Good Night, Mr. Ghost - Chapter 95

Jiang Chenyi took a closer look and realized it was a map of Yanjing City. Though the lines were simple, the map clearly depicted the imperial palace, main roads, and various districts.

“What’s this?” Jiang Chenyi asked, a bit hesitant.

Maps weren’t something just anyone could possess.

The beggar glanced at the lines and said, “I measured it step by step and drew it myself. What can they do about it? I’m just a lowly beggar; they don’t have the time to bother with me.”

After pondering for a moment, he added, “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t know where to find those places. They’re well-hidden. I’ll take you there.”

“Alright, thank you, brother,” the young man replied politely.

Despite his rough manners, the beggar seemed like a decent person.

Treating a beggar with such respect, if only those other scoundrels had even a fraction of this man’s decency…

“Follow me,” the beggar said, picking up his iron bowl and heading into the city.

The two weaved through the bustling crowd.

After a series of twists and turns, they entered a narrow alley, circled around a few times, and arrived at a small courtyard with a sign that read “Wang Tavern.”

Jiang paused and said, “Brother, I’m looking for a place to stay.”

He really didn’t have extra money to spend on drinks.

The beggar snorted, “This is it! Come on in.”

He casually pushed the door open and called out, “Wang Dabao! I’ve brought you a guest!”

Inside was a three-story building, with bedding and clothes hanging in the courtyard.

It seemed to be an inn after all.

A burly man emerged from the building, beaming, “What?”

“A guest!” the beggar shouted.

Wang Dabao laughed, teasing, “A guest? Mu zili, you bringing me a guest? Probably just like you, huh?”

Mu zili scratched his head and stood up straight, “What are you talking about? I’ve brought you someone important!”

Jiang Chenyi stood awkwardly, maintaining a polite smile.

Wang Dabao noticed the young man in the blue robe and his expression changed to one of flattery, “A real guest, huh? Please come in, please! Are you here for a meal or to stay?”

Mu zili patted Jiang Chenyi on the shoulder, chuckling, “Don’t mind him. If Wang Dabao’s place doesn’t get more customers, it’ll go under.”

The innkeeper rolled his eyes, his face darkening, “What are you saying?! It’s you cursing me all the time!”

Jiang Chenyi watched the two, sensing they were on good terms.

Mu zili walked into the building, “Come on in. You won’t find a cheaper place in Yanjing.”

Wang Dabao led Jiang inside, “Mu zili’s right. Please, come in.”

Carrying his portable book case, Jiang felt a bit uneasy as he followed, “I’d like to stay. How much is it?”

Wang Dabao replied, “A room is seventy wen¹ per night, meals are extra.”

With only three hundred wen on him, Jiang nearly stumbled. He wiped the sweat from his face and asked, trembling, “How much?”

Mu zili, already seated inside, looked at the sweating young man and said, “Seventy wen a day. It’s really the cheapest place around. Those other inns outside charge at least two hundred wen a day.”

Jiang’s leg shook slightly.

He knew the expenses here were high, but he hadn’t expected them to be this steep.

Previously, he stayed at an inn where the storyteller was, and the boss didn’t charge him for the room.

Jiang patted his money pouch and, gritting his teeth, said, “What if I stay long-term?”

Wang Dabao looked at him, understanding that the young man was short on cash, and said, “If you stay for a month, I’ll charge you fifty wen a day.”

“Alright, can I pay on credit first?” Jiang Chenyi flashed a weak smile.

The innkeeper hesitated.

Mu zili chuckled softly, “Wang Dabao, I bet this kid will become wealthy and successful. Do you believe it?”

Wang Dabao wasn’t inclined to believe it.

But Mu zili had a mysterious aura about him.

Who could say for sure?

The innkeeper glanced at the young man and said, “Alright, I’ll let you stay on credit for ten days for both room and board. We’ll settle the bill after ten days.”

Jiang Chenyi was overjoyed, “Great, great! Thank you, Wang-Ge!”

He hadn’t expected to get ten days!

This was fantastic.

Mu zili looked at the cheerful licentiate and laughed, “You’ve never seen the world, have you?”

Jiang sheepishly scratched his head.

The beggar looked at him and asked, “You said you wanted to tell stories. Do you know where to do that?”

Jiang Chenyi paused, looking at his simple clothes, “I don’t know yet.”

Previously, he could tell stories in the tavern, but now, looking like this, it seemed unlikely he’d be allowed in.

He might get kicked out before he even got inside.

Mu zili eyed Jiang’s clothes and pondered, “Dabao, is that blue silk robe still around?”

Wang Dabao was taken aback, his expression odd, “That’s my sister’s clothing.”

“No worries, it’s not noticeable at first glance,” Mu zili tilted his head, his gaze distant, “Xiaomei isn’t here anymore anyway. Keeping it is just keeping it. Might as well help this kid out.”

Jiang: “Huh?”

Mu zili propped his foot on a bench, stroked his chin, and smiled at the bewildered young man, “Xiaomei was my wife; she passed away seven years ago.”

Jiang: “Oh! My condolences.”

He wanted to ask about the women’s clothing, but seeing the situation, it seemed better not to.

Wang Dabao also fell silent, looking at Jiang Chenyi, “Since you’re staying here for a while, you should know. Wang Xiaomei was my sister, and Mu zili is my brother-in-law. Seven years ago, my sister passed away.”

He showed a bitter smile, “You’ll be staying in the room by the entrance on the second floor. Don’t go to the third floor; that’s my sister’s space.”

“Alright,” Jiang Chenyi nodded.

He set down his portable book case and sat aside, cautiously glancing at the beggar’s face.

A man of such demeanor becoming a beggar-was it because of this?

His wife passed away?

Ah, he shouldn’t have spoken out of turn earlier.

Mu zili caught sight of the anxious young man and suddenly laughed.

Jiang Chenyi didn’t wait long before Wang Dabao came to find him, leading him upstairs to the room.

The furnishings were simple.

A double bed, a table, four chairs, and a copper mirror.

Nothing unnecessary.

“You’ll be staying here from now on,” Wang Dabao said.

Jiang Chenyi bowed, “Thank you, Wang-Ge!”

“No need for thanks. I’ll bring you the clothes tomorrow,” Wang Dabao said, “Your build is a bit different from my sister’s. I’ll see about altering the clothes for you.”

“Great, thank you!” Jiang was delighted.

Great kindness doesn’t need words; he would repay this favor many times over in the future.

Wang Dabao closed the door and walked out.

Jiang set down his portable book case, opened it, and looked at the disorganized, somewhat ancient books inside, letting out a long sigh.

“Alright, let’s start reading these stories.”

Why could he tell such extraordinary tales? Perhaps it was the inspiration drawn from these fantastical stories.

By reading these tales and capturing his immediate feelings, he could adapt the stories and create the endings he desired.

That was how unique stories were born.

Jiang gazed at the ancient books in his hands.

The next day, Jiang received his new clothes.

The outfit made of blue silk, though a bit worn, didn’t diminish its value.

It felt cool and smooth to the touch, and the sensation against his skin was simply delightful.

The young man put on the clothes. Apart from some patterns and details, it was hard to tell it was women’s clothing.

Jiang breathed a sigh of relief.

He placed the portable book case securely and stepped out the door.

This outfit couldn’t withstand any rough treatment, so leaving the book case behind was fine.

Mu zili looked him over, scrutinizing from head to toe, and commented, “Not bad. At least that aura of poverty is gone.”

What could Jiang say?

After breakfast, the beggar picked up his iron bowl. “Let’s go. I’ll introduce you around. It might not pay much at first, but it’s a start.”

“Thank you!” Jiang was genuinely grateful.

In this unfamiliar place, having someone to help was a blessing.

“No need to thank me. Just don’t forget me when you make it big,” the beggar said, walking ahead without looking back.

Jiang touched the silk clothes on his body and glanced at the beggar.

It seemed the beggar didn’t care much for material possessions.

Those words were more like a playful tease.

Then, Jiang was led into a dimly lit little tavern.

The tables and chairs inside weren’t even as good as those at Wang Dabao’s place.

Jiang felt a moment of despair.

Behind the counter, the old tavern keeper with white hair lifted his drooping eyelids, looked at the young man, and smacked his lips. “You look decent enough, but can you talk the talk?”

Mu zili leaned lazily against the counter. “Don’t worry, Old Zhang. If you keep him, you’ll be raking in the money.”

Old Zhang looked at the empty tavern, gritted his teeth, and said, “We’ll split the earnings seventy-thirty. I take thirty, you take seventy. Deal?”

Could Jiang refuse?

Of course not.

“Deal!”

Mu zili watched the young man, who looked like he was marching to his doom, with a smile. He stroked his stubble and said, “Relax. I’ll bring in some people. Once it gets lively, folks will naturally come to listen.”

Old Zhang’s tavern wasn’t in a remote location; it was just on a desolate street corner. People passed by, but few entered.

Mu zili’s idea of bringing people in involved rallying a group of beggars to spread Jiang Chenyi’s copper coins around, singing a new tune in the streets.

“At the old tavern on West Street, a young scholar has arrived. The young scholar is something else-telling stories that’ll make you laugh. If you want to know more, come and see!”

Within a day or two, almost everyone passing through West Street had heard this new tune.

And many, driven by curiosity, went to take a look.

The once desolate tavern became lively.

A carriage, surrounded by guards, passed by the bustling tavern.

The carriage was made of shiny material, adorned with exquisite decorations. Four tall horses pulled it, and the coachman wore fine robes.

The guards surrounding the carriage were even more impressive, looking sharp and dignified.

A young boy peeked out from behind the curtains, eyes bright with curiosity, muttering softly, “Why are there so many people at that place?”

Sitting beside him, a well-dressed and serious young man opened his eyes and looked at his restless nephew. “Xiujin, sit properly.”

The boy was startled, sheepishly lowered the curtain, and said, “Yes, uncle.”

The young man looked in that direction. “What’s piquing your curiosity?”

The boy swallowed, shrinking into the corner. “There’s a tavern outside.”

“And what’s so special about a tavern?” The young man’s voice was gentle yet devoid of emotion.

Footnote:

1. Wen(文): A unit of ancient Chinese currency, typically a copper coin.