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The knocking came with a familiar rhythm:

“Bang bang, clap—bang bang, clap—”

“Who is it?”

“It’s Anbi!”

“Who’s Anbi?”

“Anbi is Anbi!”

The petulant complaint from outside the door grew increasingly familiar, and the knocking became more urgent. Only then did Tang Qi realize who it was.

Remembering this was the first little girl who had followed his lead in pounding the table, he quickly got up to open the door.

The girl still wore her hood, hiding her face in shadow.

However, the outline of the hood seemed to be propped up by something, making her head look somewhat large.

Though Tang Qi was curious, he wouldn’t pry without invitation, simply saying:

“What can I do for you?”

“Big sister said you might need this.”

The young girl timidly raised her hand and pulled a razor from her wide sleeve before quickly retracting it again.

The handle was engraved with silver filigree patterns, quite exquisite—not something that would belong to a village household.

“She said no one likes watching a vagrant perform, and you should make yourself look more like a poet.”

“Oh, perhaps she’s right.”

Tang Qi hastily accepted it, but then realized that his beard, as unkempt as a bird’s nest, would probably shred his chin raw if he didn’t wet it first.

“Is there water?”

“There’s a bucket in the courtyard.”

“Then I’ll wait until the rain stops to shave, shall I?”

“Okay.”

Anbi nodded but stood there dumbly, showing no signs of moving.

“Something else?” Tang Qi asked.

“That song from today, I can’t quite remember all the lyrics. Could you sing it again?”

Anbi was somewhat hesitant, taking quite a while to voice her request. Then she quickly explained,

“Anbi isn’t stupid! It’s just… just that the lyrics are too long…”

Tang Qi was caught between laughter and tears, “Do you like that song?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Anbi can’t really say, but liking it means liking it!”

As if pledging her loyalty, the little girl answered decisively, then nimbly assumed a fighting stance and punched forward,

“Anbi also hates nobles!”

Seeing that she wasn’t pretending, Tang Qi suddenly thought of the ‘1’ after “followers” in his notebook.

The specific situation required further verification, but considering the young girl might be his first fan, Tang Qi wouldn’t refuse her request.

So he simply invited Anbi inside:

“I just happened to write the lyrics in my diary. Want to come take a look?”

“Yes!”

Out of her fondness for that ballad, the young girl bounced into the room.

She was completely oblivious to how somewhat improper it was to enter a strange man’s room.

But fortunately, Tang Qi had basic moral principles and truly only handed over the contents of his diary for Anbi to examine—

He wasn’t foolish enough to write anything about “transmigration.”

He merely narrated everything that happened in the tavern from “Tang Qi’s” perspective.

At the same time, he also included that ballad:

“When they sing of the past, who strives for tomorrow?

In their silk and jewels tonight, who’s coerced by gold’s sorrow…”

Anbi memorized the lyrics carefully, afraid she’d forget the melody, and immediately began to hum along.

But halfway through singing, she suddenly stuttered to a halt:

“I’m sorry!”

Tang Qi asked in confusion:

“Why apologize?”

“Anbi seems to have sung it wrong!”

As the original creator, Tang Qi could naturally hear that she’d gone off-key in some places:

“Without professional training, singing a few notes wrong was perfectly normal.”

But she didn’t seem able to accept this; she lowered her head and promised Tang Qi:

“Don’t worry, Anbi won’t sing this song in front of other people from now on.”

“No, you absolutely can. Don’t say you just sang a few notes wrong—even if you were tone-deaf, you could still sing.”

You absolutely must keep singing!

Otherwise, how would his reputation increase?

“I can’t. They’ll think it sounds bad.”

“First of all, a few off notes didn’t affect your interpretation at all. You sang very well—so vehemently that I thought you really wanted to hang nobles in the streets. Emotion is far more important than technique.”

Tang Qi leaned in closer, telling her quietly,

“Second, so what if they think it sounds bad? Are you planning to perform it for money?”

“Of course not!”

Anbi shook her head,

“Anbi just thinks singing songs she likes makes her happy.”

As his first “fan,” Tang Qi didn’t understand the reason for her stubbornness, but he was willing to patiently guide her:

“You see, you’re not trying to gain recognition or profit through singing.

You just want to sing.

Heaven gave every person a throat, and thus gave every person the right to sing.

The choice is yours, and no one can take it from you—not even the original creator!

Of course, it’s still best not to sing this one in front of many people. You can secretly sing it to yourself.”

“But Anbi is different. They hate her, so she has to do everything perfectly—they can’t find fault with her or with this song.”

Anbi’s voice grew softer and softer as she tugged at Tang Qi’s sleeve,

“Anbi likes your song… so she doesn’t want anyone to speak badly of it!”

This touched upon Tang Qi’s cognitive blind spots.

Though it was hard to imagine anyone disliking such a little girl, he held his tongue.

But adhering to the principle of not judging without knowing the full picture, he couldn’t say much.

Fortunately, the young girl wasn’t that fragile to begin with. She simply bowed to Tang Qi and thanked him:

“Thank you, poet-gege! This time Anbi really has memorized it!”

“Having my work be loved is itself my honor. Also, just call me Tang Qi.”

“My name is Anbi. I’m a helper at the tavern, and I live here too!”

Though she often referred to herself this way, she still made a formal self-introduction.

She moved toward the door, then as if remembering something, suddenly turned back:

“Tang Qi-gege, will you still be here tomorrow?”

“Of course. I’ll be staying here for the short term.”

“Big sister taught me to brew my first barrel of starberry wine. I’ll bring it for you to try tomorrow, together with her.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

“See you tomorrow then. Sweet dreams!”

Anbi didn’t forget to gently close the door before running off with little pattering steps.

Listening to the little girl’s footsteps gradually fade into the sound of rain, Tang Qi’s mood was quite pleasant.

Sure enough, a sense of belonging still came from human interaction.

Getting to know someone, even if just a little girl, made this strange world feel much more familiar to him.

Even the sound of rain wasn’t as manic anymore.

Looking back at the contents of his journal, all that was missing was a conclusion.

He hummed a little tune and filled in the scene of his parting with Anbi at the end of the paragraph:

[She said “see you tomorrow” to me, as if she too was looking forward to tomorrow.

It wasn’t until I wrote this sentence that I suddenly realized…

I might have made a new friend.]

When he wrote the period, Tang Qi suddenly heard a clear note from a lute by his ear.

“Twang—”

Like ripples spreading across a lake surface, the resonant sound floated past his ear, drawing closer and closer.

Immediately after, at the end of the journal, he saw small characters glowing with a shimmering purple aura emerge on the parchment—

[How others feel about you sometimes depends on yourself.

Your appropriately measured performance won back the drunks’ approval, while your sense of boundaries that didn’t pry too much earned you the young girl’s favor.

You may be a natural-born bard.

What you’ll lack least in the future will be friends.]

[You have obtained the cantrip ‘Friendship’: Target a non-hostile creature and cast. For 1 minute, they will maintain a friendly attitude toward you. When this spell ends, the target will realize you once used magic to manipulate their emotions.

Note:

There are rarely eternal friends in this world, but there will always be new friends.

Wait, why are friends from all over the world chasing me down to kill me?]

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep