The Manager of the teahouse finally stepped forward.
He had been watching from the sidelines the whole time. Initially, when Quinn Ye wanted to take the stage, the Manager was scornful.
After all, he had watched Old Man Huang tell stories for years and knew his capabilities.
What could a young man possibly say?
He would surely embarrass himself.
But unexpectedly, the effect of Quinn's storytelling was devastatingly good.
He completely overshadowed Old Man Huang.
Looking at the guests clamoring for more, it was obvious how popular Quinn's story was.
Old Man Huang had never achieved such an effect.
The Manager couldn't sit still anymore. He hurried over to invite Quinn to become a long-term Storyteller at his teahouse.
Teahouses and Storytellers were like fish and water.
If a teahouse wanted booming business, securing a good Storyteller was a very effective strategy.
Quinn shook his head.
"I am not a Storyteller. If you want to listen to stories, let that old gentleman continue."
With that, Quinn walked off the stage in a cool, carefree manner.
Old Man Huang felt ashamed enough to crawl into a hole.
He knew very well that even if he went back on stage now, no one would want to listen to him.
The story of The Legend of the Condor Heroes was just too immersive.
His own outdated stories couldn't compare at all.
"Old sir, I made a fool of myself just now," Quinn said politely, bowing to Old Man Huang.
He didn't want to bully anyone.
He just got a bit competitive earlier, which was why he went up to speak.
Now that he had proven his point, he naturally wouldn't push it further or make the old man lose his livelihood.
After all, Old Man Huang relied on storytelling to put food on the table.
It wasn't good to smash someone's rice bowl.
"Sigh. It is I who should apologize to you," Old Man Huang laughed bitterly and bowed back to Quinn.
Quinn quickly supported Old Man Huang's arms.
"Please, don't do that."
Old Man Huang sighed.
"I want to ask, Young Master... did you write The Legend of the Condor Heroes?"
Quinn smiled mysteriously.
"No."
"Oh? Then who is the author?"
Quinn's gaze turned distant and respectful.
"This story was written by an Old Mister Jin. He was a man of heavenly knowledge, an existence like a Literary Saint."
Old Man Huang was shocked.
A Literary Saint?
That implies a god-like existence!
"Where is this Old Mister Jin? This old man wishes to visit him."
Quinn shook his head.
"Old Mister Jin has long since passed away."
Old Man Huang looked regretful.
"That is truly a pity."
Quinn smiled. "Although Old Mister Jin has passed, he left countless magnificent stories for us descendants."
Old Man Huang looked around and saw everyone staring at them. He gave a wry smile.
"Young Master, you should go up and tell one more segment. Otherwise, these guests won't let you leave easily."
The guests were staring at Quinn intensely.
They looked like they wanted to tie Quinn to the stage.
Quinn felt helpless.
"Alright. I'll tell you one more segment."
Quinn took the stage again.
Before he even spoke, cheers erupted.
Old Man Huang sat below, looking expectant, eager to hear how the story would unfold.
Quinn continued telling The Legend of the Condor Heroes.
Everyone listened with rapt attention.
When Quinn reached the part where the Seven Freaks of Jiangnan finally recognized Guo Jing, the crowd cheered repeatedly.
And when they heard Guo Jing bending the bow to shoot the giant eagles and being titled the Golden Blade Prince Consort, they screamed in satisfaction.
The stories they used to hear never had such thrilling plots.
It was like discovering a whole new world.
Unknowingly, the entire teahouse became packed.
People even gathered outside the teahouse, listening to the voice coming from inside, completely entranced.
"That young nobleman, relying on his superior martial arts, took liberties with Mu Nianci. Mu Yi stepped forward to stop him, but was injured by the young nobleman instead."
"Seeing this from below the ring, Guo Jing was filled with righteous indignation. He stomped his foot, and with a body as light as a swallow, he leaped onto the ring!"
WHACK!!!
"If you want to know what happens next, please listen to the next chapter!"
Quinn stopped there.
He really couldn't talk anymore.
The sky was getting dark.
Without realizing it, he had been talking for most of the day.
His mouth was dry and his tongue was parched.
Fortunately, the Manager quickly served tea and snacks, allowing Quinn to catch his breath.
"Storytelling really isn't a job for ordinary people," Quinn muttered to himself while drinking water.
The crowd was still unsatisfied.
But they didn't demand Quinn to continue.
Having listened to stories all day, they were reasonably content.
"Young Master, will you come tomorrow?"
"If you come, I'll be here waiting at dawn!"
"You must come! Otherwise, I won't know how to sleep tonight!"
"I just want to know if that young nobleman is a descendant of the Yang Family!"
"If the descendants of the Guo and Yang families fight, who is stronger?"
...
Quinn laughed and cried at the same time.
If I come every day, won't I really become a Storyteller?
I don't rely on this for a living.
It was just a momentary whim.
"Everyone, I will not be coming tomorrow."
Hearing this, the crowd was disappointed.
"However, I will tell the entire story of The Legend of the Condor Heroes to Old Mister Huang. From then on, Old Mister Huang will continue to tell this story for everyone."
Hearing this, the crowd relaxed.
As long as they could keep hearing the story, it didn't matter who told it.
Old Man Huang froze, then looked at Quinn with emotion.
He didn't expect Quinn to be so generous as to give him the story of The Legend of the Condor Heroes.
"Thank you, Young Master!"
Old Man Huang bowed deeply.
"May I ask for Young Master's name?"
"My surname is Ye. Quinn Ye. I live on Cloud-Drifting Mountain."
Quinn replied.
"Young Master Ye, if you don't mind my old age, I would like to become 'friends despite the age gap' with you."
"That is my honor."
Quinn woke up the sleeping Big Fuzz and the Bald Rabbit, and led them out of the teahouse.
Just as he turned a corner.
Five people walked toward him, blocking his path.
The leader was a Young Nobleman. He had red lips, white teeth, and delicate features, holding a folding fan in his hand. He looked quite dashing.
Behind him were four burly men, seemingly his servants.
"Stop."
The Young Nobleman blocked Quinn.
Quinn looked at the stranger with confusion.
"Can I help you?"
The Young Nobleman smiled. "I like your story very much. Come back with me. I want you to finish telling all the stories immediately."
The tone was domineering, as if refusing was not an option.
Quinn stared at this "Young Nobleman."
"Miss, I don't think I know you. I have no time to accompany you."
The Young Nobleman froze.
"You... you can tell I am a woman disguised as a man?"
Quinn was speechless.
"Miss, if you want others not to notice..."
"At the very least, you should bind your chest a little tighter."