Winter days were short. Before anyone knew it, darkness had fallen, and scattered snowflakes were drifting down again!
"As the saying goes, heroes have sprung from the young since ancient times. Back then, at the Dragon Palace Chess Tournament..."
In a tavern near the Imperial Feather Guards' barracks, a storyteller was recounting the Imperial Grandson's exploits. He had reached a thrilling passage-the Dragon Palace Chess Tournament, the climax of the tale.
Everyone in the tavern listened intently. A scholar sat at a table in the corner, his clothes neither old nor new. He looked like a Provincial Graduate, and his expression was decidedly peculiar as he listened to the storyteller.
But stories about the Imperial Grandson had become all the rage lately, especially the two climaxes: the Dragon Palace Chess Tournament and his achievements in the southwest. They never failed to captivate an audience.
Here, they seemed even more popular than elsewhere.
The scholar frowned slightly and looked at the men seated ahead of him. They were Imperial Feather Guards, still wearing their uniforms, having rushed straight here after coming off duty to eat while listening to the storyteller.
When the story reached the Imperial Grandson's magnificent display of prowess, the men nodded, satisfaction spreading across their faces.
One of them, apparently a Hundred-Household Officer, even called out, "Waiter, New Year's almost here! Bring us two more pots of wine and a few more dishes."
"Storyteller, well told! Here's your reward. Tell that Dragon Palace part again!" With that, he tossed over a piece of silver.
The waiter bowed and agreed with a smile, returning moments later with a tray. The storyteller was even more delighted. That piece of silver weighed at least a tael and a little more-a handsome sum.
The storyteller immediately agreed with a smile and began