Wandering Gods of Day and Night-Chapter 62 - 59 The Second Incense

62: Chapter 59: The Second Incense

62 -59: The Second Incense

After lunch, Zhou Xuan returned to his room, closed his eyes, and meditated, immersing his mind into the Divine Revelation Secret Realm.

The splashing sound at the bow was not as loud as yesterday, indicating that the speed of the White Canopy Boat was slowing down.

Zhou Xuan still sat in the cabin, while the Paperman Boatman held the oar made of leg bones, fully exerting himself to push the boat.

He looked up and down at the boatman; just by looking at the figure, it indeed resembled himself a bit.

“Are you me?”

Zhou Xuan asked, his voice sounding awkward.

“No.”

The boatman, a paperman, spoke with an almost emotionless, cold and numb tone, and his speaking speed was slow.

“Then who are you?” Zhou Xuan asked.

“Master, I am your Dark Consciousness, as well as the second incense after your Divine Revelation!”

The boatman continued piloting the boat, his voice not very loud.

Upon hearing this, Zhou Xuan almost subconsciously looked at the first incense on the short wooden table in front of him.

The heart incense originally one foot tall, now after being lit, had burned down by half an inch.

However, the length of the incense seemed a bit longer than when it was first lit, visually.

Zhou Xuan thought of something, turned his head to look back, only to realize—not that the incense had grown, but his sitting position had moved closer to the heart incense.

Following the visual principle of “closer objects appear bigger and longer,” being closer made the incense appear longer.

Being closer to the incense meant being closer to the boatman too, so Zhou Xuan started to understand…

He repeatedly estimated the distance between himself and the boatman several times and reached a conclusion—the proportion of the burnt heart incense was proportional to the shortened distance between him and the boatman.

According to this pattern, once the first incense burned out, he and the Paperman Boatman would completely overlap.

At that moment of overlap, Zhou Xuan’s second incense was lit.

Zhou Xuan’s thoughts cleared, and sensing his perception, the boatman’s emotions suddenly surged.

He gripped the bone oar, opened his arms wide, standing at the bow like a human-shaped “big” character, like a devout follower calling out to his faith,

“Master, let your incense blaze more vigorously, bring me closer to you, even closer, and when you overlap with me, please devour me.

I will offer you the darkness sinking to the bottom and the rebirth after death!”

The opportunity for the second incense in the Secret Realm unexpectedly arrived ahead of time.

Zhou Xuan made up his mind to prioritize the gathering of incense as soon as possible.

Once enough incense is accumulated, immediately advance to the second incense!

…

A storyteller gathers incense by going on stage to tell stories; the more audience members present and the higher their liking, the more incense is gathered. freewēbnoveℓ.com

The Zhou Family’s Troupe already has a ready audience, no need for deliberate summoning; just shout with a megaphone in the courtyard, and people would come—would anyone refuse to face the Young Master telling the first story evaluation?

Zhou Xuan planned to set up a platform in the Zhou Family’s Troupe to tell stories.

But what to tell?

Firstly, traditional storytelling won’t work,

To excellently narrate traditional stories, one needs solid storytelling skills—skills that come from thousands of practices and having aged along with the stories, true mastery.

Even with Yuan Buyu’s personal guidance, it would be difficult to make a breakthrough in a short time.

If traditional storytelling doesn’t work, then he would write his own story.

The story he writes must also be carefully considered,

For instance, the recent story “Love in Lu Mountain” should absolutely not be used, since it is a romance movie with a slight bourgeois feel.

The economic conditions of the troupe’s senior brothers and masters are fairly comfortable, they might appreciate it, but the majority in the Zhou Family’s Troupe are apprentices.

They train and do chores all day, the labor is intense; by the evening, they are already exhausted, listening to something bourgeois would just put them to sleep.

They need something lively.

“The White-Browed Hero.”

Zhou Xuan has his story,

“The White-Browed Hero,” a novel written by the renowned storyteller Dan Tianfang, which has also been recorded as storytelling and adapted into a TV drama.

Zhou Xuan loved watching it as a child and revisited it many times as an adult, very familiar with it.

“This book has thrilling fights and memorable characters; just hearing nicknames like ‘Deaf Sky, Mute Earth’ and ‘Four Kings of Alcohol, Lust, Wealth, and Power’ sounds exciting.”

“This one.”

Zhou Xuan brought out his pen and paper, and started writing the Liangzi…

…

Before he knew it, dusk had fallen.

Zhou Xuan had written two and a half episodes of Liangzi, a bit short of his target of four episodes, but he already felt dizzy and swollen-headed.

I need a change of pace.

It was hot.

Zhou Xuan, who was shirtless inside the house, put on his shirt, tucked the gavel into his pocket, slipped the folded fan into his sleeve, and walked out.

The sunset clouds were fiery red, and Zhou Xuan felt good walking at ease in the yard, idly swinging his arms like an old man practicing boxing in the park, completely relaxed.

“Xuanzi.”

Upon hearing someone calling, Zhou Xuan turned his head and saw Yu Zhengyuan with three acting apprentices.

“Big Brother, where you headed?”

“To grab some food.”

“If you don’t eat in the cafeteria, Lao Yuan will have your heads!” Zhou Xuan said with a laugh.

“Lao Yuan can’t scold us, water’s been cut off since 2 PM and it’s still out, the cafeteria can’t cook.” Yu Zhengyuan explained.

The water supply in Ping Shui Prefecture was generally reliable, but the pipes frequently failed, especially in winter when they often burst.

The water company frequently posted “Water Cut-Off Notices” to households.

With over a hundred people in Zhou Family’s Troupe and only two wells, when there was a water cut-off, the laundry aunties would occupy the well, and kitchen workers fetching water would get scolded.

There was no choice.

With so many people sweating heavily during training and performances, all the dirty clothes were washed by the aunties.

If they were delayed by two or three hours, they would need to work overtime, washing clothes under the stars.

No one could stand it.

After Zhou Lingyi took charge, a rule was made: whenever there was a water cut-off, everyone would eat out; apprentices received 80 cents for meals, masters, and senior brothers got 1.60 each.

“Big Brother, what will you eat with 1.60?” Zhou Xuan asked.

“Either baked buns or mixed sauce noodles, will decide on the spot based on what I feel.”

Yu Zhengyuan gave Zhou Xuan a cigarette, saying, “Wanna join?”

“Let’s eat!”

Zhou Xuan lit the cigarette and followed Yu Zhengyuan and the three apprentices out of Zhou Family’s Troupe.

They crossed a small road, turned right, and walked about five or six hundred meters to reach Cotton Street, a well-known food street in the area packed with small eateries and snack stalls, though no big restaurants.

Yu Zhengyuan took the apprentices to buy baked buns and eat mixed sauce noodles, whereas Zhou Xuan went to an iced drink stall.

It was hot, and he felt like drinking some iced sour plum soup.

The stall owner took a clean glass, filled it up, and handed it to Zhou Xuan: “One fifty.”

After passing a Mao ticket, Zhou Xuan took the glass and stood by the stall to drink—it was the stall owner’s glass, not to be taken away.

Zhou Xuan took a big gulp first, the sour-sweetness with a touch of ice trickling down his throat, dispelling much of his exhaustion.

He paused for a while, waiting for the ice to wear off before taking a second sip.

As he lifted the glass, white noise came along.

“Shush-shush-shush”

Now Zhou Xuan knew that the white noise was also part of his spiritual trait.

As the side effects of his spiritual ability diminished these past days, the white noise became less bothersome.

“Snap-snap-snap.”

After a harsh buzzing of white noise, Zhou Xuan heard footsteps coming from behind him.

He slowly lowered his head and glanced backward to see a table placed by the roadside with three men eating beef noodles around it.

One of the men was eating with utmost focus, pinching garlic with the thumb and index finger of his left hand, and holding the bowl with both palms, alternating between a bite of garlic and a sip of soup, seemingly relishing his food.

But Zhou Xuan knew “relishing” was just his guise; despite the man’s seemingly kind and gentle appearance, his inner face could not escape Zhou’s Face Reading.

Zhou Xuan saw the man’s face—a fierce and evil spirit, the left side smeared with bloodstains as if sprayed on.

A fierce spirit following him, with reactions from the white noise, this man must be a Ghost among the kidnappers.

“A kidnapper’s man trailing me?!”

Zhou Xuan finished the sour plum soup in one gulp, bought a flatbread, and without waiting for Yu Zhengyuan and others, he headed back towards Zhou Family’s Troupe alone.

The “snap-snap-snap” of footsteps in his ears never stopped, always keeping a strong sense of distance, maintaining about ten meters from Zhou Xuan, neither closer nor farther…