To casually pierce the palms of three burly men with chopsticks without even lifting one's head required extraordinarily sharp perception and immense strength.
The two ate and chatted as time slipped past in the blink of an eye.
Soon, it was time for the storytelling session.
Over the past dozen or so days, the tales Lin Zheyu spun had spread by word of mouth among the patrons, traveling farther with each passing day.
As his reputation grew, more and more wealthy young masters flocked to Bidan Teahouse to hear him speak.
These young lords were far more generous with their rewards than ordinary patrons.
Today, Lin Zheyu earned over three hundred copper coins—considerably more than before.
His base pay remained one hundred copper coins for a two-hour session, but tips alone brought in more than two hundred.
It helped immensely that whenever the story reached a thrilling climax, the patrons would whoop with excitement and shower him with coins.
Seeing how enthusiastically the crowd tipped, Lin Zheyu was swept up in the fervor and spoke for an extra ten minutes.
"Look over there. Liang Song came today, too," Wu Yinghe said, pointing toward Liang Song, who was sitting alone by the window.
He was a man who looked to be in his fifties, with shoulder-length hair that was unkempt and frizzy, and a scraggly, untidy beard. He paid no heed to his appearance.
Having just finished listening to the story, the man seemed to be in a good mood.
He sipped a few cups of liquor and gazed out the window, admiring the scenery with a faint smile playing on his lips.
Straightening his clothes, Lin Zheyu picked up a small pot of liquor and walked over.
The liquor was called General's Tears and was widely renowned.
General's Tears was not exceptionally strong by proof, but it burned fiercely and went straight to the head.
Manager Wu had mentioned that this was Liang Song's favorite drink.
"Greetings, Master Liang. I am Lin Zheyu, the storyteller here at Bidan Teahouse."
"I brought this liquor for you. Please, have a taste."
Lin Zheyu filled Liang Song's cup, speaking with utmost courtesy.
Liang Song glanced at him with a slight smile but said nothing, returning to his contemplation of the view outside.
Lin Zheyu did not disturb Liang Song's quiet enjoyment. After instructing the waiter to bring a few side dishes, he sat beside him and silently watched the scenery as well.
Aside from storytelling, he had nothing pressing to attend to anyway.
A long time passed.
The two sat watching the scenery for over two hours until dusk settled over the streets. At last, Liang Song spoke. "Go on, then. What is it?"
Having had his fill of the view, Liang Song turned his gaze toward Lin Zheyu.
He raised his cup and drained it in a single gulp, the fiery liquor searing down his throat into his stomach.
"Ahhh—"
Liang Song let out a sound of deep satisfaction, every bit the picture of unrestrained boldness.
"I am Lin Zheyu. I fled here as a refugee from Jiunan City, but was separated from my parents and clan along the road. Now I am alone in Songyi City with no one to rely on."
"When making one's way in the world alone without backing, one is easily bullied. I heard that your martial arts are formidable, and I wish to learn a martial art from you."
"Please instruct me, Master Liang!"
Lin Zheyu refilled Liang Song's cup and cupped his hands in earnest entreaty.
"Learning martial arts is bitter work—far more bitter than studying books. Your literary talent is quite good, so why not continue your studies and test for an imperial degree?" Liang Song remarked flatly.
"Great turmoil looms on the horizon. If one cannot even protect oneself, how could one study for examinations in peace?" Lin Zheyu shook his head.
Liang Song sized Lin Zheyu up and down, then shook his head slightly.
"It's not that I can't teach you, but you are already grown. It is a bit late to begin martial arts now."
"In the martial path, externally you temper the sinews, bones, and skin; internally you temper a breath of qi."
"The tempering of sinews, bones, and skin must be seized from childhood, and it places very high demands on the body's latent aptitude. One must soak in medicinal baths from an early age to forge the sinews and bones and lay a proper foundation."
"Once you are older, your frame has developed and the skeleton is set. Forging your sinews and bones becomes more than a hundred times harder, and a single slip-up can leave behind hidden ailments."
Liang Song continued, "Beginning your martial training now will yield half the result for twice the effort. In all likelihood, you won't amount to much. Are you sure you still want to learn?"
"That doesn't matter. I am not afraid of hardship, and I can endure great bitterness. As long as I can practice martial arts, that is enough!" Lin Zheyu answered in a rush.
"Well, I have nothing better to do anyway, so I might as well teach you a bit."
"I am quite fond of that Yan Chixia character you talk about. Tell more stories about men like him in the future," Liang Song said with a chuckle.
"Certainly, thank you, Master Liang!"
"I'll write a story specially for you hereafter!"
Lin Zheyu was overjoyed.
With a broad wave of his hand, he called the waiter over and ordered several more dishes.
"Now that you've said your piece, get moving. Don't sit across from me being an eyesore. Come find me tomorrow morning at No. 33 Jindong Street."
Liang Song waved him off as though shooing away a fly.
"Understood. I won't disturb your leisure any longer, Master Liang. Please enjoy your meal!"
Lin Zheyu rose to his feet.
Turning around, he pumped his fist in excitement, his face beaming with delight.
Things had gone far smoother than anticipated. Master Liang had agreed without hesitation and had not even brought up silver.
Then again, it made sense.
Liang Song was a generous patron who frequently tipped Lin Zheyu, tossing out more than twenty copper coins at a time. He surely was not hurting for money.
...
On the way home, Lin Zheyu bought some meat and vegetables to nourish his body properly.
When he had lived in Baishan District, he had not dared to buy much meat or produce for fear of being targeted by thieves.
This time, Lin Zheyu bought half a jin of pork belly, intending to braise it at home. It had been a long time since he had eaten braised pork.
*Slurp—*
The next morning.
At the crack of dawn, Lin Zheyu awoke early.
After moving to his new home, he had discovered that the rooster kept by his neighbors had ruined its throat. Its crowing was hoarse and grating, lacking the clear, ringing tone of other roosters, and made for rather unpleasant listening.
He washed up, then ate a hearty breakfast of thin porridge paired with the braised pork cooked the night before.
He was to begin practicing martial arts today, so he had to ensure his body had sufficient nourishment.
Having endured starvation and exposure to the elements, this body remained extremely frail, so emaciated that it was almost skin and bones.
Over the past dozen days, his storytelling had earned him good money, and he had been willing to spend on proper food, allowing his health to recover somewhat.
Even so, he was still weak; after running just a few li, he would have to stop and rest.
Changing into tight-fitting attire suited for martial training and tying up his long hair, Lin Zheyu looked remarkably brisk and capable, shedding much of his usual scholarly demeanor.
Stepping out the door, he found a good number of pedestrians already on the road.
Because there was little in the way of entertainment, people in this world went to bed early and rose early.
When Lin Zheyu first arrived, he had found it difficult to adapt. But after a few days, sheer boredom drove him to bed early every night.
The troubles of his past life—insomnia every night and exhaustion at work every day—had completely vanished.
He had truly formed the fine habit of sleeping early and rising early.
Chapter 3