Chapter Thirty-Six: The Grand Ceremony of the Alliance of Five Nations (Part Sixteen)

"Clack." The storyteller struck the awakening block, and began his tale with gentle eloquence:

"In that haunted city, there lived a Mr. Zuo—fair-skinned and handsome, untouched by powder or rouge. Deeply learned and skilled in medicine, his mastery shone in every game of chess, whether black or white. He would brew century-old Dragon Well tea in a jade cup, and his brushwork could paint a soul into a portrait. No one knew his true name or lineage; he was simply called Mr. Zuo, for he did everything—brewing tea, playing chess—with his left hand..."

"Fair-skinned and handsome, untouched by powder? Is that what I am?" Changsun Chengmin asked, covering his thin lips with an open fan.

"Shameless."

The two quietly drank wine and ate their dishes, while the storyteller took on all the roles with ease: "A peerless beauty approached him, bowing gracefully with all the charm of a gentlewoman. 'I've heard, sir, that you can do anything. I have come to seek your guidance. Please, do not withhold your wisdom.'

"Mr. Zuo laughed lightly, offering her the freshly brewed tea. 'Let others speak nonsense if they wish, but how could you be so unruly?'

"'Nonsense? It's plainly the truth! And how am I unruly?' The beauty glanced at him, then looked away.

"'They say you're leaving for the capital?' Mr. Zuo sipped his tea, looking at her, his eyes tinged with resignation.

"'Yes, tomorrow. Will you... come to see me off?'

"'After knowing each other, it is only right to see you off.'

"'Good.' With that, the beauty stood and left.

"After a few steps, she turned back and called, 'Mr. Zuo.' Their gazes met, but their expressions were unreadable.

"It is said the beauty and Mr. Zuo had known each other in the haunted city for more than six years. Her affection for him was obvious—open and without any need for concealment."

"Forgive me, let me have a sip of tea and rest for a moment. My throat is dry." The storyteller apologized to the audience, then sat and drank his tea.

Su Qingfeng suddenly put down his chopsticks. "Isn't this story about the Third Princess and our Pavilion Master?"

"Which Third Princess?" Chengmin also set his chopsticks aside.

"How many Third Princesses are there among the five kingdoms?" Sometimes, Su Qingfeng truly thought Chengmin was a fool.

With Su Qingfeng's reminder, Changsun Chengmin finally understood. "Come to think of it, it really does sound like them. But how did these two end up in a story?"

Su Qingfeng smiled bitterly, withdrawing his gaze from the storyteller, pouring himself a drink. "The Third Princess loves openly and boldly; the Pavilion Master remains calm and keeps his distance."

"Oh, Qingfeng, suddenly so sentimental?" Though Chengmin agreed with him, the mood was too somber and needed lightening.

"Let us continue," the storyteller, now refreshed, resumed: "Mr. Zuo's attendant, looking concerned, asked, 'Sir, Miss Ye leaves tomorrow. Won't you confess your feelings?'

"'Everything in this world has its own fate. If she must leave, how can I stop her?'

"'Miss Ye likes you so much. If you ask her to stay, she surely would.'

"'Take the Red Bright Pearl from the Thousand Bead Pavilion and give it to Miss Ye.'

"The next morning, at dawn, the attendant entered Mr. Zuo's room. 'Sir, it's time to see Miss Ye off.'

"Mr. Zuo gently closed his book.

"'Sir, you always pretend and are so timid. You like Miss Ye but dare not say so, and when she's about to leave you won't try to keep her.'

"'Would you like to know what it's like to lose your tongue?'

"'No, no! Sir, I'll go prepare your horse.' The attendant ran out, terrified. His master was hardly a kind-hearted man—best not to provoke him.

"The more knowledgeable a person is, the more cautious they become. Why not just say you like her instead of keeping it bottled up?" a guest asked.

"You must never have met someone you truly love, or you'd be even more reserved than Mr. Zuo," the storyteller teased.

The guest blushed. "Go away!"

The laughter echoed through the tavern, the storyteller taking the opportunity for another sip of tea.

"What happened next, sir? Please continue," Su Qingfeng prompted once the laughter had died down.

"Very well, let's go on."

The storyteller's voice changed as he narrated: "At the ferry, the beauty and her brother waited for Mr. Zuo.

"The beauty looked ahead. 'Brother, do you think he'll come?'

"'Hard to say. He's the richest man in the haunted city, with thousands of acres and untold wealth, a handsome man accomplished in both arts and arms. Sister, look at yourself; the chances he'll come to see you off aren't great.' Her brother replied with grave seriousness.

"'Are you really my brother?' she retorted.

"As the siblings bickered, a hearty laugh sounded, and the beauty rushed forward.

"'I thought you wouldn't come,' she said, tilting her head in annoyance.

"A gentleman keeps his word. How could I not come?" Mr. Zuo replied, tapping her head with his folded fan.

"The pearl you sent yesterday—I like it very much. But my brother says it's priceless. Is it true?"

"It's just a trinket, something to admire. It's not worth that much," Mr. Zuo replied.

At this, Miss Ye's brother could not contain himself—his eyes nearly popped out. "My sister is young and ignorant, unfamiliar with such treasures. This pearl is blood-red and dazzling, as though filled with human blood, yet transparent as jade, with blue and red hues that shift. It is rare throughout history... If the Jade of He is priceless, this pearl could buy fifty cities."

The beauty was astonished, never imagining it could be so valuable.

"Brother Ye has a discerning eye. This pearl is but a token of my bond with Miss Ye, regardless of its worth. It is late—you should set out."

"Ye thanks Mr. Zuo for his generous gift of the Red Bright Pearl." With a bow, her brother led her onto the boat.

When the beauty looked back, Mr. Zuo saw her tears streaming like rain, yet he remained unmoved.

"Sir, let's go back. Miss Ye is far gone," the attendant said helplessly.

"Let her go a little further. After this parting, there will be no reunion."

"If you can't bear it, you could bring her back. Look how much she's crying," the attendant said, puzzled. His master was more dignified than the emperor, yet could not bring himself to love Miss Ye.

"There are good people waiting for her in the capital."

Three years later.

When the beauty returned to the haunted city, she never saw Mr. Zuo again. His mansion had vanished, and the neighbors claimed there had never been a Mr. Zuo—everyone seemed to have forgotten him.

Later, whenever she spoke to her descendants of Mr. Zuo, she would weep like a child.

With another strike of the awakening block, the story ended, and the storyteller took his block to the kitchen.

"These days storytellers only tell tales of romance... And the worst part is, people love to hear them," Su Qingfeng sighed.

Changsun Chengmin closed his fan and recited: "The folded fan closes as the story ends—truth or falsehood, who can say?" Then he smiled and said to Su Qingfeng, "We've drunk the wine and heard the tale. Let's go home."