Chapter Two: Upheaval

"Little Cur, I can see nothing good ever comes out of your mouth. If you say Shen Wansan is going to take a fall, that would be the biggest joke in all of Xingyang City. There are things you can eat recklessly, but words are not among them. You know full well what Shen Wansan is capable of. If he hears you spouting such nonsense, you’d better watch out—you’ll be in trouble before you know it!" Old Du was in high spirits, brimming with pride as he spoke, but suddenly, this boy appeared out of nowhere. Regardless of whether his outburst was true or false, it was as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown over Old Du’s head, leaving him thoroughly disgruntled and unable to resist scolding the boy.

It was then that the crowd finally got a look at the newcomer. He was perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old, his body almost blackened beneath tattered clothes, so thin he was little more than skin and bones. Clearly, he was nothing but a beggar. No wonder, then, that not just Old Du, but none of the gathered crowd believed a word he said. Sensing their disbelief, the boy’s face flushed with urgency, and he hurried to defend himself: "I’m not making this up! I saw it with my own eyes, I swear it’s true. The whole Mingyue Manor is already in an uproar!"

"They say I, Hou Third, am a braggart, but you, boy, are even better at it! What’s your status? How could you possibly get into Mingyue Manor? You think we’re all fools here, ready to be taken in by your tall tales?" Hou Third, whose moment in the spotlight had been stolen by Old Du, was already feeling sour, but had no way to vent his frustration on Old Du. Now, with the sudden arrival of the beggar and his bizarre tale, Hou Third had found the perfect outlet. He stood taller and spoke with a lofty disdain, as if convinced the boy was lying.

Seeing everyone react this way, the beggar’s confidence faltered a little. Yet his stubbornness shone through, and he pressed on, determined to persuade them: "That—that—never mind how I got in, I have my ways. I’m not lying! Believe me or not, it’s up to you!"

"Fine then," Old Du said, curiosity piqued despite himself, "today I’ll give you this chance. Tell us what’s happened. If your story holds water, not only will your drinks be free today, but I’ll cover you for the whole month. But if you can’t back it up, you’d best not show your face around here again!"

The beggar’s eyes lit up at this. Though young, he was a notorious tippler. Free drinks, and for a whole month? That was a windfall. Excitement so overwhelmed him that he scarcely heard Old Du’s threat. Without caring about anyone’s reaction, he snatched a wine jar from the table and took a great gulp. He moved so fast that, though someone at the table was annoyed, they had no time to protest. Besides, everyone was eager for the story; no one wished to spoil the mood.

As soon as the wine slid down his throat, the beggar felt his whole body relax. He even let out a satisfied burp, swept his gaze around the room, and began, "Shen Wansan marrying off his daughter is a major event for the martial world. All the guests are people of standing—heroes, officials, men of influence. Any one of them outshines all present here!"

He paused then and raised the wine jar to his lips again. Clearly the wine bug had bitten him; to call him a connoisseur would’ve been generous—he was simply a drunkard. But this time, Old Du grabbed him by the arm. Perhaps his status made Old Du more lenient, for though his words were harsh, he wore a smile: "Finish your tale before you drink any more, boy, or you’ll never be able to pay for the wine."

"Tight-fisted!" muttered the beggar under his breath, his spindly frame powerless against Old Du. He could only grumble quietly, forcing an awkward smile as he tried to appease him. "Manager Du, there’s no need for that. I’ll tell the story, all right? I’ll tell it."

Having reached this point, Old Du relented, and the beggar reluctantly set the wine jar aside. He knew that with everyone watching, there was no hope of sneaking another sip, so he might as well get the story over with. After all, he wasn't making it up; once the truth was out, wine would be his for the asking.

With his mind made up, he hesitated no longer, and his words came quickly: "Shen Wansan’s daughter’s wedding was truly extraordinary. Never mind what the lady Shen looks like—I wouldn’t know—but the dowry included two treasures. One was the martial arts manual of the Master of Mingyue Mountain. With no sons, Shen Wansan naturally meant to pass his legacy to his future son-in-law. That’s only to be expected. The other was a luminous pearl from Beihai, as large as a pigeon’s egg and worth a fortune. And here’s the thing—the trouble began with that very pearl!"

He paused again, but this time not for wine. The moment was approaching its climax, and he wanted to gauge the crowd’s reaction. Xingyang was a city that loved a good storyteller, and the beggar had learned a trick or two. The once lively tavern fell silent as everyone, even those with wine halfway to their lips, fixed their eyes on him. Only a solitary figure in the far corner was unmoved—a strange man who drank alone and seemed not to hear a word.

But that hardly mattered; not every listener need be won over. With so many eyes upon him, the beggar felt a surge of pride. To be the center of attention was truly intoxicating. He coughed twice to clear his throat and capture the crowd’s attention anew: "That luminous pearl was stolen. Can you imagine the nerve? Not only did the thief steal it, but he sent word ahead—he would come to collect it at noon the next day! Isn’t that madness? At noon, when the place was full of guests and skilled fighters, who would dare attempt such a thing? Isn’t that the wildest joke you’ve ever heard?"

"And then what happened?" someone in the crowd blurted out, unable to wait for the climax. It was the question on everyone’s mind, and the beggar, emboldened, paid it no heed. He propped one foot on a long bench, boosting himself up as though height lent him authority, gesturing grandly as a storyteller might with his folding fan. "Good question, my friend! Outwardly it sounded ridiculous, but no one dared to take it lightly. When noon arrived, not just the guards but even Shen Wansan himself watched with unblinking eyes. And then—can you guess?"

He broke off again, reaching for the wine jar. Perhaps out of anticipation, even Old Du did not stop him this time. With tacit approval, the beggar gulped down another mouthful, savoring it, his face aglow with satisfaction. "Suddenly, with a swish, a black object shot down from the eaves. Shen Wansan, true to his reputation, shifted his stance and caught it between his fingers. Looking closely, he saw it was a gold leaf. Smiling, he called up to the roof, ‘Since you’ve come, why not show yourself? Lurking in the shadows is not the way of a true hero!’"

"Then that should’ve been the end of it, right? Who could best Shen Wansan?" Old Du couldn’t help interjecting. In his view, it was best there be no mishap for the Shen family—otherwise, who would pay for his wine?

The beggar swept his gaze around, relishing his command of the room. "That’s what I thought too! Who could best Shen Wansan? But can you guess? There wasn’t so much as a shadow on the roof. Instead, a voice drifted farther and farther away: ‘Many thanks for your hospitality, Master Shen. I, Gold Leaf, will be taking the pearl!’"

Perhaps to amuse himself, the beggar imitated the mysterious voice, drawing out the words so long it was as if the scene itself played out before their eyes. "Now, just imagine! Shen Wansan’s face fell at once. He hurried to open the box, but inside—no luminous pearl, just a single gold leaf. Without anyone touching the box, under the eyes of all those guests, the treasure was spirited away. If that isn’t a disaster for Shen Wansan, I don’t know what is!"

At this, all present fell silent. If the beggar’s account was accurate, what extraordinary skill must Gold Leaf possess? Though the affair had nothing to do with them, a vague worry for Mingyue Manor crept into their hearts. The entire tavern was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. At that very moment, a voice from the corner called for the bill. By the time Old Du turned around, the mysterious figure who’d sat there alone was gone, vanished as if into thin air.

"Shen pays, yet he insists on settling up himself. And now he’s disappeared—just playing games with us, isn’t he?" the waiter grumbled, but duty was duty, and he moved to clear the table. He hadn’t even reached it when a sudden cry rang out: "Heavens! What—what is this?"