Chapter 316: In Guangzhou, Searching for Shu Yifan

Meanwhile, in the capital of Hanzhou, there was another tavern where a storyteller was recounting tales.

However, this storyteller was speaking about matters of the

jianghu

.

If you were to ask what the biggest news in the

jianghu

was recently, it wasn’t the new Great Liujiang Gathering but rather the emergence of the unparalleled swordsman, Shu Yifan, who had achieved enlightenment through martial arts.

The last time anyone in the

jianghu

had achieved enlightenment through martial arts was over a hundred years ago.

And how long ago was a hundred years?

Haha!

𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

For the common folk of the

jianghu

, a hundred years, five hundred years, or even a thousand years—there wasn’t much difference. After a few generations, while the legends of those grandmasters who achieved enlightenment through martial arts continued to circulate—stories of their incredible power, their ability to slay gods and demons alike—few truly knew what such a martial artist was really like.

Now, a new grandmaster of martial arts had appeared. And with him, a new legend of the

jianghu

was born.

“One year!

“In just one year, Shu Yifan traversed all of Guangzhou. As for the demons and monsters causing chaos there, it’s impossible to say they were completely eradicated, but at least eight out of ten fell beneath Shu Yifan’s Thunderstrike Sword!

“And why, you ask, would Shu Yifan undertake such a feat?

“If you knew where this Thunderstrike Swordmaster had been and what he had done before achieving enlightenment through martial arts, you’d understand where this habit of his comes from...

“It all began two years ago, during the demon infestation in Hezhou...”

The storyteller on stage delved into tales of Shu Yifan's deeds in Hezhou, back when he had already earned the title of “Swordmaster.”

The audience below listened attentively, with whispers spreading among them.

“You know, when it comes to storytelling, no one does it like Mr. Dong. When he wasn’t here and that other guy filled in, I couldn’t keep my eyes open no matter how hard I tried!”

“Exactly!”

“Mr. Dong’s talent runs in his family. Even if he were recounting how his neighbour next door, Mrs. Wang, washed rice and cooked dinner, I’d still find it entertaining.”

“Thank goodness Mr. Dong is back.”

“Speaking of which, have you all heard where Mr. Dong went during the second half of last year?”

“Ah!” Everyone’s curiosity was piqued, and they perked up immediately.

The group, though originally chatting casually while half-listening to the storyteller on stage, grew increasingly intrigued as their discussion progressed. Soon, everyone at the table leaned in, huddling together for a lively exchange.

“I heard that Mr. Dong went to Yuezhou, specifically to the northern part of it, in search of the legendary divine bird.”

“Really? Didn’t Yuezhou get completely wiped out by the northern frontier invaders over a decade ago? They say it’s overrun with demons now! Isn’t there even some so-called White Bull King raising humans as livestock there? Sounds made up.”

“Come on! Mr. Dong’s a professional storyteller; he’s got reliable sources! I heard the demons in Yuezhou were taken care of by the heavens a long time ago. That White Bull King? Supposedly killed by a divine immortal. Immortals live off incense offerings, do you think they’d let demons run amok for so long? If it wasn’t safe, would Mr. Dong dare to go?”

“He actually went?”

“I didn’t believe it at first either, but the way Mr. Dong tells it, it doesn’t sound fake.”

“Apparently, Mr. Dong is originally from Yuezhou. He fled here during the chaos over a decade ago, so he probably knows the area well.”

The group continued their lively discussion, fully engrossed. Nearby, others at neighboring tables couldn’t help but turn their attention toward them.

“Did Mr. Dong find the divine bird?”

“Word is, he saw it.”

“What does the divine bird look like?”

“How could I describe it? You’ll have to hear it from Mr. Dong himself—that’s when it really comes to life.”

“But didn’t Mr. Dong himself say that the northern part of Yuezhou is full of miasma? One breath can make you dizzy, and staying there too long makes you sick—not to mention how impossible it is to find your way. That’s what he used to say.”

“Mr. Dong must’ve had his own methods...”

“That makes sense!” said a bearded man. “I heard that Mr. Dong not only made thorough preparations before he left, but he also prepared himself for the possibility of never returning. And it seems he really almost didn’t make it back. He even had an incredible encounter!”

“What kind of encounter?”

“Just the other day, Mr. Dong retold the story. But you know, he doesn’t really like talking about his own experiences. Last time, it was only because we insisted that he shared it again,” said the man with the thin, pointed beard.

He added, “Apparently, after Mr. Dong entered the Qingtong Forest, he lost his way. On the winter solstice, after seeing the divine bird, a heavy snowstorm hit, and he was nearly frozen to death. In his dazed state, someone rescued him and even spoke to him. When he woke up, he found himself covered in deer fur. Later, he encountered a divine immortal. And guess which immortal it was?”

“Which one?”

“It was the one from the northern army!” the man exclaimed with great enthusiasm and excitement, his expression showing his belief in Mr. Dong’s story. “Last year, in the second half of the year, Mr. Dong put aside his work at the teahouse and set off for Yuezhou. At that time, news from the north hadn’t reached us yet, so of course, Mr. Dong didn’t know about that divine immortal.

“But from what I’ve heard, this immortal traveled from Changjing through Hezhou, Yanzhou, and to the borderlands, wandering along the way. That was after the war, wasn’t it? It seems that he had just traveled from Yanzhou to Yuezhou, and while he was there, he managed to rescue Mr. Dong and bring him back.”

“That incredible?”

Everyone at the table, as well as those at neighboring tables who hadn’t heard the story before, were shocked.

“According to Mr. Dong himself, when he was first rescued by the deer and then encountered the immortal, he thought it was just a dream in the final moments before he froze to death. Even after making it out of the Qingtong Forest and spending a long time crossing all of Yuezhou, eventually reaching Guangzhou, he still felt like he was in a daze, as if it were all a dream.

“It wasn’t until he returned to Yuezhou and met familiar faces, talking to them, that he finally felt as though he had truly woken up. He was stunned for a long time. Not long after, the teahouse owner came to invite him back to tell stories again.

“It was only then, while preparing to resume storytelling, that he heard the news from the north and realized the immortal who saved him was the very same one rumored to have helped the northern garrison eliminate the northern frontier demons.”

“This...”

The crowd exchanged glances, unsure what to believe.

Mr. Dong’s longtime patrons, while hesitant to outright accuse him of making it up, found the story hard to swallow. Even they couldn’t quite bring themselves to believe it.

It was likely a story made up by Mr. Dong.

First, to explain away his six-month disappearance, and second, to weave a tale that might attract even more listeners to his performances.

“Heh...” The man with the thin, pointed beard chuckled. “It’s hard to believe such things, of course. Listening to me tell it, you’d naturally think it’s fake. But if you were to hear Mr. Dong himself tell the story—well, even knowing how skilled he is in this craft, you’d probably still believe it’s true.

“Oh, by the way, I heard that not long ago, a scholar came to see Mr. Dong after hearing about him. He listened to the story for two full hours and found it so fascinating and extraordinary that he said he wanted to write it into a book!”

The crowd’s eyes widened further, their expressions caught somewhere between wonder and skepticism.

It wasn’t until a voice from the same table spoke up that the atmosphere shifted.

“Why should any of you argue over whether it’s true or not?” The speaker was a slightly chubby man with a full beard, who stroked it as he smiled. “If you ask me, part of what makes a story like this so entertaining lies in the very fact that its truth is hard to determine!”

“Exactly! That’s what the scholar in town said, too!”

“That’s reasonable...”

The group quickly chimed in with their agreement.

“But such tales of encountering immortals are truly delightful. Once Mr. Dong finishes his current story, we should ask him to tell that one again.”

“Yes, yes, absolutely...”

Right then, Mr. Dong on stage was wrapping up his tale:

“In the past, there was debate within the jianghu about whether Shu Yifan, with his Thunderstrike Sword, had truly achieved enlightenment through martial arts. But since this year’s Great Liujiang Gathering, where Shu Yifan appeared in person, it’s no longer a question. It’s now a fact!

“As of today, Shu Yifan has returned to Guangzhou and established his own sect on Mount Wu, naming it the Thunderstrike Sword Sect. Countless people were drawn to visit, captivated by its reputation!”

With a dramatic slap of the table, the storyteller concluded the segment.

The crowd paused for a moment, exchanging glances, then immediately began clamoring to ask Mr. Dong whether he had really gone to Yuezhou, seen the divine bird, and encountered an immortal.

Mr. Dong, looking embarrassed, answered honestly.

The crowd then pleaded for him to recount the story in full detail.

Mr. Dong felt genuinely awkward.

Though he came from a family of storytellers and was highly skilled in his craft, the stories he told had always been about other people. Now that he truly found himself caught up in a strange tale of his own, he felt embarrassed when numerous patrons clamored for him to tell his story as if it were one of his usual storytelling sessions.

If he had known this would happen, he wouldn’t have mentioned it at all. He would have kept it to himself.

Perhaps, when he had children or a disciple to inherit his craft, he might have shared the tale with them. Then, years later, they could retell it as a story about their father’s or master’s miraculous encounter.

“Mr. Dong...”

“Please, Mr. Dong, tell us quickly!”

“I’ll treat you to a bowl of the finest plum blossoms

official

tea[1]!”

“...”

Faced with their eager pleas, Dong Zhi’s expression was one of helplessness as he sighed inwardly.

Noticing his hesitation, the crowd grew even more enthusiastic, piling on their encouragement like fuel to a fire.

Just at that moment, Mr. Dong’s gaze drifted toward the street outside. Whatever he saw left him frozen in place, his eyes widening in disbelief. Suddenly, he bolted out of the teahouse, stumbling as he ran, even knocking over the teacups on the table. The cups shattered on the ground, tea splashing everywhere.

The crowd was stunned, not understanding what had happened.

Some stood up and peered outside.

In the distance, at the corner of the street, they caught a glimpse of a horse—its jujube-red flank visible for a moment—along with the faint edge of a Daoist robe fluttering in the breeze before disappearing from view. Trailing behind was a calico cat, paused at the roadside, sniffing at something on the ground. After seemingly losing interest, the cat bounded off to catch up with the others.

Mr. Dong, meanwhile, was like a man possessed, rushing toward the street.

Along the way, he collided with numerous people.

The teahouse patrons stared blankly, exchanging puzzled glances. A few, driven by curiosity, hurried after him.

Even the teahouse owner was left baffled.

About half an hour later, the people who had chased after Mr. Dong returned with him. Their expressions were varied—some confused, others contemplative. As for Mr. Dong, he looked utterly dazed and distraught.

When asked why he had acted so erratically, Mr. Dong, after a long silence, sighed deeply and explained that he thought he had just caught a glimpse of the immortal from his story. But by the time he saw him clearly, the figure had already crossed to the other side of the street, and he had immediately given chase.

His demeanor was so genuine that it didn’t seem like a fabrication.

The crowd quickly pressed him, “Did you catch up?”

“How could I possibly catch up...” Mr. Dong let out a long, weary sigh.

The crowd exchanged bewildered glances again.

The man with the thin, pointed beard stroked his chin and chuckled once more. “If that scholar in town heard about this, he’d probably add another chapter to the story.”

***

Leaving Changjing and Angzhou for Hezhou, Yanzhou, and Yuezhou felt like stepping out of civilization and into a realm of war and demons. Walking those roads, the Daoist sometimes recalled the bustling cities of Changjing and Yidu and found it hard to believe they belonged to the same world. But after passing through Zhaozhou and moving into Hanzhou, then Guangzhou, it felt like a journey back into civilization from the remote and desolate place.

The capital of Hanzhou, though not fully flourishing, already displayed some glimpses of prosperity.

However, rumors of the Daoist were widespread in the northern regions. The closer he got to Yanzhou and Hezhou, the more vivid and detailed the stories became, to the point where he hesitated to enter cities openly.

As he gradually left Hanzhou, the summer heat intensified.

The calico cat, walking alongside the Daoist, suddenly asked, “Are we in Guangzhou now?”

“You’re as sharp as ever.”

“Shu Yifan is in Guangzhou!”

“You have an impeccable photographic memory.”

“I heard it at a roadside tea stand.”

“Then it’s not photographic memory, but auditory memory.”

“Are we going to look for Shu Yifan?”

“Let’s pay him a visit.”

“Pay him a visit!”

The calico cat seemed quite pleased as well.

In this vast world, it was often too difficult to meet an old friend again after parting ways. Now that they knew the friend’s location and it happened to be along their route, it was only natural to take the opportunity to see him.

Since such meetings were rare, one should always give fate an extra chance.

1. Tea produced and distributed by the government or sold after paying taxes to the government was referred to as official tea (

guancha

). ☜