novelapdf Chapter 32 Qiantang
Chapter 32 Qiantang
The man drinking yellow wine spoke up: "Then how did you manage to come back alive?"
The round-faced, toothy man sighed softly, "It was the Dragon King who sent divine soldiers and generals to escort me back to Zhongtian. After returning, I dared not stay at sea and planned to find some work on the inland rivers."
By then, dawn had broken and the rooster crowed.
Song Quyou looked at the three of them with a faint smile. "It's dawn, so I won't take up any more of your time. I'll tell you a little rhyme about a hermit Taoist priest listening to stories in the mountains."
The three men by the fire chuckled, exchanged glances, and silently watched Song Quyou.
Song Quyou glanced at the three of them and said quietly:
"Yellow soup is used to make wine, and ghost stories are told of the land of ghosts. Having seen through the imperial city, one finds it all absurd. Mountain goblins speak of the north, eating their own flesh and blood, and human relationships are turned upside down, oblivious to the harm. Fish monsters recount the west, boasting of the seven treasures, and falsely claim to be in paradise to deceive the mortal world. The Taoist priest is fortunate enough to hear these three monsters, and with a smile, he brushes off his robes and goes his separate ways."
Song Quyou stood up, cupped his hands, and said, "I am truly fortunate to hear such wonderful stories from the three of you. I can only make up a rhyme to make you all laugh."
"However, it's truly a pity today. We've already told stories from the north, south, and west, but my mind is completely blank. I simply don't have any good Eastern stories to accompany yours. But I happen to be heading east, and I hope to encounter some equally good stories."
After listening to Song Quyou's words, the three of them stood up and looked at each other. The man who was drinking yellow wine casually poured out the wine he hadn't finished in his cup. The aroma of the wine was completely gone, and the wine turned into muddy soup on the ground.
The hairless, pointed-mouthed man, baring his yellow teeth, appeared like a monkey in the sunlight streaming in.
The man with a round face and close-set teeth took off his hood, revealing fine, shimmering blue scales.
The three men cupped their hands and said, "Young Taoist priest, you are too kind. It is fate that we can gather together from all over the country. We look forward to meeting you again and hearing you tell us a wonderful story from the East."
"must."
……
Leaving the mountain temple, they headed east without encountering any more ghosts or monsters, and successfully arrived at the extremely prosperous Jiangnan region—Qiantang County.
Qiantang County is naturally blessed with favorable geographical conditions, its goods are traded far and wide, its markets are bustling, and it is said to be the most prosperous in the southeast.
When Song Quyou arrived at this place, it was early morning, the sun was rising in the east, and the morning market was just opening.
The streets and alleys were teeming with people, the bluestone pavement glistening with dew, and shops on both sides had their doors lowered, with vendors shouting their wares. Food stalls lifted their steamers, and white steam billowed directly at people's faces.
Black-awning boats shuttled back and forth at the river wharves in the streets and alleys, and boatwomen squatted at the stern washing clothes. The sound of washing mallets and oars blended together. The true charm of the water town really captivated Song Quyou.
Song Quyou walked into a food shop and looked at the names of the dishes written on bamboo signs hanging on the counter. As the breeze blew, the bamboo pieces collided and made a light, clear sound.
Looking at the names of the dishes, Song Quyou was stumped for a moment, but then two dishes suddenly caught his eye.
"Shopkeeper, give me one serving of West Lake Fish in Vinegar Sauce and one serving of Dongpo Pork."
These two dishes left a deep impression on Song Quyou, and today I have the opportunity to see them for myself.
Sitting by the window, Song Quyou took off his straw hat, rested his sword against the railing, and turned to look out the window in a daze.
Along the way, I've encountered mountain spirits and monsters, entered ghostly prisons, witnessed absurdity, and heard helplessness. Now, I've decided to rest for a while in this gentle water town.
The food was served very quickly.
West Lake Vinegar Fish is served on a celadon plate; the fish is white and tender, drizzled with amber-colored vinegar sauce, and topped with finely chopped ginger. Dongpo Pork, on the other hand, is a square piece of pork belly, glossy and oily, resting on a bed of bright green bok choy, its skin trembling slightly.
Song Quyou looked up at the innkeeper serving the dishes, "Innkeeper, are there any real estate agents around here?"
The innkeeper was easy to talk to, and his whole demeanor exuded the gentle charm of the Jiangnan water towns. "After you've finished your meal, head east of the city. There are many houses there. However, I can tell you that you're from out of town, so let me tell you something: in our Qiantang County, there are many spirits and monsters. Some houses may look very nice, but you might not be the only one living there."
However, I must add my two cents: judging from your attire, you are likely a Taoist priest, and therefore fearless.
Song Quyou grinned at the thin shopkeeper, "Thank you for the reminder, shopkeeper. I'll remember it."
After the shopkeeper left, Song Quyou picked up his chopsticks, took a piece of fish, and his expression changed. The first taste was crab-like, but the aftertaste was fishy. Song Quyou shook his head, thinking, "This fish died for nothing."
Fortunately, the Dongpo pork tasted alright.
After finishing his meal, Song Quyou paid the bill, put his straw hat back on, and headed east of the city with his sword.
The streets and alleys of Qiantang were far more lively than I had imagined. The cries of vendors rose and fell along the streets. Sellers of sugar paintings, dough figurines, and shadow puppets filled both sides of the streets, attracting people to stop and look.
Song Quyou walked across a stone arch bridge. The river beneath the bridge was a clear, deep blue, and in the cold winter, white steam rose from it, adding a touch of ethereal beauty to the few white geese leisurely paddling in the water.
Arriving in the east of the city, I found that there were indeed many real estate agents there. There were seven or eight on one street, none of them large, but their signs were polished to a shine.
Song Quyou only glanced at it a few times before the astute broker sensed a business opportunity.
"Sir, are you looking to buy or rent a house?" Song Quyou was taken aback by this sudden enthusiasm.
The broker who came forward was a lean man. He looked into Song Quyou's eyes, his face full of smiles. His eyes lingered on the hilt of the sword at Song Quyou's waist for a moment, then he quickly looked away.
Before Song Quyou could answer, the real estate agent continued to press, "Sir, would you prefer a quieter place or a more lively one? If you prefer convenience, there are many courtyards facing the street, but they are expensive. If you want peace and quiet, go deeper into the alley; there are several nice houses there."
Song Quyou thought for a moment: "It's better to be quieter."
The real estate agent pressed further, "What price range do you have in mind, sir? What are your requirements for the room type?"
After thinking for a moment, Song Quyou said, "I want one with a courtyard; we'll discuss the price later."
The broker pulled Song Quyou into the shop, brewed a cup of tea, and then picked out a floor plan of a house with a courtyard, laying it out in front of Song Quyou.
Song Quyou glanced at the prices and his eyes widened in shock. A small apartment in the city's bustling area would cost four thousand taels of silver, while those in slightly less desirable locations would still require several hundred taels. With only a little over one hundred and forty taels to his name, Song Quyou sighed deeply, "Being poor is good, being poor is good."
The broker, perhaps noticing Song Quyou's predicament, glanced at the long sword at Song Quyou's waist, swallowed hard, and said, "If you think it's too expensive, sir, our shop also has rooms outside the city. They're cheaper than those inside the city, and the scenery is better, and they're larger."
"Let me see it."
The broker brought out the floor plan and said, "This house is in the north of the city, below Lingfo Temple. The scenery is beautiful and quiet, and it also has a large courtyard with a garden in the back. The owner has been promoted and is in a hurry to sell it off to another place, so it's cheap, only one hundred and twenty taels."
Song Quyou stared at the house, his eyes lighting up. It was nestled against the mountain and by the water, with a large courtyard, much cheaper than the old, dilapidated houses in the city. It was exactly the love room of his dreams.