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As the only establishment in Starberry Town that could be called a ‘commercial facility,’ the Golden Oak, besides selling its ancestral starberry wine, also shouldered the responsibility of accommodating outsiders.

The first floor was the tavern hall, while the second floor had been converted into several rooms serving as an inn.

Normally, no one would visit this remote town, making Tang Qi the sole current guest.

Under normal circumstances, a single-person room cost 5 copper coins per night, but due to the increased sales brought about by tonight’s performance, the normally miserly Catherine generously covered his lodging for the evening—

She was a shrewd woman who seemed to recognize that Tang Qi could generate revenue far beyond this small gesture.

If it weren’t for the fact that he’d stirred up the drunkards’ enthusiasm, keeping her busy late into the night, the two of them might have been able to discuss future collaboration projects.

However, Tang Qi also needed a quiet environment to rest, so leaving the negotiations for tomorrow was perfectly fine.

After staying indoors for a while, his clothes had dried, so he casually tossed his leather coat onto the wooden bed padded with straw.

Lighting the candle lamp on the table, he finally had time to feast.

The stewed beans had already gone somewhat cold, and the rye bread was dry and hard to swallow, even carrying a faint bitter taste.

But the sweetness of the starberry wine made up for it—

Compared to the heaviness and bitterness of dark beer, the plum wine was much smoother, flowing down his throat like a gentle stream.

The residual liquid clinging to the tip of his tongue brought a continuous, subtle stinging sensation, as if spirits within the wine were dancing on his taste buds.

Tang Qi preferred to call it carbonated fruit juice, yet it undeniably possessed the effects that alcohol should have.

Though it entered cool, his body gradually warmed up as he drank.

His mind began to wander, giving Tang Qi the leisure to ponder his future plans—

Since he’d come to this unfamiliar world, he had to adapt and integrate.

He was already intensely curious about the fantasy world, so there was nothing to complain about.

“So the primary goal now is stability, followed by making money? Otherwise, there’s no way to get the traveling merchant caravans to take me away from here.”

Regarding his experiences in Dawnmist Forest, some parts were already missing from his memory.

He only remembered passing out from hunger but not who had dragged him to the town.

Even so, he’d still heard a bit about the dangers of this forest.

He didn’t dare gamble that Lady Luck would favor him a second time.

“And after leaving here, should I return to the Poet’s Academy?”

Although his instructor hadn’t explicitly said he was driving Tang Qi away, everything between the lines implied that he wasn’t suited to be a bard.

But he was different from his predecessor—Tang Qi considered himself more adaptable. Perhaps he could go back and secure a decent job?

“But being a jester is nothing more than kissing up to nobles, and being a spy carries too much psychological pressure and lacks freedom… What other options could there be?”

Having come all the way to a fantasy world, as long as he could solve the problem of food and shelter, he naturally still wanted to experience everything this world had to offer—including adventure.

Having lived a second life, Tang Qi wasn’t afraid of death.

What he feared more was living a life that wasn’t exciting enough.

There was no one in his memory who had ever published an *Appreciation Guide: About Me and Those Non-Human Race Girls*. If possible, he didn’t mind being a pioneer.

“So that would make me an adventurer?”

The so-called ‘adventurer’ wasn’t actually a profession, but more of a designation—encompassing those who, through chance encounters, actively explored the world.

But his martial skills could only be described as trained, slightly better than a commoner’s.

If he ran into a goblin, fighting to a draw would be quite something—he would never dare claim it was a skill he could rely on.

Even if he’d filled his belly today, facing that Jackal in a direct duel would still end with him beaten to the ground.

“Besides, no team would recruit a bard.”

Adventure teams were groups betting their lives—what would be the point of letting a magicless poet join the team?

So he could cower in a corner singing battle songs during fights?

Or so that after they died in battle, someone would sing dirges while collecting their corpses?

As for magic…

Even the sole Poet’s Academy didn’t have anyone who’d comprehended the magical power of music—

Of course, there were various reasons for this.

Such as the break in the lineage, limitations of talent, the decline of the Poet’s Academy, the intentions of noble sponsors, and so on…

But unable to learn meant unable to learn. Tang Qi couldn’t possibly be an exception.

Having eaten everything on the tray clean and discovering he had no redeeming qualities, Tang Qi couldn’t help but sigh toward the heavens:

“So am I really destined to be a singing poet for the rest of my life!”

Looking at it this way, returning to the Poet’s Academy to have his instructor arrange a job seemed like the most appropriate choice…

With his talent for making pre-prepared dishes and borrowing popular music to please the masses, the path of literary plagiarism seemed like it could go smoothly.

With no other options, Tang Qi could only rummage through his damp pack for paper and pen, attempting to list out his future plans one by one on a checklist.

But as his hands reached into the wet cloth bag, his fingertips touched something with a leathery texture.

Pulling it out for a look, he discovered what appeared to be a thick notebook.

The wisteria-colored cowhide cover was gilded with golden patterns that intertwined to form a large musical note, printed right in the center. Reflecting the candlelight, it shimmered faintly—judging from the quality alone, it was clearly expensive.

Tang Qi didn’t remember having such a book in his pack.

He simply couldn’t afford it.

Driven by curiosity, he opened the frontispiece to investigate.

The pages were as thick as parchment, slightly yellowed.

What met his eyes was just a passage composed in Common Tongue—

[Record stories, obtain rewards; spread your fame far and wide, receive more rewards].

“Is this my golden finger?”

Realizing this book had never been in his pack before, Tang Qi speculated while flipping to the next page.

Apart from a plain white quill pen tucked between the pages, there was only one piece of information—

[Tang Qi Weinberg]

Renown: Obscure and Unknown

Followers: 1

Skills: None

Items: [Slave of History Pen]

Tang Qi’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze quickly skimming over his dismal reputation.

While curious about where that ‘1’ came from, he also carefully examined the [Items] section, which actually recorded a wondrous object—

[Slave of History Pen]

Grade: Uncommon

Description: This quill pen seems to contain inexhaustible ink.

Note: When a slave possesses inexhaustible labor power, he becomes history’s greatest slave—the Lord of the Golden Kingdom, “The Greatest Pioneer,” Sultan Adel.

Tang Qi picked up the quill pen and carefully examined it in the palm of his hand. No matter how he looked at it, it seemed completely ordinary:

“You mean you want me to keep writing and not take pity on you?”

He immediately flipped to the third page, only to find that apart from pre-formatted lines, it was completely blank.

Staring at the blank space, Tang Qi suddenly felt an inexplicable urge to express himself, making him want to pick up the quill pen and write something.

“The book says recording stories will grant rewards, but it doesn’t tell me what stories to record, whether they need to be true or fictional. It also doesn’t mention whether the rewards obtained are material or abstract…”

Scratching his curly hair, Tang Qi felt somewhat at a loss.

“Since it says ‘record’ rather than ‘compose,’ would it be better to write about my own experiences? Like writing a diary?”

This book had appeared from unknown origins, yet it clearly recorded his physical condition and all his possessions.

With nothing to lose, Tang Qi simply decided to write about what had happened since his transmigration.

Though brief, it should still count as a little drama of ‘a bard proving himself,’ right?

Thinking that he’d need to increase his renown in the future, there might even be a possibility of publishing it.

So he simply adopted a journal format, using Common script, and based on the memories in his mind, wrote the first entry—

[Lost Calendar Year 1000, June 7th, Starberry Town, rainstorm.

One year into my travels, I was kicked out of a tavern…]

With some ability in composing lyrics, Tang Qi’s writing naturally wouldn’t be poor.

He also couldn’t really treat it as a diary and record everything he did in exact detail.

At its core, he still wanted it to become an [autobiographical novel].

Today’s experiences couldn’t be called spectacular, but they had their ups and downs, so it was easy enough for him to narrate straightforwardly.

However, the rainstorm outside was truly violent, making it somewhat difficult to settle his mind.

Writing intermittently until reaching the end, Tang Qi, clutching his thick curly hair, suddenly heard a knock at the door.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep