"What's all that commotion over there?"
Jiang Yan narrowed his eyes, curiosity flickering across his face.
Well—he had nothing better to do anyway.
Might as well go take a look.
With that thought, he made his way toward the crowd gathering a short distance away.
Before he even got close, the sound of lively chatter and cheers reached his ears.
"Bravo!"
"Master, one more story! Your tales are too good!"
"Now that's how a real story should sound!"
"Oh? Sounds interesting…" Jiang Yan thought, his curiosity piqued even further.
He squeezed and nudged his way through the crowd until he finally reached the front.
Everyone's attention was fixed on something in the center—they didn't even notice him slipping clOsial.
In the middle sat a middle-aged man with a neat mustache, clasping his hands in a polite bow to the gathered audience.
"Many thanks for your kind words, my good friends," the man said with a flourish.
"Allow me, then, to tell another tale!"
"This time, we shall speak of none other than—our Immortal Lord!"
Instantly, murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"The Immortal Lord? You mean our Wood Spirit Immortal Lord?"
"Who else could he mean? Of course it's him!"
"I don't care what it is—if it's about our Immortal Lord, I'm listening!"
"Truly! This storyteller has told several tales about him already—they're amazing! Wonder what he'll tell us this time?"
Hearing this, Jiang Yan's brow twitched.
Stories about me?
And not just one, but several?!
Huh???
He had only come over to watch the fun—
and somehow ended up listening to gossip about himself!
Now that was interesting.
Come to think of it… wasn't this what they called a "storyteller"?
Were storytellers already popular in this era?
Jiang Yan rubbed his chin thoughtfully—then shrugged.
Whatever. The people needed entertainment, didn't they?
Besides, he was a little curious himself.
What exactly were they saying about him?
As he and the townsfolk watched eagerly, the middle-aged storyteller cleared his throat and began:
"It is said that a hundred years ago, when the Lord of Geo and the Archon of Dust first joined forces—"
"At that time, Guili Plains had only just been founded. The land was besieged by countless demons: the Northern Chi Dragon, the God of Dreams—monsters of terrifying power!"
"To safeguard Guili's peace, the Wood Spirit Immortal offered counsel to the Geo Lord himself—to form the Liyue Millelith, to guard the four corners of the realm!"
"But the Chi Dragon soon rallied the demon hordes, marching southward to invade Guili!"
"By the Geo Lord's command, the Wood Spirit Immortal led ten thousand Liyue Millelith soldiers to the north—to meet the dragon's assault head-on!"
"It was the Liyue Millelith's first great battle—and the Wood Spirit Immortal's battle of renown!"
"The clash was fierce beyond compare—heavens darkened, sun and moon lost their light…"
Jiang Yan stood frozen, listening with rapt attention as the storyteller painted his deeds in grand, sweeping strokes.
Damn… this is making me fired up!
Wait—why am I getting fired up?
I was there!
At that moment, Jiang Yan finally understood why Morax, in the future, loved listening to storytellers so much.
It felt amazing.
Especially when the story was about you.
Wow… he hadn't even realized he was that awesome until he heard someone else say it out loud!
When the storyteller reached the part about him unleashing the Immortal Art — Wood Release: True Thousand-Armed Hands, the dramatization was so exaggerated that Jiang Yan nearly burst out laughing—
"Descending like a god of divine judgment, scourge of the mortal realm!"
So cool!
When the story ended, Jiang Yan was the first to clap, his applause loud and proud.
Well, of course he was—how could he not, when the story made him sound that impressive?
He lingered for a while longer, listening to a few more tales before finally taking his leave.
He was absolutely going to come back again.
Heh. So this is the joy Morax found in storytelling… hahaha!
As he strolled leisurely through the streets once more, Jiang Yan's thoughts drifted back to his earlier plan—
the formation of the Qixing and the Eight Gates.
Who would be fit to serve in such roles?
If he chose only mortals, they might lack the authority to convince others.
In this age where divine power reigned supreme, even the Liyue Qixing that Morax established in the future merely acted as extensions of his will.
But Jiang Yan wanted his Qixing to possess some measure of independence.
They needed to earn the people's respect—now, in this age of gods and demons.
If they were all immortals, though, then what would be the point of creating a Qixing at all?
"So it must be… a balance," Jiang Yan murmured, pacing the street with his head down.
Then suddenly, his eyes lit up.
He'd found a way.
A grin spread across his face as he turned on his heel and began striding quickly back toward the Administration Hall—
his mind is already spinning with ideas for the future of Liyue.
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