Wandering Gods of Day and Night-Chapter 935 - 377: The Daoist Descends to the Mortal Realm (Part 2)
This book was written by Zhou Xuan. Compared with those great storytellers, the technique is lacking, but because he personally experienced the Xianhuo disaster, every pause and pitch in his narration is extremely full of emotion.
No technique, all emotion.
"In storytelling, too much technique can become tedious; perhaps the key lies in the simplicity and depth of emotion."
King Xishan gently shook his leg, resting his hand on his knee, lightly tapping along with Zhou Xuan’s rhythmic intonation.
A good book is like a song, with natural rhythm...
...
Under the Ancestor Tree of Zhou Family’s Troupe,
Sister Cui was already crying like a tearful mess. She never dared to hope that Hua Zi’s name could be considered the protagonist of a book by Zhou Xuan.
Hearing the book now, apart from being crazed with memories of her brother, she was more grateful to Zhou Xuan.
"Brother Zhou is a good person, really too good. Hua Zi didn’t die in vain. A few days before the incident, I asked him why he liked storytelling so much."
"Hua Zi told me he wanted to become a storyteller like Brother Zhou, delivering a story that earns thunderous applause. Today, though it’s not Hua Zi telling the story, him becoming the protagonist is no different from him telling it personally."
Zhou Lingyi consoled Sister Cui, saying, "Then you should listen carefully. With my perception as a Witch, I seem to sense Hua Zi’s aura, a wisp of soul, within the story I’m hearing."
"Sister Zhou, is it really true?"
"It’s not only true, but that wisp of spirit is also showing signs of growing stronger," Zhou Lingyi said.
"Then I must listen carefully."
Sister Cui forcibly wiped away her tears and fully immersed herself in listening to the story. With each word and sentence from Zhou Xuan, she seemed to see Hua Zi gently waving at her.
As Sister Cui was engrossed, Yuan Buyu quietly gave Zhou Lingyi a thumbs-up and whispered, "Master Zhou, when it comes to comforting people, you surely know how to comfort them."
"Comfort?"
"Weren’t you just saying good words to comfort Sister Cui?" Yuan Buyu said.
"Elder Yuan, you’ve misunderstood. I truly felt Mu Hua’s residual soul in the story."
"..." Yuan Buyu.
...
Zhou Xuan’s storytelling continued. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺
If this "Mingjiang Fire Record" used Zhou Xuan’s perspective, it would feature more of the day and night deity fighting against the Buddha Country, Star Covering, and Huangyuan Demon.
But now, using Mu Hua’s perspective, it focused more on the disasters and the experiences of ordinary people during the outbreak of the great fire and human nature’s arcs.
Zhou Xuan began narrating from the day the Xianhuo disaster descended.
The general content is about how that heaven-burning Xianhuo destroyed East Market Street, and how the people there united as one to escape to safety.
Within it, there is the deep sibling bond between Sister Cui and Mu Hua as they flee.
There is also Yun Ziliang, during the great fire, going all out to save his old card-playing friends,
And the person trapped under a collapsed wooden beam, who didn’t ask for help, but only hoped others would go to his house to save his elderly mother...
Zhou Xuan narrated all these matters almost in the calmest tone, sounding somewhat soft, yet it moved the audience below to tears.
East Market Street is just a microcosm of the Xianhuo disaster, and what happened there resonated with everyone.
Were they not like the people of East Market Street, in the disaster, demonstrating the most shining side of human nature for their family and friends?
"The people of East Market Street are all heroes."
"We are also heroes. When the fire came, I rushed into the fire to save my daughter and ended up with a lame leg."
"We are all heroes."
The common folk whispered among themselves, agreeing that Zhou Xuan’s book was indeed well told.
In the two-thousand-year history of Jing Country, there are countless widely circulated books, with characters like gifted scholars and beautiful women, wise rulers and virtuous ministers, and immortal herb gatherers, all like stars hanging far in the sky, making listeners wonder if they too could shine as brightly.
Yet after the wild imaginings, there is a feeling of emptiness.
All those who love to listen to stories wonder—can’t there be a book among the great stories of Jing Country that talks about us common folk?
Though small, the common folk also have grand actions in their daily lives, are they not worthy of appearing in a book?
With the release of "Mingjiang Fire Record," the thoughts and wishes of the common folk were fulfilled at this moment.
They—or people like them—appear in bold strokes in this great book.
They wished for some sort of device to record Zhou Xuan’s story, so they could listen to it again whenever they had time.
This listening would remind them of the sadness, bravery, and longing for family during the time of Xianhuo.
The book, bearing emotion, now tightly gripped everyone’s heart,
Countless wishes, above the audience’s heads, congealed into a majestic mountain.
This mountain’s momentum kept growing, becoming more majestic, more robust, rising from the ground, reaching towards the Prefecture City in the clouds.
"The Wish Power is finally rising, got to keep pushing it."
Zhou Xuan gripped the folded fan tightly in his hand, looking up at the mountain of Wish Power, getting closer and closer to that Prefecture City in the clouds... closer and closer...
...
Bang!
With anger, Bi Fang easily slapped a pillar of the "Bi Book Hall" grass cottage, breaking it.
The grass cottage collapsed, but fortunately, it was in Bi Fang’s Divine Country, filled with divine power, and within a few moments, it automatically repaired itself, once again becoming simple and serene.
The white-robed Daoist asked Bi Fang, "Sir, did Zhou Xuan play tricks again?"
