Lin Xuan, a great rogue cultivator, keeps his head down and cultivates steadily in the world of cultivation, always playing it safe
Volume One: Turmoil in the Mortal Realm
Chapter One: The Storyteller of Lanxian Town
The sun was sinking in the west, scattering flecks of gold across the blue stone streets of Lanxian Town.
The town was small, with barely three hundred households, but it had an imposing name: Lanxian Town. Legend had it that a thousand years ago, an immortal passed through and rested on the stone bridge at the eastern end. The bridge was later named the Welcoming Immortal Bridge. The town records say little about what the immortal looked like or where he went, but the story has given the teahouse storytellers an endless source of material.
A venerable locust tree stood in the town center, so broad that three people holding hands could barely encircle its trunk. It was said to be older than the town itself. Beneath its shade sat a rickety wooden table with one short leg. On it lay a storyteller's block, a folding fan, and a cup of coarse tea. Three or four dozen people gathered around, sitting or standing: local idlers and traveling merchants alike, all there to hear a tale.
"Smack!"
The storyteller's block came down, and the chatter stopped at once.
The young man behind the table looked no older than seventeen or eighteen. He wore a faded blue robe, had clear, handsome features, and seemed to have a smile naturally playing at the corners of his mouth. He lifted the coarse tea to moisten his throat, swept his gaze across the crowd, and spoke in a clear, penetrating voice:
"Ladies and gentlemen, today we're not talking about old tales from a bygone dynasty or stories of handsome scholars and beautiful maidens. Today, we're telling a tale of immortals."
Someone in the crowd heckled, "Lin Xuan, you're a mortal. What would you know about immortals?"
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