Chapter 421: Seeking Instant Fun

Three years had passed. Cao Fa now wore a beard, his face etched with hardship. The youthful innocence of earlier times was gone, and the cheerful smile he used to flash at everyone had vanished. He was Xiao’er (Waiter) no longer.

As for why he was here, Li Lao’er from the wine shop had mentioned it. After all, Cao Fa occasionally stopped by these days to buy a jug or two of wine. Since the incident with Third Master Jin, he just couldn’t quit the habit.

Before Cao Fa could speak, Chen Changsheng’s voice cut in: “Give me a hand.”

Cao Fa quickly stepped forward, helping Sir carry the peach wood and lifting the wine.

Chen Changsheng unlocked the door and entered.

Cao Fa followed closely behind. He saw Sir place the peaches from his pocket onto the table, finally settling everything.

Cao Fa set the peach wood and wine to one side.

He shook his sleeves, then faced Sir and offered a deep bow.

“Cao Fa pays his respects to Sir!”

Just as he was about to kneel, Chen Changsheng stopped him.

Chen Changsheng said, “None of these bows. I don’t care for such formalities. Find a chair and sit.”

Cao Fa chuckled and, without further fuss, took a seat.

He knew Sir had always disliked such rituals. He hadn’t expected that after all these years, that hadn’t changed a bit.

Once seated, Chen Changsheng handed him a peach.

Cao Fa asked, “Are these peaches grown by Miss Aqing from the Peach Grove?”

“You know Aqing?” Chen Changsheng inquired.

Cao Fa replied, “Last year, Miss Aqing was selling peaches from a street stall. When she saw me, she gave me one as a favor. It was only because she’s your disciple that I got to taste something so fine.”

“How come you still talk like a waiter?”

“Mr. Chen, I haven’t spoken like this in a couple of years. It’s only when I see you again. You’ve always been Sir. Before you, Cao Fa will always be Xiao’er.”

Chen Changsheng didn’t object. He knew Cao Fa’s nature; forbidding this would only make him uncomfortable.

Better to just go with it.

Then Chen Changsheng asked about Cao Fa’s time at the Teahouse these past years.

Back then, Chen Changsheng had only pointed him down the path. How his skills had developed since was unknown.

Cao Fa began recounting the events of the last three years.

He spoke of the great drought back then, the Righteous Army laying down arms, the affair with Third Master Jin, and his own first time stepping onto the stage in the bitter winter.

“Thanks to the copy of Liaozhai you left behind, business at the Teahouse was booming then. I didn’t embarrass you. My storytelling wasn’t bad.”

Chen Changsheng said, “You probably told it better than I did.”

Cao Fa quickly protested. “I’m far inferior to you, Mr. Chen.”

Chen Changsheng smiled. “You’ve been storytelling for over two years now. Surely you can tell good from bad? Back then, I was not even half-skilled, it was just that Liaozhai was something fresh to our listeners.”

Cao Fa shook his head. “Without you, Sir, the Cao Fa of today wouldn’t exist. When it comes to storytelling, I am simply no match for you.”

He could accept criticism about anyone else, but never about Mr. Chen. He didn’t even want Mr. Chen to speak poorly of himself.

His humility was genuine. He always remembered how he’d gone from a mere waiter to Master Cao, known throughout Qingshan City.

Chen Changsheng waved a hand dismissively. “If that’s how you want to think it, fine. I’ll just take the undeserved credit.”

Cao Fa laughed at this. “Sir, this time you’ve come back, will you tell stories at the Wine Tavern? Manager Zhuang also hopes you might take the stage. Some guests still remember you.”

“Aren’t you doing the storytelling now?”

“If Sir came back, I could finally take a break.”

“And what if I decided not to leave?”

“Then I’d go back to being a porter. Just like old times, nibbling on a baked pancake while listening to Sir tell his stories.”

“You…!”

“Please come back to the Teahouse to tell stories, Mr. Chen.”

Cao Fa clasped his hands and bowed his head. The earlier playfulness was gone; his words were earnest now.

Chen Changsheng shook his head. “No. Back then, I was just… seeking a bit of instant fun. Besides, the Teahouse doesn’t lack storytellers anymore.”

“Si…”

Cao Fa managed only the first syllable before Chen Changsheng cut him off.

Chen Changsheng asked, “What about Third Master Jin? Did he ever return?”

Cao Fa sighed inwardly and let the request to Sir drop.

He said, “Well… Third Master Jin himself didn’t return…”

“The way you say it… sounds like he sort of did and sort of didn’t.”

Cao Fa exhaled slowly. “At the time, I feared Third Master Jin might have been contemplating ending it. It’s also strange; I said some harsh words then. Otherwise, maybe he wouldn’t have left.”

“I felt guilty for a long time. Later, in the spring, a few Jianghu People came to the Teahouse. They brought a letter and some short writings. All handwritten by Third Master Jin.”

“That’s how I learned that after leaving Qingshan City, Third Master Jin had travelled with a merchant caravan to the coast.”

He had first gone aiming to find opportunities there. He’d heard you could earn good money as a pearl diver working with oysters. But the journey wasn’t easy. At a temple, he met Jianghu travelers who spoke of wild spirits and ghosts. Later, he even blundered into a Monster’s grotto-abode. It was all very strange along the way…

He eventually wrote down everything he’d seen and heard on that journey. His meagre funds went almost entirely on paper and ink.

Only as he neared the coast did he manage to entrust a letter, along with his written impressions of the road, to a few helpful Jianghu People travelling back towards Qingshan City.

“After that, every six months or so, a letter would arrive. Sometimes around early spring, sometimes near winter’s end. No set date.”

“Through the letters, I learned that Third Master Jin had mined a truly exceptional pearl from an oyster, making him a tidy sum. He then left the coast. He said he wanted to see the world, seeking traces of immortals, recording everything he witnessed.”

“Most of the stories I perform now come from Third Master Jin’s writings.”

“Though the letters keep coming… after all these years apart, we still haven’t seen Third Master Jin return.”

Chen Changsheng said, “Perhaps Third Master Jin’s aspiration lies in roaming the great rivers, the Jiangnan, the vast north?”

Cao Fa nodded. “That would be for the best.”

Chen Changsheng replied, “I find Third Master Jin’s adventures fascinating. I must go by the Teahouse soon to properly hear your performance of them.”

“Sir, please come anytime.”

Cao Fa lingered in the courtyard until late at night. The two conversed happily. If not for the late hour, he would have been reluctant to leave.

But there was regret, too. It lay mainly in Sir’s unwillingness to return to the storytelling stage.

Cao Fa had been looking forward to Sir’s return for so long.

But since Sir didn’t wish to, he couldn’t force it. To see Sir again was satisfaction enough.

…

The night was hazy. Moonlight spilled into the courtyard, as if cloaking it in crisp white linen.

After sitting idly in the yard a while longer, Chen Changsheng went out again.

Under cover of darkness, he left Qingshan City.

He carried only a gourd of peach wine. He intended this wine to pour in tribute for an old friend.

Who knew, after all these years, if anyone else had been visiting his grave?

He would go speak a few words. So his friend wouldn’t be too lonely.