Art of Making Friends

The knocking came with a familiar rhythm:

"Bang bang, smack—bang bang, smack—"

"Who is it?"

"It's Anbi!"

"Who's Anbi?"

"Anbi is Anbi!"

The annoyed voice outside sounded increasingly familiar, and the knocking grew more urgent. Only then did Tang Qi realize who it was.

Thinking of the little girl who had been the first to follow him in slamming the table, he hurriedly got up and opened the door.

The girl still wore her hood, her face hidden in shadow.

But something seemed to be propping up the hood's outline, making her head look a little large.

Though curious, Tang Qi did not ask. He simply said,

"What is it?"

"Big Sister said you might need this."

The girl timidly raised her hand and extended a razor from her roomy sleeve, then immediately drew it back.

The handle was engraved with silver-lined patterns and looked quite exquisite, nothing like something a village household would buy.

"She said nobody likes watching a vagrant perform. You should make yourself look more like a Poet."

"Oh, perhaps that's true."

Tang Qi quickly took it, but then realized that with his bird's-nest-like, unruly beard, he would probably shred his chin if he shaved without wetting it first.

"Is there any water?"

"There's a bucket in the courtyard."

"Then I'd better wait until the rain stops before shaving?"

"Okay."

Anbi nodded, yet stood there blankly without any sign of leaving.

"Is there something else?" Tang Qi asked.

"I can't really remember the lyrics to that song from today. Could you sing it again?"

Anbi fidgeted for a long while before making her request, then hurriedly explained,

"Anbi isn't stupid! It's just, the lyrics were too long..."

Tang Qi could not help laughing. "Do you like that song?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"Anbi can't explain it either, but liking something means liking it!"

As if declaring her loyalty, the little girl answered decisively. She even struck a pose and waved her fist in front of her.

"Anbi hates nobles too!"

Seeing that she did not seem to be faking it, Tang Qi suddenly thought of the "1" after Followers in his notebook.

The exact situation would need further confirmation, but considering that the girl might be his first fan, Tang Qi had no intention of refusing her request.

So he simply invited Anbi inside.

"I happened to write the lyrics in my journal. Want to come take a look?"

"Okay!"

Out of fondness for the ballad, the girl skipped into the room.

Completely unaware that entering a strange man's room was somewhat improper.

Fortunately, Tang Qi possessed the most basic moral principles. He really did just hand Anbi the contents of his journal to read—

He was not foolish enough to write about "transmigration."

He merely recounted everything that had happened in the tavern from Tang Qi's perspective.

He had also included the ballad:

"When they sing the praises of the past, who struggles for tomorrow?

On this night when they feast in silk and splendor, who is coerced by money..."

Anbi carefully memorized the lyrics, afraid she would forget the tune as well, and soon began humming along.

But halfway through, she suddenly stopped as if she had gotten stuck.

"Sorry!"

Tang Qi asked in confusion,

"Why are you apologizing?"

"Anbi thinks she sang it wrong!"

As the original creator, Tang Qi could naturally tell that she had gone off-key in a few places.

"Without professional training, it's perfectly normal to miss a few notes."

But she did not seem able to accept that. Lowering her head, she promised Tang Qi,

"Don't worry. Anbi won't sing this song in front of anyone else from now on."

"No, of course you can. Never mind a few wrong notes—even if you were tone-deaf, you could still do it."

You absolutely have to keep singing!

Otherwise, how was his fame supposed to rise?

"They'll think it sounds bad."

"First, a few off-key notes didn't affect your delivery. You sang very well. You were gritting your teeth so hard I thought you genuinely wanted to hang the nobles in the street—emotion matters far more than technique."

Tang Qi leaned a little closer and quietly told her,

"Second, so what if they think it sounds bad? Are you planning to sing it for money?"

"Of course not!"

Anbi shook her head.

"Anbi just thinks singing songs she likes makes her happy."

As his first "fan," Tang Qi did not understand the reason for her stubbornness, but he was willing to patiently guide her.

"Look, you aren't trying to gain approval or make a profit through singing.

You just want to sing.

Heaven gave everyone a throat, and with it, the right to sing.

The choice is yours. No one can take it from you—not even the original creator!

Of course, it's still best not to sing this in front of too many people. You can quietly sing it to yourself."

"But Anbi is different. They hate Anbi, so Anbi has to do everything perfectly. Then they won't be able to find fault with Anbi, or with this song."

Anbi's voice grew softer and softer as she tugged at Tang Qi's sleeve.

"Anbi likes your song... so Anbi doesn't want anyone saying bad things about it!"

That was beyond Tang Qi's understanding.

Though it was hard to imagine anyone disliking such a little girl.

Still, adhering to the principle of not judging without knowing the full story, he could not say much.

Fortunately, the girl was not that fragile to begin with. She merely bowed to Tang Qi and thanked him.

"Thank you, Poet big brother. Anbi really remembered it this time!"

"It's an honor in itself for my work to be loved. Also, just call me Tang Qi."

"My name is Anbi. I help out at the tavern, and I live here too!"

Though she often referred to herself that way, she still gave him a formal introduction.

She moved to the doorway, then seemed to remember something and suddenly turned back.

"Big Brother Tang Qi, will you still be here tomorrow?"

"Of course. I'll probably be staying here for a while."

"Then Big Sister taught Anbi how to brew the first barrel of Star Plum Wine. Anbi will bring some for you to drink tomorrow, okay? Together with Big Sister."

"Then I'll look forward to it."

"See you tomorrow. Sweet dreams!"

Anbi did not forget to gently close the door before running off again in quick little steps.

Listening as the girl's footsteps gradually vanished beneath the rain, Tang Qi felt rather cheerful as well.

Sure enough, a sense of belonging came from connections between people.

Meeting someone, even if it was only a little girl, made this unfamiliar world feel much warmer to him.

Even the rain no longer sounded quite so violent.

When he looked back at the journal, all it lacked was a conclusion.

Humming a little tune, he added the scene of his parting with Anbi to the end of the passage:

[She told me, "See you tomorrow," as though she too was looking forward to tomorrow.

Only as I wrote those words did I suddenly realize...

Perhaps I had made a new friend.]

The moment he wrote the period, Tang Qi suddenly heard a crisp lute note beside his ear.

"Twng—"

Like ripples spreading across a lake, the hum drifted by his ear, drawing closer and closer.

Then, at the end of the journal, a line of small text shimmering with a faint purple glow appeared upon the parchment—

[How others feel about you sometimes depends on yourself.

Your appropriate performance regained the drunkards' approval, while your respect for boundaries earned the girl's affection.

Perhaps you are a born bard.

What you will lack least in the future should be friends.]

[You have obtained the cantrip Art of Making Friends: Cast it on a designated non-hostile creature. For 1 minute, they will maintain a friendly attitude toward you. When the spell ends, the target will realize that you used magic to manipulate their emotions.

Note:

There are few eternal friends in this world, but there will always be new friends.

Wait, why are friends all over the world hunting me down?]