Chapter 106: Chapter 87: Story Rules

The Su Liangyuan in front of her now was completely different from the one who had knelt and wept, begging for his son to be saved, except for the identical features; his demeanor was entirely changed, as if he were a different person.

A bone-chilling aura surged in like a tide, instantly trapping Sang Que—it’s the Evil Mist!

Thicker and more dangerous than the Evil Mist of the Yin Child, in the blink of an eye, everything around her was shrouded in a gray haze, all else vanished.

Sang Que instinctively backed away, wary. The oppressive feeling was so overwhelming that she dared not even breathe heavily, much like when she first faced Yan Daozi’s scrutiny, unarmed and defenseless.

She couldn’t act recklessly; making a move would surely provoke an attack, and she might not escape the Evil Mist he conjured.

Sang Que clutched Xuan Yu securely, silently calming herself, engaging all her brain cells to analyze the situation.

The newcomer’s identity was unclear, the situation ambiguous. He mentioned Yan Daozi, so he must know him, but why would he seek her out?

Iron sword!

The iron sword in her hand belonged to Yan Daozi!

The intelligence Yan Daozi had on the storyteller came from an old friend—it had to be Su Liangyuan in front of her. He must have arranged to meet Yan Daozi here to find the storyteller together.

Yan Daozi hadn’t told Wan Xiangtou of the Ghost Opera Troupe about her matters, and perhaps hadn’t told anyone else either.

Maybe she could try deceiving him first!

Sang Que quickly hid the surprise in her eyes, feigning confusion and visibly on guard, “My master sent me in advance to explore.”

Su Liangyuan had one hand hidden behind his back, clutching something unknown. His entire being was cloaked in an ethereal gray mist, squinting to scrutinize Sang Que before taking a deep look at Xuan Yu nestled in her arms.

“Yan Daozi is your master? Isn’t his disciple a man named Ming Zhang?”

“I killed him!” Sang Que responded with a calm expression.

A flicker of astonishment crossed Su Liangyuan’s eyes, then he laughed, “Has Yan Daozi never mentioned me?”

Sang Que took out Yan Daozi’s Dao Bell from her bag again, “Master told me not to ask around indiscriminately, just said that someone seeing his sword and Dao Bell would come to assist.”

Su Liangyuan glanced at the Dao Bell, nodding slightly, while the Evil Mist around him receded a little. He mused that Yan Daozi, that coward, always let others go ahead for him, fleeing faster than anyone else when things got tough.

If it weren’t for the fact that the method Yan Daozi taught him to pretend to be possessed by Evil Spirits to deceive them actually worked, reducing his backlash by a significant amount, he would be reluctant to help Yan Daozi.

Not casually revealing his information, at least Yan Daozi had some conscience.

Yan Daozi had always praised his previous disciple highly, and the fact that this one could kill and replace the former meant she was even more exceptional in temperament and talent.

The fact that she wasn’t killed by that curse earlier must also be because Yan Daozi gave her something to preserve her life; Yan Daozi had many good things!

“Do you know what you’re here for?” Su Liangyuan asked.

Sang Que nodded, “To find the storyteller.”

“Which layer of the Nine Netherworld are you in now?”

“Just entered the Second Layer.”

Su Liangyuan’s eyes widened in surprise, then he nodded slightly, “Not bad indeed. Your master had previously asked me to find a manageable Evil Spirit for his last disciple, Ming Zhang; I assume you need one too?”

Sang Que showed eagerness, “Do you have a way?”

Su Liangyuan smiled, “Of course, many have died in this Ming Mansion. Because of the storyteller’s involvement, the deceased have all become Evil Spirits. Catching one suitable for you is quite simple.”

“Just the nine brides would be enough for you to choose from. If you have the capability to capture the Ming Family’s monstrous eldest daughter, you can establish some connection to the Nie God worshiped by the Ming Family, with limitless potential.”

Had Sang Que not known that becoming a Yin Walker was 90% about accident and luck, she’d truly believe Su Liangyuan’s nonsense; how many ignorant people had they deceived with this excuse?

Judging by the way Yan Daozi addressed him as senior brother in his letter, Su Liangyuan was likely also a Taoist Disciple and a Yin Walker, capable of controlling Evil Spirits possessing Evil Mist like the Yin Child.

Overall, he was slightly stronger than Yan Daozi, likely matching her in power, so was Su Liangyuan’s Evil Mist a Third Layer Evil Mist with new changes? Otherwise, how could he stay in the Ming Mansion for a day and night unscathed; of course, his talks of finding his son earlier might have been lies too.

It’s a habit of Yan Daozi and his ilk to raise a disciple as a Pathfinding Stone. The son Su Liangyuan referred to earlier was most certainly a sacrificed disciple of his.

The performance earlier for those three burly woodsmen was likely to lure people in to search the way.

Now that he sought her out, the purpose couldn’t be more obvious.

Sang Que felt irritated, harboring an uncontainable murderous intent; she wished she could pull out her pig-killing knife and end Su Liangyuan with one stroke.

But she was still under the aftereffects of Recovery, remembering her mother’s warning not to make decisions when emotions ran high, and being cautious of Su Liangyuan possibly having multiple contingencies like Yan Daozi.

It’s better to follow Su Liangyuan for now, gathering information on the storyteller and the Ming Mansion.

“Uncle,” Sang Que tentatively called out. Su Liangyuan did not object, so she continued, “What exactly is the situation at the Ming Mansion now? Are you trapped too?”

“Don’t speak nonsense. I came in to find the storyteller. If not for that, I would have already left. The story of the Ming Mansion is currently unfolding and reaching its conclusion. The storyteller will surely appear, and that will be the best time to catch him.”

Su Liangyuan seemed to be hit right in the heart by Sang Que’s words, becoming emotionally agitated.

“But this storyteller is simply too powerful, like an enigma.” Sang Que intentionally remarked.

Su Liangyuan snorted coldly, “Just a shaman under a fallen Evil God, with some intricate tricks, but there’s still a way to counter them. Follow me, and I’ll explain on the way. Keep an eye on your cat, don’t startle the dirty things in the Ming Mansion.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the surrounding Evil Mist dispersed instantly, and Su Liangyuan vanished from in front of Sang Que. Footsteps sounded behind her.

Sang Que froze in place, a chill running straight to her head.

The Su Liangyuan who had been speaking with her was fake. The real Su Liangyuan had been behind her the entire time, and she hadn’t noticed at all. Neither the Yin Child nor Xuan Yu had reacted. If she had acted against Su Liangyuan just now, the consequences would have been unimaginable.

“Hurry up and follow!”

“Coming… coming!”

Su Liangyuan smirked, satisfied with Sang Que’s startled response, as he led her out through a small gate in the back courtyard with familiarity.

Sang Que could only hope now that Xia Chan and the others were smart enough, as she could barely protect herself and had no time to worry about too much else!

Su Liangyuan’s Evil Mist might be a level higher than the Yin Child’s, exerting a strong suppressive force on her. Once the Yin Child improves, she’ll certainly be able to do what he can do.

“Have you ever written a story?” Su Liangyuan, walking ahead, asked. His hand always hidden in his sleeve, seemingly gripping something.

Sang Que had Xuan Yu lie quietly on her shoulder as she hurried to catch up, holding her iron sword. “I haven’t read that many books.”

Su Liangyuan glanced back at her with a chuckle, “As a woman, if you have the chance to be under Yan Daozi, you must seize the opportunity to learn well. It will be endlessly beneficial for you.”

“Yes.”

Yan Daozi did provide her with many good things, even if reluctantly.

“Every story must have three major elements: theme, events, and characters. More specifically, it’s time, place, conflict, characters, and conclusion.”

Sang Que felt like she was in a literature class, her head ticking away… Ah!

“The storyteller seems formidable, but writing a story has many limitations. First and foremost, he must be recognized by the world as a storyteller, or what he writes cannot influence reality.”

“Is it the identity conferred by the incense burner?” Sang Que asked.

Su Liangyuan stopped, and Sang Que immediately became alert, seeing a shadow dressed as a servant at the road ahead, carrying a blood-soaked human head like a lantern, slowly passing by.

Su Liangyuan stretched his neck to watch for a moment, then continued moving only after confirming safety, “The incense burner representing the storyteller’s identity is a mask. If you can steal his mask, he will naturally lose his ability to write stories. That’s the main way to deal with him.”

Sang Que’s eyes brightened, surprised at the simplicity, but finding the storyteller hidden in the shadows might not be easy.

Su Liangyuan and Yan Daozi were definitely targeting the storyteller’s incense burner.

After all, getting hold of the incense burner allows one to replace him. Who wouldn’t be tempted? As for forging an incense burner, it’s likely impossible, otherwise, everyone could be a storyteller.

Su Liangyuan continued, “A storyteller’s story also has to be based on real events, a logical extension. It must be reasonable, something people see and believe will happen, and it can’t be written at random.”

Sang Que nodded, understanding this point. If a storyteller was really so omnipotent, they could just write about a meteor shower and obliterate a city in a sneeze. Why exert so much brainpower writing complex twists to create a horror atmosphere?

When she had read an earlier story, she immediately thought of whether the three people in the story referred to the three Green Forest heroes, and the Water Ghost appearing on rainy days, and the Ming Mansion’s strange monsters wandering about also fit the logical backdrop.

Sang Que asked again, “Does a storyteller’s story need to be seen to take effect, or just writing it is enough?”

“The latter; as long as it’s written down, the story’s power will invisibly drive the mentioned characters and gradually change the mentioned places.”

“I see.”

“Every story must have an ending, and the ending must resonate with the story’s theme. The storyteller of the Nine Songs always aims for ’punish evil and promote good,’ and the tone of the story must be terrifying. This point doesn’t change.”

“Fear can enhance reality’s ability to be influenced by the story, and the storyteller’s ability isn’t acquired without cost. Any power demands a corresponding price. Once a story begins, the storyteller’s life will deplete over time, afflicted by various diseases.”

“Therefore, none of his stories are too long, and he must appear at the story’s conclusion to give a concluding statement that echoes the story’s theme, announcing the story’s end, to cease the price he’s paying.”

Sang Que understood; the start and end of a story must have a clear symbol, otherwise, it’s just an endless drain on life.

In this bizarre world, no power is free, making Sang Que hesitate whether to tell her mom about the storyteller.

Wait!

Could the story her mom is currently writing also affect her lifespan?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep