The next morning, Jiang Ming got up early to prepare for the day.
Whoosh!
Suddenly, a burst of golden light shot from his chest, transforming into a towering man who landed beside him, startling Jiang Ming.
"Lord Chong, why are you trying to scare me?" he asked.
The individuals Jiang Ming had captured and sealed into cards, drawn from the tales of ancient legends, were somewhat independent. Although Jiang Ming had the power to summon them at will, they also possessed a degree of autonomy.
Chong Heihu, a seasoned warrior from the ancient battles, had spent the night contemplating his new circumstances. Now, with a calmer mind, he clasped his hands and bowed, "I was disrespectful last night, young master. I hope you'll forgive me."
Jiang Ming extended his hand to help him up. "This place isn't suitable for talking. Let's go outside."
The two walked out to the courtyard. As Chong Heihu took in the unfamiliar atmosphere of this world, he sighed, "My past life feels like a dream. Is this life just another illusion?"
After a brief moment of reflection, Chong Heihu became curious about the world they were now in. Jiang Ming explained what he knew, though even he had limited understanding of the bigger picture.
"So, I've been resurrected thanks to you, young master. This debt of gratitude cannot go unrepaid. I shall pledge my loyalty to you," Chong Heihu said solemnly, kneeling before Jiang Ming.
Jiang Ming quickly helped him up again, smiling wryly. "Please, no need for such formalities. Let's consider ourselves friends. I'm just an ordinary man and will need your assistance often in the future, General."
When dealing with someone as upright as Chong Heihu, respect and sincerity were the best approach. In contrast, Jiang Ming knew that when it came to Daji, he'd have to be on guard constantly, wary of her bewitching abilities.
Sure enough, Chong Heihu appreciated the straightforward treatment. Jiang Ming admired many figures from ancient stories, both from the Zhou and Shang dynasties. Despite being on opposing sides, most of them were loyal and brave, rarely fearing death or compromising their integrity.
"What is your name, young master?" Chong Heihu asked.
"Jiang Ming," he replied.
"Jiang... Could it be?" A thought crossed Chong Heihu's mind, but he hesitated to say it aloud.
Just then, a gust of eerie wind swept through, and Daji appeared nearby with a sly smile. "Well, well, Chong Heihu, long time no see."
"You vile fox! How dare you show your face here? Get back!" Chong Heihu shouted.
Daji rolled her eyes, unfazed. "Chong Heihu, do you really think you have the strength to fight me now?"
Though they were both spirits manifesting through the power of belief, neither retained more than a fraction of their former abilities. Yesterday, Daji had been caught off guard by Chong Heihu, but now that she had time to reflect, she no longer feared him.
Seeing the two about to clash, Jiang Ming quickly stepped in to mediate.
"Young master, this witch seduced King Zhou into committing countless atrocities, ultimately destroying the 600-year legacy of the Shang dynasty. You mustn't be fooled by her appearance," Chong Heihu warned.
Jiang Ming nodded in agreement. He was all too aware of Daji's treacherous nature. Unlike King Zhou, he lacked the charisma and dominance to make her submit willingly. Even King Zhou himself couldn't resist her charms, succumbing to her manipulation and losing everything. Jiang Ming had no intention of making the same mistake.
Seeing it was getting late, Jiang Ming withdrew both of them into their respective cards and went to have a simple breakfast before heading to the teahouse for his storytelling session.
The Taihe Teahouse was busier than ever that day. Both floors were packed with people, and some were even peeking through the windows from outside. Jiang Ming entered through a side door and took his place behind the screen. With a single slap of the wooden gavel, the room fell silent.
"There seems to be some kind of calming charm in that sound," thought Ma Liang, a Demon Hunter seated in the corner. Even his experienced mind, trained as a ninth-rank martial artist, had briefly felt at peace.
On the second floor, near a window, sat an older man and a younger one, both regulars at the teahouse. The young man also noticed the difference today.
"Did you feel it?" the old man asked with a smile.
The young man, his face serious, replied, "Teacher, did you already sense this?"
"Yes. This isn't just about martial skill. Even those who've never read a word in their lives can understand the depth of his storytelling. It's said that in ancient times, sages could express profound truths with simple words. This young storyteller has some talent," the old man remarked casually.
The younger man was stunned. His teacher was no ordinary scholar, and to hear him speak so highly of this storyteller piqued his interest. He suddenly wanted to meet the man behind the stories.
Unaware of the attention he was drawing, Jiang Ming continued his tale. Today's performance covered chapters seven and eight of his narrative: Fei Zhong's scheme to dethrone Queen Jiang, and the rebellion of Fang Bi and Fang Xiang against the capital of Zhaoge.
As Jiang Ming recounted how Daji, insulted by Queen Jiang's criticism of her improper conduct, hatched a plot to frame her, the audience's faces filled with anger. The queen was blinded and later tortured to death, showcasing Daji's cruel and vengeful nature in all its horror.
The crowd cursed Daji under their breath, their emotions stirred by the injustice of the story.
At that moment, a group of thuggish men barged into the teahouse. The leader, bare-armed and tattooed, spit near a guest's feet, demanding, "Who's the owner here?"
No one responded, so the tattooed man overturned a nearby table, sending guests scrambling.
"It's Zhu San from Niu Ma Alley! What's he doing here with his gang?" someone whispered.
Zhu San sneered at the teahouse's staff as a waiter cautiously approached, "What do you want with us?"
Zhu San smirked. "Shut up, this is between us and Taihe Teahouse. None of your business."
With a flash of his aura, Zhu San revealed himself to be a ninth-rank martial artist. His lackeys, each brandishing knives, glared menacingly at the other patrons. Though some guests had the means to fight back, none wanted to risk their lives over a teahouse scuffle.
As no one spoke up, Zhu San grinned smugly, thinking that disrupting a mere teahouse was an easy task.
The head waiter, Fu Bo, descended from the second floor with a frown. "What seems to be the issue here, good sir? How about you sit down and enjoy some tea while we discuss things calmly?"
Zhu San spat in Fu Bo's face. "My brother drank your tea yesterday, and now he's sick in bed! How are you going to fix this?"
Fu Bo wiped his face calmly, concealing his anger. "Our teahouse only serves quality tea. It couldn't have caused any harm."
Zhu San pressed on, "He only drank your tea, so if it's not your fault, is it mine?"
Some in the crowd began to murmur. "I got sick after drinking here too. Maybe their tea isn't fresh."
Tension was rising, but Jiang Ming, observing the situation, knew they couldn't let this go unchallenged. Allowing these thugs to tarnish the teahouse's reputation could ruin their business.
Jiang Ming pushed open the screen and stepped forward. The guests were surprised to see how young the storyteller was. Enhanced by Daji's charm, Jiang Ming seemed particularly striking, catching the eye of some wealthy patrons with certain... tastes.
Feeling a chill run down his spine, Jiang Ming ignored it and pointed at the group of ruffians. "Those of you who claim our tea made you sick, step forward."
Reluctantly, a few of them came forward.
Zhu San sneered, "And who are you?"
Jiang Ming didn't acknowledge him. Instead, he bowed to the crowd and said, "I am Jiang Ming, the young master of Taihe Teahouse. I apologize for the disruption today. To make amends, today's tea is on the house."
The crowd cheered, praising Jiang Ming for his fairness and generosity.
Now turning to the ruffians, Jiang Ming coldly asked, "What tea did you drink yesterday?"
"D-Dragon Well," one of them stammered.
Jiang Ming laughed. "We don't serve Dragon Well here."
Another thug quickly added, "Uh, it was Jasmine then."
"We don't serve Jasmine either."
The thugs were at a loss for words. Zhu San scowled. "How could a teahouse not serve those teas?"
A customer pointed to the wall where the tea offerings were listed, but none of the thugs could read.
"Taihe Teahouse serves only special blends—Bamboo Spring Breeze, Green Lotus Dew, Fresh Snow Buds... We don't sell common teas like Dragon Well or Iron Goddess."
Taihe Teahouse, known for its unique offerings, had struggled because patrons often couldn't recognize the fancy names of the teas. Still, Jiang Ming's father had insisted on keeping the tradition alive, even if it hurt business.
The thugs, now realizing they'd been caught in a lie, fell silent, embarrassed