Chapter 161: A Hundred Stories in the Mist and the Moon (2)

The moonlight shone on Chu Hengkong's head, making him feel a little cool. Beyond the moonlight, it was all pitch black, but he could feel the audience's secret gazes on him.

In such an environment, storytellers always feel a little pressure, because there is no light or fire in the despairing wilderness, and speaking to the darkness is like talking and laughing with ghosts.

He was a killer, not a storyteller, and he didn't have any unusual ideas. So, imitating the casual conversation of teahouse guests, he began leisurely, "I'll tell you a little story to pass the time..."

After dinner, filled with wine and food, the young and old chatted and picked their teeth. The people around them and the people in the newspapers were uninteresting, but the interesting people were in the streets and alleys, in the corners of the market. There was Yang, the tea vendor, Li, the whitewasher, and Zhang, the clay figurine maker. Those with unique skills and personality were considered "unique" by the people, and their uniqueness was talked about with great relish.

The strange man we are talking about today is not from Tianjin, but has traveled across the ocean to New York City, America. He is known as the "Courier", a professional errand boy.

In metropolitan areas, people are so busy and overwhelmed that even eating out is a luxury. Taking 30 seconds to call the restaurant and have the errand boy pack and deliver is a rare luxury. But people, both Chinese and foreign, prefer hot food. Waiting ages for cold food is a real letdown. Forget about tipping the errand boy. If you encounter a bad-tempered errand boy, you might even waste another precious minute by calling the restaurant and yelling at them.

Whether you are the cook, the server or the eater, if you encounter this situation, you will curse your bad luck. Those who know more will sigh and say: I should have hired a courier earlier!

The delivery guy was originally a pizza delivery guy. He became famous, and other restaurants started asking him for help. He was a young man from Asia, and his delivery was fast and efficient. He always made sure his customers had hot food, no matter how hot the food was when it arrived at the restaurant. But his most terrible mistake was delivering a cold dish, not a hot one.

There was a power outage at the 75th Police Precinct in Brooklyn. The 34-degree heat was making the officers swelter like pigs. The newly promoted precinct commander, with a wave of his hand, paid for ice cream for everyone to cool down. The massive order for over 300 ice creams had the staff sweating profusely. Not only was the sheer volume difficult to deliver, but the main thoroughfare was jammed that day. No matter how many ice packs were packed in, they would have melted into syrup by the time they were delivered.

The money earned was a minor issue; getting in trouble with the police was a major concern. The area was insecure, the cops were grouchy, and the errand boys were shrewd; no one wanted to take this unlucky job. Time was running out, and the police order was about to fail. The store manager, desperate, called the courier for help. "Can you deliver it in half an hour?" he asked.

“Okay,” the young man said.

Soon, the delivery man arrived. He wasn't on a bike, but he was wearing a baseball cap. The store manager was explaining to the store manager, "You ordered too much. We'll make and deliver in batches and take our time." After the call, he looked up, and both the man and the ice cream box were gone. The store manager ran out, but the street was still gridlocked with traffic, and the alley was deserted. The box was so big it could fill the back seat of a bus. How could it have vanished?

The store manager ran around everywhere but couldn't find a single person. He thought he was done for. But when he returned to the front door, he saw the courier and the empty boxes had returned to the store, and the staff were already loading the second batch. The young man quietly pulled out his phone and flashed a photo he'd taken five minutes earlier: the cops wiping sweat while grabbing ice cream. It was to tell him not to worry; the items had been delivered without a doubt; they weren't lost or melted.

Each box contained over a hundred ice creams, and the round trip took ten minutes. In half an hour, they delivered exactly three hundred, all on time. When the last batch arrived, the store manager abandoned his duties and hung a pair of binoculars at the door, peering in. He finally saw what was happening: the delivery man lifted the massive box with one hand, scurried up the wall like a monkey, and sprinted straight across the rooftop.

The whole gang was incredibly impressed. After the delivery, the store manager handed out a $100 tip without hesitation. His notoriously stingy wife didn't even say a word, thinking it was well-deserved! But the courier never accepted tips. He worked honestly to earn his keep and had his own rules. He always took what he was supposed to take for each order; charging even a penny more was outrageous.

The courier refused to charge more, but considering the distance, the delivery was only worth ten dollars. The store manager felt that this was not a proper way to handle things. He looked around and saw that there was still some ice cream left on the counter.

After a while, the delivery man walked away holding a four-ball ice cream cone and ten dollars in his pocket.

"...A few years later, the courier had a different experience and went to work for a large company. However, the ice cream shop remained open. Occasionally, when he passed by Brooklyn, he would buy a cone from the shop." Chu Hengkong clasped his hands together. "That's the end of the second story. I am Chu Hengkong."

Pa-pa-pa! The rustling of wooden sticks scraping against the ground echoed from the darkness. The next story hadn't begun yet, so it wasn't against the rules to talk now. The monsters whispered among themselves.

"I haven't heard anything like this in a long time." "It's quite interesting..." "It's quite fresh."

Some monsters were dissatisfied: "Any mutator can do this job."

"That makes sense. When you were a handyman, you were happy to run errands?" Wolfka said teasingly.

"You remembered it wrongly. I used to be the cornerstone."

"Well, you're even more useless."

"screw you!"

As they chatted and joked, the gloomy and depressing atmosphere dissipated considerably. Ji Huaisu nudged his partner with his elbow and chuckled slyly, "Were you a delivery boy before?"

"That job actually pays quite well," Chu Hengkong said. "By the time I changed careers, I had almost saved enough money to buy a house."

The venue began to rotate again, and the participants fell silent. The next person to be illuminated by the moonlight was the meat-like monster. Its tone was gloomy, but it told a humorous story about a fat man's various interesting experiences in the circus.

The flesh monster told the story poorly, making the cheerful story sound dull and lifeless, like a funeral procession. This story wasn't well-received by many. The moonlight shone upon the man who had merged with the tree, and he began to tell strange stories about the man-eating forest...

Time passed by minute by minute, and happy stories became rare, with most stories tinged with strangeness. Under the rotation of the moonlight, the atmosphere returned to the beginning, almost suffocating. Until the moonlight shone on the Eye Demon, Finder stood up excitedly and patted the straw mat: "Hey, it's finally my turn! I won't let you down!"

·

At the same time, above the sea of ​​sand.

Two dark figures, one thin and one fat, were walking in the vast sea of ​​white sand.

The thinner man wore a black hooded suit, his face hidden by a metal mask beneath the shadow of the hood. He wasn't actually thin, and his build was considered robust, but walking next to his companion, he looked frail. His companion was 1.5 meters wide and 2 meters tall, his face as square as his.

The square-faced man, named Luohun, held a small book in his hands. He turned the pages with his thick fingers and sighed, "Mr. Yexing, with your considerable abilities, why would you resort to such labor? I'm more than enough."

"There is no distinction between high and low jobs," said Ye Xing.

“Someone does.”

"We are all losers, there is no difference."

"That's right. That's right..." Luohun said boredly, "You're walking too fast... Now, the Hundred Monogatari isn't over yet. Let's slow down."

Both men slowed down their pace and slowly walked towards the sand vortex that led to the valley. They were here to complete a routine task, instructed by the Nightmare King.

·

The deep valley under the sea, the venue of the Hundred Stories.

As the moonlight flickered, stories flowed one after another. Chu Hengkong listened attentively, having already grasped the significance of this activity.

The stories the monsters tell fall into two categories. The first is the "new stories" they invent. Regardless of the subject matter, these stories are imbued with pessimism and despair, as if the creators themselves were about to burst into tears while writing them. These forcedly cheerful stories are naturally far from entertaining and simply taste like chewing wax.

The second type involves stories deeply connected to their appearance, like Wulfka's stories of the beast in the mist and the tree people's stories of the man-eating forest. These stories are rich with emotion and told vividly, but few, except for newcomers, are well-received. This is because they are the stuff of nightmares, and monsters see nightmares replaying every night. Who wants to hear them again?

There were many storytellers, but few stories worth hearing. So, by the end, few monsters were interested in telling stories, and Moonlight revolved around the three newcomers. Captain Ji's story about the Huilong City case ran out of ink after five episodes, and then he started writing "Pokémon Adventures." Chu Hengkong himself was no better, picking out classic stories from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms and telling them over ten episodes.

Fortunately, Finder was there. His chatterbox finally came in handy, pouring out a bellyful of stories like a fire sale, ranging from ancient scrolls and classics to local customs, from heroic legends to strange tales. Finder alone contributed over 30 stories in one sitting, leaving the group of monsters completely captivated.

The event was drawing to a close, and the 99th story had reached Finder. A monster quietly brought him a bowl of water to soothe his throat. The Eye Demon slurped his saliva and began to tell strange stories about demons: "This time, let's not talk about anything else, but the twists and turns of the Sea of ​​Illusion. Everyone knows that demons can only exert their power by relying on a contracted person. But legend has it that there's a terrifying demon who treats his contracted subjects as food, and no one who signs a contract with it has a good end..."

In just a few words, the Eye Demon painted a terrifying picture of a demon. It dwells at the very bottom of the Deep, in the deepest eye of the ocean. It cloaks itself in the world's most majestic imperial robe, a robe stitched from countless faces, the very faces of the fools who once signed a pact with it. It is said to be the ruler of all things in the sea, the king of the Land of Chaos. Though it resides at the bottom of the ocean, it controls everything in the world...

“…When it leaves the ocean, the entire Shendong world will be turned upside down!”

Vander shook his head as he spoke, and drank the water clean. He flapped his tentacles randomly, and his voice rose and fell, as if he were drunk.

"This story... Your Majesty... Can this be told?" Vander muttered to himself, "It seems not possible... I've said too much... Clear it, delete the memory... Delete..."

"What was I just saying... Anyway, it's over," said Vander. "The 99th story is over! I'm Vander."

Dusk flickered in its eyes for a moment, and Vander lay on the grass, looking listless and confused again. Ji Huaisu picked it up in the dark and threw it into his partner's hands.

"There's something wrong with Vander," she whispered.

"It hasn't been feeling well these past two days... We have to find a way."

Chu Hengkong took off his earplugs. Neither of them listened carefully to Vander's last story. Such strange stories involving the ocean, true or false, were not something they should be exposed to at their level. Vander was starting to lose control of his mouth, which was definitely not a good sign.

Fortunately, the story of a hundred things finally came to a close. After the final spin, the moonlight shone on Wolfka's right. It was the last person in the line, the giant who had infiltrated silently. He was so large that even sitting in the moonlight, it was difficult to see clearly. He laughed deeply and told the last story. Somehow, Chu Hengkong felt that his voice was familiar.

"Once upon a time, there was a lonely star.

The stars want to talk to others, but no one can understand their words.

It calls for a long time in the deep darkness, longing for life to accompany it.

A long time ago, there was a stingy old man.

The old man has a lot of wealth, but he is unwilling to share a penny with others.

It searches long and deep in the quiet of space, searching for secret treasures."

"One day, the old man met a lonely star.

The star was very happy because it finally encountered the Other.

As it watched the old man bury the treasure, it became more and more puzzled and bewildered.

Old man, you have many treasures, but only one person enjoys them.

How can you be happy without the company of others?

The old man tried to take out his treasures and give them to the poor and weak who were in need.

People, grateful for his generosity, ascended to the stars to live with him."

The storyteller clapped his hands gently, and the different sounds appeared together, in an orderly fashion, like the voices of children in a choir.

"The stingy old man gained happiness,

The lonely star found happiness.

Without sharing, all wealth will eventually turn to dust.

Without friendship, no matter how powerful you are, you will be lonely.

Many lives ascend to the stars because of love,

Love makes a lonely star into a beautiful moon!"

The chorus erupted in applause, filled with laughter. The dark moonlight gently cast its shadow, illuminating the narrator. He was a wealthy, elderly man dressed like a country gentleman, so large that ten people, hand in hand, could only hold him. His head rested against the cave ceiling, his back resting on half the sand. Next to this massive figure, an average person would only be the size of his shoe sole.

The old man lowered his head and looked at Chu Hengkong with a friendly and kind smile.

"The hundredth story is over," he said. "I am the Good Samaritan."

(End of this chapter)