The journey back to the capital felt like a journey through a cycle of tension and tranquility. The previously shrouded atmosphere of tension, like a wisp of smoke, gradually dissipated in the breeze of time, leaving no trace. In its place was a sense of ease and joy, like the gentlest spring breeze, caressing everyone's heart and stirring their deepest joyful nerves.
Jiang Yan, the man who once attempted to save the day as a hero in times of crisis, had now shed his fleeting chivalrous air, naturally returning to his inner scholar. Along the way, he immersed himself in his own world, sometimes clutching a scroll emitting the scent of ink, as if transported to a temple of knowledge spanning time and space, engaging in soul-to-soul conversations with the ancients within. Sometimes he nodded slightly, as if expressing deep agreement with the ancients' wisdom; sometimes, his brow furrowed, as if pondering the world's problems with them. Or, he leisurely savored exquisite dim sum, the delicate flavors blossoming on his taste buds, each bite a rare moment of leisure after surviving a catastrophe, savoring the tranquility and comfort.
Young Marquis Su still carried his signature broadsword, resembling a perpetually energetic chivalrous warrior. He enthusiastically wielded it from time to time, brandishing it with vigor and ferocity. His movements, though a bit exaggerated, were endearingly charming and filled with a unique kind of amusement. Jiang Xiaohuang burst into laughter at his comical yet endearing appearance. His laughter, as clear and melodious as a silver bell, echoed joyfully in the air, adding a touch of vibrant color to the otherwise monotonous journey, seemingly tinging everything around them with a touch of joy.
One day, they arrived at a peaceful and tranquil town. The streets were not wide, but they flowed like a river, brimming with the vibrant atmosphere of life. A variety of small stalls lined the streets, like dazzling pearls. The hawkers' cries intertwined into a vibrant melody of the marketplace. Suddenly, they spotted a crowd gathered on the street from afar. The crowd formed a tight vortex, three layers deep, surrounding a focal point. The scene was bustling with activity, as if a grand and mysterious ritual were taking place.
"Mom, let's go take a look!" Jiang Xiaohuang's eyes instantly sparkled with curiosity, a light that shone like the brightest stars in the night sky. She held Nianli's hand tightly, her tone filled with eagerness, like an explorer about to discover a treasure. Nianli looked at her daughter's eyes full of anticipation, like a clear spring reflecting endless longing. Her heart was filled with doting, and she smiled and nodded gently.
Everyone then resorted to all their skill, scrambling like fish swimming upstream, to navigate the throng. Finally, they squeezed into the middle of the crowd. Looking closely, they saw a storyteller standing there, like the protagonist on stage, vividly recounting the fascinating story of "The Number One Scholar's Outsight Battle Against the Demonic Cult."
"Speaking of the number one scholar, Jiang Yan, holding a folding fan, he was graceful and elegant, like a banished immortal from heaven, exuding an otherworldly aura. Suddenly, he shouted, 'Let go of that girl!' The sound was as deafening as a bell, as if it carried a tremendous force, exploding through the air in an instant, frightening the members of the Demon Cult so much that they trembled in fear, their faces pale as if they had witnessed the most terrifying scene in the world..." The storyteller spoke with great excitement, his saliva flying, and his hands gesturing in the air, as if he wanted to vividly depict every scene in the story. His eyes revealed a kind of rapt immersion in the story, and every movement and expression was perfectly timed, drawing the audience into a world of fantasy and adventure.
Jiang Xiaohuang and Mo Chen glanced at each other inadvertently, and a smile that could not be suppressed flashed in each other's eyes. The smile was like ripples on the surface of a lake, gently rippling. When Jiang Yan heard this, his old face flushed slightly, like a ripe apple. He secretly felt that the storyteller's description was far from the truth, as if he had portrayed him as a legendary hero out of touch with reality. An impulse surged in his heart, and he couldn't help but want to go up and correct it and restore the truth of the matter. However, Nian Li was quick-witted and quick-handed. Her slender hand was like a soft barrier. She gently pulled Jiang Yan, with a gentle smile on her face, and said softly: "Dad, don't go. People are praising you. Why take it so seriously. Although this story is exaggerated, it also adds a bit of legendary color to you."
But Young Marquis Su couldn't contain the urge within him, a burning flame eager to burst forth. He pushed through the crowd like a ship breaking through the waves, squeezing to the front. Then, he exclaimed, "No, no! My brother-in-law was even more impressive back then! With one swipe of his fan, the force was so powerful that it sent the demonic leader's sword flying! That scene was truly breathtaking!"
The storyteller was engrossed in his tale, seemingly immersed in the world of Jianghu he had constructed. He was suddenly interrupted by the voice, and he was slightly startled. He turned his head and looked at the toy sword carried by Young Marquis Su, secretly speculating that some unruly person had come to disrupt the storytelling atmosphere. So, with a hint of displeasure, he said, "Sir, please don't interrupt me and spoil our enjoyment. If you have other matters, please go elsewhere."
"Who disturbed you?" Young Marquis Su's eyes widened, their gaze like two fireballs about to burst into flames, his face filled with dissatisfaction. "I'm serious! The scene at that time was absolutely true, not an exaggeration at all! You people have never seen my brother-in-law's power!"
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