Heroine, don't turn back, I'm just a farmer.

Dasheng, Xiapi State, Huaiyin City.

Starting from Langya in Qingzhou, Lu Guo arrived at Huaiyin City in Xiapi State in five days.

In reality, he farms, feeds chickens, and chops firewood in Jiangjia Village, enjoying a pastoral life. The swordsman reads the books that Madam Xue has collected over the years at Qingluo Manor. So this time, he uses his own character, the master thief Hua Wuque.

Just like in Qingzhou, the various buildings in Huaiyin City had their own functions, just as they did when he first entered the adventure. However, this time he was using the identity of a master thief, which made exploring and gathering intelligence much easier than for a swordsman.

"Not only is there a regular encounter in Huaiyin City, but there is also a future famous general."

According to the normal logic of the adventure, one should first go to places like teahouses and taverns to gather firsthand information before it is possible to obtain intelligence through conversations.

"The information about that Xuanpin seems to be from the Cloud Tower."

Lu Guo recalled the fixed encounter in Huaiyin City in the game.

He walked toward a restaurant in the city.

Before long, he was standing in front of the building.

Looking up, it was a three-story restaurant with vermilion pillars, upturned eaves, and a black plaque with gold characters on a black background hanging above the door. The three characters "Yunxiao Lou" were written in strong and elegant strokes, and a seal was stamped at the bottom with the words "Jianghuai First Restaurant" in large seal script.

The waiter at the door was dressed in a clean brown shirt, with a white cloth draped over his shoulder and a standard welcoming smile on his face. He would bow and invite people inside as soon as he saw them.

As usual, he didn't rush in; instead, he walked around the Cloud Tower first.

Behind the building was a narrow alley, piled with wine jars and miscellaneous items. There was a half-open back door through which one could see the kitchen stove glowing red, with several cooks chopping vegetables and tossing food in the wok. Most of the windows on the second and third floors were closed, with only a few facing the street half-open, from which one could faintly hear laughter and conversation.

On the side wall of the building, there was a yellowed notice that read, "Every day at noon and 5 pm, the storytelling hall on the first floor will be filled with old storytellers recounting strange tales of the martial arts world." The handwriting was messy, as if it had been written casually.

There is nothing unusual, at least not on the surface.

After finishing his exploration, he walked to the door, where a waiter greeted him: "How many guests are in your party, sir?"

"One."

"Should we prefer the open seating on the first floor or the private rooms on the second floor? The first floor is lively, while the second floor is quiet."

In order to gather information, the more people there are, the better. The news about Xuanpin is related to a secret story about the martial arts world told by the storyteller in this building.

"Alright, please come in—"

The lobby on the first floor was much larger than he had imagined. Dozens of tables were arranged in a staggered manner, and in the center was a wooden platform about half a person's height. On the platform were a table, a chair, and a gavel, which were the tools of a storyteller. At this time, there was still a quarter of an hour before noon, and the lobby was already filled with sixty or seventy people, mostly martial arts practitioners, but also some merchants and a few scholars.

Lu Guo found a seat by the window and ordered a pot of tea and a plate of osmanthus cake. The tea was the cheapest coarse tea, but the osmanthus cake was exquisitely made, steaming hot, and the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms melted in his mouth with each bite.

[Enjoying Yunxiaolou Osmanthus Cake: Stamina recovery speed +10%, lasting half an hour.]

"..." Lu Guo.

He felt he could no longer distinguish between the game and reality.

Even food has buffs; this game's adventure features are truly detail-obsessed.

As he ate, he observed his surroundings. The best spot was next to the storyteller's stage, which was already full of people. Judging from their clothes, they were all people from the martial arts world. Several men with knives at their waists glanced at the stage from time to time, clearly there for the old storyteller.

Has Xuanpin's information already been leaked?

Lu Guo's gaze swept across the crowd and then suddenly stopped.

A scholar sat in the corner.

He was in his forties, wearing a blue robe, his hair casually tied up with a wooden hairpin. On the table in front of him was a pot of wine and a dish of peanuts. He had his eyes closed, as if he was pretending to sleep, or as if he was hiding something.

His fingers rested on the edge of the table, tapping out a gentle rhythm.

Lu Guo noticed his fingers—the knuckles were large, the fingertips had thick calluses, the back of his hands had wrinkles, but his palms were warm and smooth like jade.

[Telepathic Connection: This person's martial arts skills far surpass yours.]

The old man seemed to sense his gaze; his eyelids twitched, but he didn't open them.

Just then, another person entered through the door.

Dressed in a moon-white gown, the mysterious female guest entered the lobby with unhurried steps, glanced around indifferently, and then headed straight for the second floor.

[A meeting of minds: This person is just as good as you.]

She didn't look at Lu Guo, and Lu Guo didn't look at her either.

The noon bugle call sounded.

There was one more person on the storytelling stage.

No one saw how the person got up there. The stage was empty just moments before, but as soon as the bell rang, an old man, over seventy years old, sat down in a chair. His face was full of wrinkles, and his eyelids drooped as if he was about to fall asleep at any moment. He was wearing a patched, coarse linen long gown with worn-out cuffs, but he was holding a folding fan in his hand, with a plum blossom painted on the fan.

"Quite elegant."

The noisy sounds in the lobby fell silent instantly, as if cut by a knife.

"Dear guests, thank you for your patience."

"But today we won't talk about romance, I'll tell you a secret."

The old man's voice wasn't loud, but every word was clearly audible to everyone present. It wasn't the kind of clarity that comes from shouting, but rather a strange penetrating power, as if his voice could bypass all obstacles and reach the eardrums directly.

Lu Guo felt a chill run down his spine.

This is not ordinary storytelling skill; it is inner strength.

The fact that the old man could project his voice with such penetrating power indicates that his internal energy cultivation had reached a considerably high level—at least first-rate, or even higher. From any perspective, this storyteller was definitely not an ordinary person.

Ten years ago, there were three things in the martial arts world that everyone wanted, but no one dared to have.

He paused, his droopy eyelids lifted slightly, and something seemed to flash across his cloudy eyes.

"The first thing is a knife; the second thing is a booklet; the third thing is an old story."

[Triggering Scene Event: The Storyteller's Tale.]

[Hint: The information in this story may be related to a serendipitous encounter; please listen carefully.]

Lu Guo put down his teacup and leaned forward slightly.

"Let me tell you about that knife first." The old storyteller opened his folding fan and shook it gently. "That knife is called 'Listening to the Rain.' The blade is three feet and seven inches long, the back is three-tenths of an inch thick, and the edge is as thin as a cicada's wing. It is said that on the night the knife was forged, a torrential rain fell from the sky, and the swordsmith named it 'Listening to the Rain' the moment the knife was completed."

"The owner of this knife ten years ago was surnamed Shen."

"The eldest master of the Shen family, Shen Jinglan. There was a saying in the martial arts world at the time: 'When Tingyu is used, even ghosts and gods weep.' With this sword, Shen Jinglan reached the upper three realms and broke through the nine heavens before he was even thirty years old. He was recognized as the number one swordsman in the world."

"But," the old storyteller's voice suddenly lowered, "ten years ago, on a rainy night, Shen Jinglan was besieged and killed by the Demonic Sect, and the Listening Rain Blade disappeared without a trace."

"..." Lu Guo.

Isn't this exactly the information from my cheap master?

Lu Guo listened attentively.

Someone in the lobby couldn't help but ask, "How did he die?"

"Yes, their fate is unknown; they may not actually be dead."

The old storyteller didn't answer; he simply picked up the teacup on the table, took a sip, and slowly put it down.

"The second thing is a booklet."

"The booklet was called Zhiluozhai. It had a blue cover and was filled with names. After each name, there was a date, place, and a sum of money."

"Some call it the 'Book of Retribution' and others call it the 'King Yama's Register.' It is said that the book records the names of a group of loyal officials and the wealth they hid when the previous dynasty fell."

Remnants of the previous dynasty, their names, and their wealth.

This name doesn't sound like an ordinary ledger.

The old storyteller continued, "The last place this booklet appeared was a small town called Luomei Town, and no one has seen it since."

[You have obtained a clue to the Ming King's treasure, 1/100.]

The Ming King's Treasure?

Isn't this something related to the Ming Cult in the game? Lu Guo's back straightened.

"The third thing," the old storyteller's voice lowered further, "is a secret; you'll know if you listen, and you won't if you don't."

"It is said that seven hundred years ago, there was a tortoise-shaped black iron object at the bottom of the Huai River, weighing three hundred and sixty catties. Fishermen cast their nets, but every net came up empty; boatmen poled their boats, but every pole went dry. Everyone said it was the work of a water ghost."

"Until that year of severe drought, the Huai River dried up, and at the bottom of the river was an iron turtle with eight characters engraved on its back: 'The turtle sank to the bottom of the water, its merit lies in the hearts of the people.'"

"Later, Emperor Taizu of the Great Sheng Dynasty retrieved a scroll of silk from the turtle's belly, gaining supernatural powers, which led to this seven-hundred-year golden age..."

"..." Lu Guo.

It's a legend among old hands.

Whenever martial arts secrets are involved, it's always the same old routine: "The supreme martial arts master wields the Dragon-Slaying Saber, commands the world, and none dare disobey; without the Heaven-Reliant Sword, who can contend with him?"

Although the method is old, it's still incredibly effective.

After all, everyone hopes to be the lucky one.

What if I were to receive the same opportunity as the founding emperor of the Great Sheng Dynasty? The world would be like oil being poured on a hot fire, on the verge of chaos.

Upon hearing these words, the hall fell into a deathly silence. Among those present were many martial arts practitioners; while they held little reverence for the imperial court, they were still somewhat astonished to hear such remarks in this setting.

Today I heard something truly valuable.

However, not many people believed it. After all, the Great Sheng Emperor was seven hundred years ago, and they didn't care about that at all. What they cared about more was this so-called divine skill. The crowd suddenly made a commotion and wanted him to continue. But the old storyteller closed his folding fan and struck the gavel again.

That's all for today.

He stood up, his back hunched, and walked off the stage. A chorus of voices pleading for him to stay and whispering filled the hall, but he didn't turn back. He went straight to a corner and sat down.

You have obtained a clue to the Mysterious Pearl...

[Updated Clue: The storyteller's tale holds a secret. South of Huaiyin City, beneath Peng's blacksmith shop, lies information related to the legend of the Black Tortoise.]

[Hint: The storyteller's identity is unknown, but he saw through your swordsmanship foundation at a glance, suggesting he might be a reclusive master.]

Lu paused for a moment, then strode out of the Cloud Tower.