The Storyteller from Afar

Ka-ka!

Zheng De wanted to scream, but it was as if an invisible hand was gripping his throat, leaving him only able to produce guttural "ka-ka" sounds.

At that moment, Tan Bing, who had been facing away, turned to him and asked, "Husband, what's wrong?"

Seeing his wife's face—devoid of all features—Zheng De's vision went dark, and he collapsed.

Gasp!

Sitting upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat, Zheng De realized it had only been a nightmare.

Turning to look at his peacefully sleeping wife, he couldn't help but feel lingering fear. Slowly, he shifted his gaze to her face. Only after confirming that her facial features were intact did he let out a long sigh of relief. He carefully got out of bed, walked to the table, and gulped down a mouthful of cold water from the teapot.

With the cool water soothing his throat, Zheng De, now more composed, dressed himself and walked to the bedside. In a soft voice, he said to Tan Bing, "Dear, I'm heading out to listen to some storytelling."

"Mm," she mumbled, turning slightly and waving her hand, signaling him not to disturb her rest.

Stepping out of the house, Zheng De headed straight to his usual teahouse. After paying ten copper coins for tea, he found a seat in a quiet corner.

"Ah, Shopkeeper Zheng! You're late today!" greeted a man in his early thirties. His skin was dark, earning him the nickname Ah Hei.

Zheng De glanced at him and chuckled. "So what if I'm late? These storytellers only have a few tales in rotation. I've heard them so many times I could recite them backward."

"Hey, hey, hey! Today's different!"

"This storyteller is from Gucheng County."

"And he's telling ghost stories—so vivid it feels real!"

Hearing this, Zheng De shivered on the spot. Having just woken from an incredibly lifelike nightmare, he had come here hoping for a lighthearted tale to ease his nerves. Instead, today's topic turned out to be ghost stories?

He thought about leaving, but just as he started to rise, he sat back down.

The tea fee was non-refundable. If he left, those ten copper coins would be wasted!

"Wait, you're not scared, are you?" Ah Hei asked with a sly grin.

Zheng De rolled his eyes. "Ha! When have I, your Brother Zheng, ever been scared?"

Bang!

Ah Hei stood up and moved to Zheng De's table, grumbling, "Brother Zheng, as long as you're not scared, that's fine. Let's sit together. Just now, I was alone, and the story nearly scared me into wetting myself!"

"Is it that bad?" Zheng De swallowed hard, his back suddenly feeling cold as he rubbed his neck.

Rolling up his sleeve, Ah Hei raised his arm. "Look at these goosebumps—does it look like I'm lying?"

Zheng De picked up the tea the waiter had just brought over and asked, "What's the story about?"

"The Faceless Demon!" Ah Hei said, rubbing his hands together.

Pfft!

The moment Zheng De heard those words, he sprayed out the tea he had just taken a sip of, drenching Ah Hei, who was sitting beside him.

Wiping his face with his sleeve, Ah Hei's mouth twitched. "Brother Zheng, what was that for?"

Embarrassed, Zheng De laughed. "I… choked…"

Bang!

From behind the screen at the front of the teahouse, the storyteller struck his clapperboard, and the room instantly fell silent.

A visibly trembling Ah Hei grabbed Zheng De's arm.

To his astonishment, he realized that Zheng De was shaking even more than he was…

…

"Ah Hei…"

"Stop shaking…"

Zheng De's pale face and trembling voice betrayed his fear.

Beside him, a sweat-drenched Ah Hei wiped his face and muttered in shock, "Brother Zheng, it's you who's shaking!"

"Nonsense!" Zheng De yanked Ah Hei's hand off his arm, only to realize that he was trembling even harder than before.

"Oh no!"

"Brother Zheng, are you having a seizure or something?"

As he spoke, Ah Hei pulled half a steamed bun from inside his shirt and held it to Zheng De's mouth. "Bite down on this, so you don't end up biting your tongue!"

"Get that away!" Zheng De pushed the bun aside, wrinkling his nose at its sweaty, sour smell. Spitting furiously, he snapped, "Your bun's gone bad! It reeks of dishwater!"

Hearing this, Ah Hei grinned sheepishly, tucking the bun back into his shirt. "Well, I was saving it to feed my dog, Er Huang, anyway. What's the harm if it's a little spoiled?"

"Enough, enough!" Zheng De glared at him and said seriously, "Ah Hei, do you think dreams can really come true?"

"Dreams?" Ah Hei frowned. "That depends—was it a dream of riches or… a spring dream?"

"What do you mean?" Zheng De asked.

With a mischievous grin, Ah Hei explained, "If it's a dream about getting rich, you wake up and find nothing's changed. But if it's… a spring dream, well, at the very least, you'll need to change your bedding."

"Get lost!"

"I knew you couldn't say anything decent," Zheng De snapped, waving him off impatiently.

As the sky darkened, the scene from his dream surfaced in Zheng De's mind again, sending a shiver down his spine. Ignoring Ah Hei's chatter behind him, he quickened his pace and headed home.

...

"Dad! Come out and eat already! Master Gu has been waiting for ages!" Zhao Liu stood with one hand on her hip, the other knocking loudly on the wooden door.

Inside, the sounds of clattering and banging continued. Clearly annoyed by his daughter's nagging, the muffled voice of Carpenter Zhao responded, "Just leave me some food. I'm still working!"

Hearing this, Zhao Liu turned to Gu Ning'an behind her with a helpless look. "Forget this stubborn old man. Let's eat first."

Gu Ning'an smiled and shook his head. "Carpenter Zhao is working tirelessly on my wooden sword. How can I, a mere guest, justify eating before him?"

Zhao Liu hesitated. Her father's stubbornness surpassed even that of an ox. Waiting for him to come out for dinner might take forever.

"I'll go in and take a look," Gu Ning'an said as he approached the door. Knocking gently, he called out, "Master Zhao, may I come in to take a look?"

At this, the clattering inside abruptly stopped. After a long silence, Carpenter Zhao replied, "Master Gu, when I'm working, I prefer to be alone."

Smiling, Gu Ning'an retorted, "What's this? Your client can't even come in to make some requests? Or are you afraid you won't be able to meet my expectations?"

Clack. Creak.

The sound of the latch being undone and the door hinges turning came one after another.

Standing in the doorway, Carpenter Zhao, his eyes bright and his body dusted with wood shavings, pointed a hand clutching a wood file and said, "Come in, sir, please!"

Dealing with people takes a tailored approach… Before stepping inside, Gu Ning'an glanced back at Zhao Liu and said, "If the food gets cold, could you heat it up? We'll come out to eat soon."

Both Carpenter Zhao and Zhao Liu heard him. Carpenter Zhao initially wanted to refuse food altogether, but the words stuck in his throat.

Though puzzled, Zhao Liu trusted Gu Ning'an. Smiling, she replied, "Alright, I'll go warm it up now!"

Inside the workshop, as Gu Ning'an followed Carpenter Zhao in, the sight before him made it clear why the old craftsman had struggled so long to make a proper wooden sword…