one.

But the moment his hands reached into the damp cloth bag, his fingertips brushed against something leather.

He took it out and saw that it seemed to be a heavy notebook.

The violet cowhide cover was plated with Gilded Patterns, woven into an enormous musical note stamped in the center. It glimmered faintly in the candlelight, and its texture alone made it seem quite expensive.

Tang Qi did not remember having such a book in his bundle.

He could not possibly afford it.

Driven by curiosity, he opened the title page to see what was inside.

The pages were as thick as parchment and slightly yellowed.

Yet all that met his eyes was a line written in the Common Tongue—

[Record stories, receive rewards; spread your fame, receive more rewards.]

"Is this my golden finger?"

Since he had never seen this book before, Tang Qi made his deductions as he turned to the next page.

Aside from a Plain White Quill tucked between the pages, there was only a block of information—

[Tang Qi Weinberg]

Fame: Unknown

Followers: 1

Skills: None

Items: [Slaver Pen]

Tang Qi narrowed his eyes, his gaze briefly passing over his dismal reputation.

While wondering where the "1" had come from, he scrutinized the [Items] section more closely and found that it actually listed a strange object—

[Slaver Pen]

Rank: Uncommon

Description: This quill seemed to contain an inexhaustible supply of ink.

Note: When a slave possesses inexhaustible labor, he becomes the greatest slave in history—Lord of the Golden Country, "the Greatest Pioneer," Sultan Adel.

Tang Qi picked up the quill and examined it carefully in his palm. No matter how he looked at it, it seemed utterly ordinary.

"So you're telling me to keep writing and not hold back?"

He immediately turned to the third page, only to find nothing but pre-drawn lines and blank space.

Staring at the empty page, Tang Qi suddenly felt an inexplicable urge to express himself, making him want to pick up the quill and write something.

"The book says recording stories will earn rewards.

But it doesn't say what stories to record, or whether they need to be real or fictional.

It also doesn't mention whether the rewards are material or abstract..."

Scratching his curly hair, Tang Qi felt rather lost.

"Since it says 'record' rather than 'compose,' would it be better to write about my own experiences? Like keeping a diary?"

This book had appeared from nowhere, yet it clearly recorded his physical condition and every item he possessed.

With the attitude of treating a dead horse as if it were alive, Tang Qi simply decided to write about everything that had happened since he crossed into this world.

Though brief, it should still count as a little drama of "a bard proving himself," right?

Thinking that he would need to increase his fame in the future, and that there might even be a chance to publish it someday,

he simply began the first entry in diary form, using the Common Tongue and writing according to the memories in his mind—

[June 7, Year 1000 of the Lost Era, Star Plum Town, torrential rain.

One year after setting out on my journey, I was kicked out of a tavern...]

Having some skill in writing lyrics, Tang Qi's prose naturally was not bad.

Today's experience could not be called exciting, but it had a beginning, development, turn, and conclusion, so writing it plainly came easily enough.

It was only that the raging downpour outside was too violent, making it hard to settle his mind.

Just as he was about to write the ending in fits and starts, Tang Qi, clutching his thick curls, suddenly heard a knock at the door.