IDWBE -Chapter 156 Telling Stories

“If you had any real skill, you wouldn’t just be standing guard at the gate.”

Sun Yi felt slighted, inwardly angry. That old coot—who knows, maybe there’ll come a time when you’ll be the one asking me for help.

“Next time you enter the gate, I won’t let you bask in the sun even a little. If that happens, my surname isn’t Sun!”

Once Shan Qi returned to the Administration Office, the first thing he did was issue a conscription order. Although there was no specific timeline set with the prince, it was unwise to keep delaying. At least they could recruit two thousand men for now.

Twelve thousand men—that was the absolute limit for Sanhe at the moment.

Even one thousand more would be unsustainable.

Sanhe’s finances were already stretched thin.

The most difficult task was still choosing He Jixiang, the head instructor for the garrison. It was really hard to pick someone suitable!

Hong Ying was unconscious, Ye Qiu injured, Bao Kui was being punished, Han Deqing and Shen Chu were occupied with the Bird Island festival, and Yu Xiaoshi was a lazy scatterbrain.

Shan Yin, being Shan Qi’s grandnephew, and Chen Xinluo, the deputy officer, were already in positions of influence, so they should avoid any appearance of favoritism. Not all authority could be piled onto them.

Xing Keshou remarked, “It’s a pity Mingyue and Zixia are women, otherwise they’d be perfect candidates.”

Chen Desheng replied, “Isn’t that obvious?”

Wang Qingbang suddenly said, “If it really doesn’t work, let Sun Yi handle it.”

Shan Qi frowned. “That kid is only fifth rank. How can he command respect?”

It would be better to just pick someone from the prince’s household who is sixth or seventh rank—they’d be stronger than this kid.

Wang Qingbang shook his head. “You’re mistaken. As far as I know, very few people fully understand the Huiyuan technique, and only a handful were personally taught by Hong Ying.”

He had spent most of his time raising pigeons at the prince’s mansion, so he naturally knew more than the other elders.

Most people, including the residents of Baiyun City, knew a bit of Huiyuan technique. But the ones who had the complete mastery? Only Mingyue, Zixia, Shen Chu, Sun Yi, Yu Xiaoshi, and Hong An—a mere few.

He Jixiang asked, “So what?”

Without Hong Ying’s permission, would these people dare to reveal the full technique on their own?

Wang Qingbang shook his head again. “You’re missing the point. Sun Yi has been personally instructed, so his understanding of the technique is naturally deeper than others. People like us only know part of it; how could we teach anyone else?”

“Exactly,”

Xing Keshou nodded. “Sun Yi may have limited talent, but his memory is good. Every move he performs is precise. Having him as the instructor might actually be better than the others.”

Shan Qi thought for a moment, then reluctantly said, “Fine, let him do it.”

This didn’t need to be told to Lin Yi. He sent Shan Yin directly to find Deputy Commander Ma Gui, who couldn’t help but sigh at how lucky that little brat Sun Yi was.

The happiest was Fang Pi. He had nothing in common with Sun Yi, and their conversations never clicked. So he enthusiastically recommended his good friend Cui Gengren to Ma Gui.

Ma Gui didn’t oppose it—after all, there was no better candidate. The palace guards certainly wouldn’t volunteer.

It wasn’t about money; it was about pride.

When people ask, “What’s your position?”

“Gate guard!”

It was humiliating.

The days were growing hotter.

Lin Yi had no mind for anything else. He dragged a chair to sit by Hong Ying’s side, occasionally dozing off, occasionally opening his eyes to check for any reaction.

After lunch, having slept a lot in the morning, he wasn’t sleepy.

He held a teacup and sighed at the sleeping Hong Ying.

“We’ve known each other for so many years. I call you my brother, yet I don’t even know what you like or what you’re fond of,”

Lin Yi sighed. “Sorry. I’ve neglected you and never paid attention to your feelings.”

“Prince, there’s no need to blame yourself,”

Xiao Xizi said with a smile. “Master said that being able to listen to your stories, and read your novels, is the greatest blessing of his life.”

“Oh, I’d almost forgotten,”

Lin Yi tapped his head. “He loves it when I tell stories the most.”

Xiao Xizi nodded. “Prince, he can almost recite some of your stories by heart now.”

“A damn genius,”

Lin Yi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He sighed. “Since he likes stories, I’ll specially tell him one. What story should I tell?”

Xiao Xizi said, “Master enjoys any story the prince tells.”

“Let me think.”

Lin Yi leaned back, pondering for a while.

‘Game of Thrones’? Too western fantasy; Hong Ying might not understand.

‘The Men in Black’? Sci-fi, even harder.

He remembered Hong Ying liked classical mythology.

Dongdu Ji and Ji Gong Quan Zhuan were too long.

Suddenly, inspiration struck—Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio (Liaozhai) was perfect!

Short stories one after another. Though he had told some before, they weren’t finished.

“I’ll continue with Liaozhai,”

“Brilliant, Prince!”

Xiao Xizi’s eyes lit up; he also liked Liaozhai.

“Have I told the story of ‘The Demolition Man’?” Lin Yi asked.

“Prince, yes.”

“What about ‘Yu Ziyou’?”

“Yes, you have.”

“Foreigners, Wang Shi, Young Master Wei?”

Lin Yi asked several in a row.

“All already told,” Xiao Xizi replied.

“What about ‘Wu Tong’?”

“Not yet.”

“Have you told ‘Bai Yu’?”

“Nope.”

“Good,”

Lin Yi nodded in satisfaction. “I’ll start with these two.”

“Yes.”

Xiao Xizi stood by, listening attentively.

“Let’s start with Bai Yu. Here’s the story: there was a man named Wu Qing’an, who was famous from a young age. Whenever Grand Historian Ge read his articles, he couldn’t help but praise them.”

Lin Yi spoke slowly, afraid that Hong Ying, lying there, wouldn’t hear.

A short story became a long one under his embellishment, taking him an hour and a half to finish.

Next, he told the story of Wu Tong.

After finishing, he felt hungry.

The sun had gradually begun to descend.

Lying under the grapevine, drinking tea, everything seemed tasteless.

Qi Peng pushed over a wheelchair. “Prince.”

Lin Yi asked, “What is it?”

Qi Peng poured tea for himself, took a sip, and said, “Confirmed. It is indeed Jing Kuan.”

Lin Yi snorted coldly. “The Jingzhao Hermitage takes such good care of Prince Yong! The head of the temple, and yet he’s running errands in Yuezhou?”

“It was Ye Qiu and Chief Guard Hong who chased him to Chuanzhou.”

Qi Peng spoke while watching Lin Yi’s reaction.

“Ye Qiu didn’t even tell me!”

Lin Yi jumped up angrily. “Bastard!”

Running onto someone else’s territory—what was that if not suicide?

If Ye Qiu weren’t injured, he’d have taught him a lesson.

“Apparently, Tang Que is the head of Jing Kuan’s nephew,” Qi Peng said. “Or maybe her son,”

Lin Yi speculated maliciously. “Who knows what schemes they have behind the scenes?”

“Brilliant, Prince!”

Qi Peng laughed.

“Hmm?”

Lin Yi frowned. “Did you guess right?”

“There’s a rumor in the Jianghu. Jing Kuan, when young, was a renowned female warrior,”

Qi Peng said with a smile. “She and Chu Baili, famed across seven states, were a pair of enviable lovers. Later, Chu Baili was killed, and Jing Kuan retreated from the world. It’s said she left a child before entering Jingzhao Hermitage. It could be Tang Que. But there’s also a rumor: the child died young, which led Jing Kuan to despair.”

“Whatever. It doesn’t concern us much,”

Lin Yi said irritably. “In any case, I’ll make sure these two people get what’s coming to them.”

“Prince,”

Qi Peng hesitated. “There’s one more thing. Not sure if I should mention it.”

“You decide,”

Lin Yi rolled his eyes.

“Yes,” Qi Peng finished his tea. “Shan Jin has pledged loyalty to the Crown Prince.”

“Shan Jin?”

Lin Yi wasn’t very familiar with him. “From the Shan family?”

“Exactly,”

Qi Peng said seriously. “Shan Jin is Shan Qi’s nephew, Shan Yin’s uncle, the Martial Champion of the 18th year of De Long, and the Commander of Chuanzhou.”

“Does Shan Qi know?”

Qi Peng shook his head. “No.”

“Hmph,”

Lin Yi laughed. “These old foxes, always with multiple contingencies.”

On second thought, it was quite normal.

Qi Peng asked, “Should we tell Master Shan?”

“Why not?”

Lin Yi laughed. “In life, it’s good to know where you stand.”