Hangers-on were most plentiful in Capital City. Those of a higher rank could style themselves as men of letters, serving as genteel retainers to the rich and powerful, lending polish to their public image and doing their bidding in exchange for their upkeep.
The most common, and by far the most numerous, were people from the bottom rungs of society with little education.
They were a little better than the local thugs who went around stirring up trouble. At least they knew to earn silver for their living. Usually, they helped one household with an errand, carried a sedan chair for another, or took employment at a shop doing miscellaneous chores, earning money through their labor.
This teahouse had several such hangers-on. They did not depend exclusively on it for their livelihood, but occasionally received word in advance and waited here, enjoying free tea, fruit, and snacks before getting to work during the storyteller's breaks.
What did they do? They helped liven up the atmosphere and keep the customers around.
They did not force anyone to stay. Instead, they drew people in with all kinds of gossip.
Just as now, when the storyteller finished his closing remarks, he gave a nearby table a meaningful glance.
The young man at that table spoke up in a ringing voice. "The storyteller's thirsty. Let's give him a little rest before he continues, shall we?"
Someone complained, "Now we've got tea but no story. Just drinking water is far too dull!"
The young man said, "Then let's talk about some strange happenings. It's not every day we all get together..."
As he spoke, he stood up, looked around, and smiled. "Have you all heard of the Water Cloud Shrine?"
Oh? What strange happenings had there been at the Water Cloud Shrine?
The regulars all