Chapter 55: The Charm of Legends and Rumors

Realizing that a cultured scholar like himself could not reason with such a vulgar ruffian, the young scholar turned his attention to the easily swayed audience listening to the storytelling. "Even if we assume this matter was indeed the doing of Lord Luo, the Minister of War, so what? Has his action harmed a hair on our heads? They were merely the lives of a few lowly maidservants—how could they possibly compare to the millions of people in Nanjiang, or the common folk being exploited and trampled underfoot amidst such rampant corruption?"

As he placed food onto Luo Yunyao's plate, Qin Jinghao gave her a half-amused, half-mocking glance and remarked, "I didn't expect you to be so well-liked."

Luo Yunyao seemed to be listening intently to the scholar's words, yet also preoccupied with other thoughts. She merely cast a fleeting glance in response to Qin Jinghao's praise.

Unfazed, Qin Jinghao continued, "That scholar has a sharp tongue and a knack for manipulating public sentiment. He's quite reminiscent of your style."

Deep in thought and contemplation, Luo Yunyao replied to him after a moment, "He is clever, certainly, but somewhat extreme, and far too casual with human life." This assessment of the scholar stemmed from her usual habit of judging people and putting them to use. Her gaze lingered thoughtfully on the scholar for a moment before she suddenly remembered something. Turning her head, she feigned anger and asked Qin Jinghao, "Whose bad traits was the Great General Qin talking about just now? Whose style is he reminiscent of?"

Although Qin Jinghao's words sounded like a compliment no matter how one interpreted them, Luo Yunyao could clearly perceive the trace of mockery underlying his tone.

Amused by her reaction, Qin Jinghao chuckled softly, shook his head, and remained silent.

As the saying goes, ginger grows hotter the older it gets. Seeing that the two factions were on the verge of a quarrel and that the emotions of the crowd had been thoroughly stirred, the veteran storyteller calmly brought his clapper down onto the table with a sharp crack.

The noisy chatter ceased instantly, and the storyteller successfully recaptured the attention of everyone present.

Silence descended upon the room.

The veteran storyteller cleared his throat loudly and continued, "That newly minted top scholar, Lord Luo the Minister of War, is a youth of striking appearance. Many of his past exploits have already been recounted to exhaustion; for this old man to repeat them would be my own fault. Let us follow the suggestion of this gentleman here, and I shall instead relate to you all what has transpired recently—matters that have captured the concern of the entire imperial capital."

Seeing that the daily repetitive topic had finally changed, the crowd broke into loud murmurs of approval, shouting, "Good!"

Luo Yunyao could not help but hold her breath, listening with bated breath and a fluttering heart as the storyteller pressed on.

"It is said that on that day, the wind stretched across the myriad miles, and the sky was draped in blue silk. Princess Yue and the Crown Prince paid a visit to the estate of Great General Qin. The Great General naturally rushed out to welcome them. For reasons unknown, Minister Luo did not go out to greet them. It was only when these three esteemed personages went in search of Lord Luo, the Minister of War, that they heard a piercing female scream—'Ah!' Entering their line of sight was Minister Luo, standing there with an expression of utter disbelief, shock, and panic. And then came a sky full of crimson, a shower of red, soul-stirring to behold. It was the blood of that very maidservant, who had dashed her head against the wall!"

The moment these words were spoken, gasps of astonishment rippled through the hall. Although most of them had already heard whispers of the incident, hearing it recounted by the veteran storyteller lent it a distinct and captivating flavor.

Luo Yunyao listened, blinking as if unable to comprehend it, and turned her head to look at Qin Jinghao with a wry, helpless expression.

Qin Jinghao's expression, however, turned slightly dark. He said coldly, "What a clever and formidable storyteller."

Luo Yunyao quickly picked up a chicken leg and placed it in his bowl, hoping to forestall the Great General's anger and encourage him to keep listening. Glancing around to ensure no one was paying attention, she lowered her voice and said to him, "Don't be so impatient. Isn't it fine to just listen to a local folktale and keep up with the trends of the times?"

The Great General replied with an icy glare directed at the Minister of War; he disdained keeping up with such vulgar trends.

Undeterred by the look and the implication that she was vulgar, Luo Yunyao continued to smile and serve food to Qin Jinghao, her actions tinged with a flattering coyness.

The old man allowed the audience ample time to discuss and debate among themselves. Once the noise had subsided, he struck his clapper once more, drawing everyone's attention back to himself.

"We all know what kind of figure Great General Qin is, do we not?" he asked, nodding and swaying his head as he answered his own question. "Like a bright moon and a gentle breeze, an immortal descended to the mortal realm. When such an incident occurred at his estate, he did not grow angry, and in the end, he even calmly put in a good word for Minister Luo."

In the audience, a few ardent admirers of Qin Jinghao immediately began to applaud in admiration. He was the great hero of their hearts. Others, driven by their adoration for Qin Jinghao, directed their scorn toward Luo Yunyao: "This Luo Yao is truly ungrateful! It was a waste for our Great General to treat him with such consideration!"

Listening to this, the corners of Luo Yunyao's mouth twitched uncontrollably. She could not resist offering her own reflection to Qin Jinghao: "I suppose I don't need to worry at all about you being pulled down from your pedestal—everyone is firmly convinced that you are a deity." She muttered softly, tinged with self-pity and mock regret, "When will I ever amass as many fans as Great General Qin? Oh, and they must be die-hard fans, obsessive fans at that!"

Quietly listening to Luo Yunyao's sarcastic praise and her references to origins unknown, Qin Jinghao raised his cup, took a sip of tea, and smiled without a word.

The storyteller naturally resumed his tale: "The future crown prince, as you all know, is likewise an elegant gentleman of noble character, known for his benevolence and thirst for talent. Thus, he intervened to protect Lord Luo, the Minister of War. However, being the future Son of Heaven who regards the common people as his own children, the Crown Prince could not simply let the suspicious death of a maidservant go unaddressed. During the early court session the following day, he laid the matter before His Majesty the Emperor. The Emperor was likewise incensed, torn between half-trusting Minister Luo and needing to provide justice for the deceased maidservant. Consequently, he ordered both the Dali Temple and the Ministry of Punishments to intervene and investigate the case, and had Lord Luo taken into custody at the Dali Temple's yamen to await interrogation and sentencing."

Since this lengthy sequence of events was entirely logical and lacked abrupt twists, the veteran storyteller delivered it at a measured yet steady pace with a gentle tone.

Everyone knew that the twists and turns ahead would undoubtedly be breathtaking and extraordinary. The crowd held their collective breath, waiting for the storyteller to reach the next part.

Displaying the consummate skill of a seasoned master of his craft, the old man raised his eyelids in an apparently casual gesture, observing the silent, eager anticipation of the audience. He drew in a deep breath, drawing out the suspense to its absolute limit.

"Yet, when the officials from the Dali Temple and the Ministry of Punishments searched the residence of Lord Luo, they discovered an object at the bottom of the well. That object was long and slender, exuding a pungent odor. Naturally curious, the bailiffs lowered a bucket down. The texture they encountered when it touched bottom was neither soft nor hard. They prodded and bumped the object with the wooden bucket, seeming to graze some part of it, or perhaps scraping against something. The bailiffs soon discovered that the water-drawing bucket could not scoop the object up. With a sense of regret, the bailiffs could only pull up half a bucket of water..."

The storyteller's voice grew lower and lower, forcing the audience to strain without daring to breathe, desperately catching the words he scattered into the air.

Though most of them already had an inkling of what had been found, hearing it articulated by the veteran storyteller lent it a chilling, suspenseful atmosphere entirely of its own.

"Clack!"

The sudden, sharp crack of wood colliding startled the entire audience, causing them to recoil, their eyes wide with lingering terror as they drew in ragged breaths.

"My esteemed patrons, guess what it was!" The storyteller played his part to the absolute hilt, determined to milk the suspense for all it was worth.

A few patrons who had been badly frightened by the storyteller and happened to have short tempers rebuked him loudly: "You old rascal, if you're going to tell a story, tell it properly! What is the point of keeping us in such agonizing suspense? Do you think this gentleman won't tip you?!"

Completely unruffled and showing not a shred of annoyance, the veteran storyteller bowed apologetically to the patrons present. "It was this old man's lapse in manners."

Those men had no use for his apologies; they simply waved their hands, urging him to get on with the story.

"That half-bucket of water was not our usual clear well water, but a faint reddish hue, as though human blood had been mixed into the well, utterly ruining the pristine water! Of course, that was not what caught the bailiffs' attention. When they saw the water that had been hauled up, their faces turned pale, and the man who operated the bucket dropped heavily onto his backside in fright. If you patrons ask this old man what was in there—"

The storyteller struck his clapper once more, but without pausing, he pressed his advantage while the audience was already on edge: "Floating atop the pale red well water was indeed a slender object, bleached white and swollen from being soaked in water. A layer of bloated white skin loosely draped over delicate finger joints, looking as though it could peel off at any moment, and marked with faint red blood vessels."

The storyteller paused, his turbid eyes slowly sweeping across every face in the audience, before slowly and deliberately revealing the climax: "That's right, it was a finger. The tender ring finger of a young and beautiful maiden. But that finger was truly a ghastly sight to behold. It was only then that those bailiffs realized the reddish tint was indeed blood, and the well contained nothing less than a female corpse! In the course of their careless prodding and scraping, the bailiffs had accidentally snapped off the maidservant's finger!"

"Blech!"

Someone vomited. Among the diners, those with weaker stomachs could no longer endure it and emptied their contents, their complexions turning as pale as the dead corpse in the tale.

Anxious, Qin Jinghao turned his head to look at Luo Yunyao, only to find the Minister of War eating with great relish, a chicken bone pinched between her fingers.

Under the Great General's concerned gaze, Lord Luo the Minister of War even smacked her lips over the chicken knuckle she was chewing.

The handsome, razor-sharp lips on the Great General's sculpted face twitched slightly.

While most of the patrons were directing sympathetic glances toward the person who had just vomited, a few carefree individuals, completely unbothered, simply urged the storyteller onward: "Whose corpse was it? Why did it appear in the Minister of War's residence? Old man, don't stop. Hurry up and tell us!"

With a trace of self-awareness, the storyteller withdrew his gaze, shook off his momentary uneasiness, and continued, "That female corpse was, naturally, a maidservant from the Minister of War's estate."