The old storyteller truly was only an ordinary mortal.
Not long after Su Mo took over the tavern, he died...
He died of old age, with a smile still on his face, as though he had no regrets about his life.
Su Mo dismissed the tavern's staff and gave the old storyteller a simple burial.
Withered leaves drifted down, and he stood before the old storyteller's grave for a long time.
The countless fallen leaves seemed to speak of the unremarkable lives and deaths of mortals.
He had once asked the old storyteller, "If you could keep living, would you wish to?"
He had not said that he could let the old storyteller live for a very long time...
The old man knew that Su Mo was no ordinary person, but he still shook his head and refused.
He said, "Having watched all manner of drinkers and tea patrons, all the myriad faces of mortal life, I am already content. People only want to live forever because there are still things they cannot let go of."
"Some cannot let go of the people beside them; others cannot let go of the things in their hands."
"I have lived my whole life in poverty. There is nothing left I cannot let go of."
Perhaps departing this way was the best resting place for him...
He had seen that Su Mo was searching for a way back, and advised him to first seek his path.
It was laughable, really. Su Mo, a Sage of the Mortal Realm, could not see things as openly as an ordinary old man.
He could not understand, and could not let go.
Yet he knew the old storyteller's words held truth: before seeking a way back, first seek the path.
He had always been searching for a