PNB Chapter 52 Master said to listen to storytelling
Chapter 52 Master said to listen to storytelling
As for Zhong Ming, he is currently fast asleep.
The man and the mouse were sleeping soundly.
Outside... there's a sign that says "Closed for Retreat".
Yue Kaishan came here only to be met with a cold shoulder, and before leaving, he banged his head a few times.
'How stupid of me! How could I forget that I need to stabilize my realm after just breaking through? Wait, didn't my cousin break through too? Right, right, our Yue family's cultivation method is special; Brother Cuihong still needs to rest.'
The burly man left dejectedly, and waited for seven hours.
By the time Zhong Ming stretched and went out, it was already past midnight.
He stepped out of the room, took a deep breath of the pure mine air, raised his eyebrows, and decided to go for a walk.
Jishui Mountain is so well-known as a mining site that people have forgotten it is a mountain, a scenic peak offering panoramic views of the Yangtze River at night and vast fields of fertile land.
Zhong Ming took a deep breath of fresh air, feeling refreshed and invigorated.
The moon was bright and the stars were few. The entire Jishui Mountain was divided in two by a line of brown railings. One half was quiet, with the occasional bird call and the rustling of the wind through the trees.
This is the mining area for cultivators. They are mostly deep underground and have no interest in the scenery that is of little use.
The other half was bustling with activity and brightly lit. It was the entrance to the mining area for ordinary people. There was no such thing as rest. They worked in three shifts day and night. Even in the early hours of the morning, there were chefs setting up stalls and busy cooking meals. The porters who came and went carried the supplies into the mechanical elevator and then carried the garbage out.
The sight of two dragons moving through the water was a disaster for the people living along the river, but for these ordinary miners, it was a blessing from heaven.
I'm getting more rest now.
Because cultivators can fly on the wind and carry supplies in storage bags, but who will send cultivators to move ores such as copper and iron?
It's a losing proposition; cultivators' time is precious, and their super-large storage bags are even more precious.
With the loss of the mortal transport force, the miners in the mine were "given" more rest time to prevent the mine's warehouses from overflowing.
Large numbers of criminals and debtors gathered in the square at the entrance to the mine, where the smell was even more disgusting than inside the mine.
But it also formed a small market.
The people who had come to take refuge were also bored, so they joined in the lively atmosphere, and the whole market became...
A large-scale feeding scene.
There was no other way; the government couldn't possibly put ordinary people and a group of criminal miners together, so they temporarily put up a barrier between them.
The two groups started doing business across the fence.
What do the miners have? Who knows? They might keep whatever strange or unusual things they find.
Their hard currency consisted of easily stored food rich in salt and oil, and rare tobacco. Refugees wouldn't mind taking the opportunity to exchange it for some rare minerals, such as jade and emeralds—they accepted everything.
The vendors spontaneously made way for their important strategic partners.
Zhong Ming stood halfway up the mountain and looked into the distance; several circles had appeared there.
Outside the circle were vendors, while inside was a group of people surrounding a monk who preached Buddhism, a Taoist priest who told fortunes and gave lectures, a comedian, and even a magician.
Suddenly, Zhong Ming remembered his master's instructions.
You can listen to storytelling more often when you have free time.
Well, after a careful search, he actually found one: a tall, thin, withered old man, wearing tattered clothes covered in patches and straw sandals that were almost worn out. His only possession was probably the folding fan in his hand.
He walks with a shaky gait, and people are afraid he might fall and die on the spot.
Cultivators always have special privileges; Zhong Ming only needed to say a word to obtain permission to enter the mortal area.
He lightly leaped through the mountains, overcoming obstacles like boulders, and jumped back down from the lush forest to the human world.
He slipped through the crowd and walked briskly along the railing.
He saw a miner holding a bag of salt aloft, like a victorious general walking against the current in the crowded throng, while refugees on the other side of the railing cursed loudly.
He saw someone holding up a strip of jerky, pointing it at one of the miners, and shouting that whoever knocked him over would receive this precious gift.
He saw someone mark out a field where several miners were wrestling, and a betting game had already started nearby, with miners and wealthy refugees acting as bookmakers, settling accounts in their respective hard currencies.
He heard someone cursing at him, and the vibrations from jumping on the railing knocked over something belonging to someone.
He heard someone advising him that walking on the guardrail would be punished by the immortal masters, and that if he was afraid of dying, he should come down quickly.
The world is so lively.
He leaped down and disappeared into the crowd of refugees, twisted the wrists of six thieves, helped up an old woman, exchanged copper coins for a straight, natural wooden stick, quietly slapped the buttocks of a burly man who sang terribly, and squeezed his way into the storyteller's circle.
"Hey, I was here first!"
"It doesn't matter what you say."
Zhong Ming squeezed past one of the people and then tossed a lot of copper coins to the storyteller.
"Sir/Madam, may I sit in the front row?"
Without waiting for his reply, she plopped down on the ground.
He missed the old storyteller's self-introduction and opening remarks, but fortunately he didn't miss the main part of the story.
"...All the gods and immortals gather at the wealth field, and kings and generals line up in front. Uncles and elders, please stop arguing. Younger brothers and sisters, please stop crying. I am old and frail and my voice is not loud enough. Too much noise will only disturb me. Let's put aside the troubles of the human world and ask you all to support me. Today, I will tell you the story of the great general Hong Rong's great battle against the celestial court in mythology."
The old man cleared his throat, and with a trembling hand, he snapped open his folding fan open, which then stopped wobbling and became incredibly steady.
"In ancient times, there was a great general of the human race named Hong Rong. He was highly respected and led the human race to live on the land of Shenzhou. From childhood, he absorbed the spiritual energy of heaven and earth and the essence of the sun and moon. He could be called the pride of heaven and a hero among men."
Originally, the land of China was blessed with favorable weather and abundant harvests year after year. Dragons leaped through the mountains and big fish swam in the water. What was that? Those were the good days when you could poke a stick into the sky and a fat chicken would fall down.
One day, lightning flashed and thunder roared, and a fierce wind arose. The lightning ignited the forest, the wind blew down the wheat fields, birds and beasts scattered and fled, and all the fish and shrimp disappeared.
The entire land of China was divided in two. One half was scorched by the sun, so dry that even the desert was considered a good place. The other half was hit by torrential rain, pouring down all night long. Dark clouds covered the land, and not a ray of sunlight could penetrate. People were oblivious to the difference between day and night and spring and autumn. They watched as the floodwaters rose up to the roof beams.
General Hong Rong also wanted to know what had happened. He spent three days and three nights climbing the highest peak in the Northwest and gazing into the distance.
Something happened in the east.
There is a parasol tree in the East Sea. That parasol tree is extraordinary. It is 3,333 feet tall, standing proudly, with a golden crow perched on it. It is the embodiment of the sun.
But whose territory is the East Sea? It's the Dragon King's territory.
General Hong Rong looked around and saw that the Dragon King and the three-legged golden crows in the east were fighting.
What does the Dragon King govern? He governs favorable weather, abundant harvests, and national peace and prosperity.
What does the three-legged golden crow govern? It governs the rising and setting of the sun, and the universal illumination of the earth.
When the two of them started fighting, it was a case of one side experiencing wind and rain while the other side was sunny; the sun sank into the East Sea, while the Dragon King was roasted on the sun.
Upon seeing this, General Hong Rong was furious!
Shouted loudly:
"To find out what happens next, those with money can support us financially, and those without money can simply show their support by being there..."