"Feng Wuhen."

In a quiet house, a woman with a gentle appearance softly read out these three words.

The room was very dim. In the middle of the room, there was a huge Tang sword, which had an indescribable murderous aura.

The woman was obviously beautiful, but the tone of her voice when she said these three words did not have the slightest tenderness and attachment, but was instead filled with a cold feeling.

I'm afraid no one would have thought that

in such a dark room, someone would actually read out these three words in such a tone.

[If Feng Wuhen was still alive, he would have to be killed, because this person has a perverse personality, and if there is any problem, he may be the next person to endanger the martial arts world. 】

On the letter in front of her, there was a line of words written, the strokes of the words were particularly sharp, as if they were outlined with murderous aura.

The woman slowly folded the letter, put it into a piece of letter paper, and wrote two words on the letter paper.

【Ye Qing. 】

"Feng Wuhen..." she said slowly, "In this case, I'm afraid you have no way to escape, right?"

"Besides, grandpa once said..."

"Feng Wuhen, but he is the coldest person in the world."

...

Feng Qing suddenly sneezed in the inn.

"Oh my god, who is cursing me behind my back?" She looked around, found nothing, and lowered her head to continue watching the show.

The only advantage of Feng Qing in this life may be his big heart.

So she forgot the conversation she had with Xiaobai that day as soon as she finished speaking.

Feng Qing has been living a very happy life since she came to the ancient times, but when people are happy, they tend to forget things easily.

Since she traveled through time, she has lived her life as she pleases, sleeping until she wakes up naturally, eating whatever she wants, and having no work pressure, so naturally she has almost forgotten all the unhappy things that happened before.

Recently, Feng Qing has been in such a good mood that she even picked up a hobby she had when she first traveled through time.

- Listening to books.

An activity that only requires exercising your ears is very suitable for lazy people like Feng Qing.

It has to be said that if you want to understand a world more deeply, then the best way is to listen to some folk stories, strange novels, and the like related to this world.

Feng Qing only realized this deeply after traveling through time. From the storytellers, she could hear about the various aspects of the people in this world.

In fact, in this world, in addition to the heroes, there are more ordinary people, and Feng Qing has the most contact with these ordinary people in her daily life.

The girl selling pancakes at the door, the aunt selling buns, the vendors carrying things... and so on.

These people will always be the most basic component of this world.

They will not appear in any heroic deeds, but they are indispensable in any story.

Among the merchants on this street, the one who communicates most frequently with Feng Qing and his inn is the tavern closest to their inn.

Feng Qing has always been a kind person.

One thing that many people in the underworld don't understand is that the Wuming Inn gets along very well with other merchants on this street.

Although the underworld people are very afraid of the shopkeeper, the aunts and uncles, boys and girls on this street all have a good impression of Feng Qing.

As long as Feng Qing is mentioned, everyone will say "It's her, the inn owner who doesn't like to talk but has a good temper."

Among these neighbors, the one that has the best relationship with the inn is actually the tavern opposite the Wuming Inn.

It is also the tavern where Feng Qing listens to stories most often.

Because Feng Qing spent too much money on the storyteller in the tavern opposite the inn, and the two are neighbors, she has long been regarded as a guest of honor, or an existence like an extra staff member.

Feng Qing even has her own exclusive seat for listening to books across the street. She can come and go whenever she wants.

The white-bearded storyteller has already recognized Feng Qing, and Feng Qing can hear all kinds of gossip from him from time to time.

The old man seems to know that Feng Qing likes to listen to some old stories the most, so he often tells them to her.

Feng Qing is very moved by the old man's thoughtful gesture. After all, for a social phobia like her who almost never goes out, the only way for her to get news about those handsome heroes is in places like this.

Just when the neighborly relationship between the inn and the tavern developed to the point where Feng Qing could order whatever she

wanted when she went to the tavern to listen to stories, and the tavern could come to the inn to borrow vinegar without asking... One day, Feng Qing was sitting in the audience listening to stories while drinking her Coke.

She was thinking while drinking, the storyteller seemed to never finish talking, and she had been listening here for a month, and she had never heard the same story.

When a story was finished, the

whole room applauded. The storyteller walked down from the stage, his head was full of sweat.

Feng Qing, who was an extra staff member, threw a handkerchief from the side and looked at the storyteller wiping his sweat while asking a question she had been thinking about for several days.

"Come to think of it, I'm actually very curious, how do you know the deeds of those heroes?"

The old man was stunned for a moment, and suddenly showed a mysterious smile, "Guess."

"Guess." Feng Qing pondered secretly.

Storytellers are definitely not good at light work, but every time something happens, they seem to see it clearly.

In this world, this group is definitely a mysterious organization, and the stories they tell can often be unified in a very short time.

No matter where in the world, as long as only one storyteller knows a story, then other storytellers will know it.

This terrible efficiency is simply a mystery.

Could it be that they have another mysterious organization?

"How is that possible?" The storyteller smiled, "If we had that ability, then why are we still telling stories here?"

When Feng Qing heard this, he thought it made sense.

…But this question came back again.

She asked curiously, "Where do these stories come from?"

The storyteller who had been with Feng Qing for a while and was already very familiar with her smiled slightly.

Then, he told Feng Qing an industry insider that shocked her whole family.

"Indeed, there are no secrets in this world, and even if there are secrets, they will be discovered quickly."

"Most of the stories we know are passed down by word of mouth."

"But there is still a small part, which is deeply hidden and we will never know."

"So we have another way."

"Make it up."

Feng Qing was so shocked that she fell back.

This is also possible?

"Wait, you're just making up stories..." Feng Qing asked in a very low voice, "Aren't you afraid that those heroes will come to your door?"

"Of course, they are. After all, with their skills, we'll probably lose our lives if they do that." The storyteller laughed again, "But... we have another way."

"What is it?"

"Even if we're making up stories, we'll only make up stories about dead people."

Feng Qing leaned back again.

The storyteller's face showed a smile like an old fox, "No matter how powerful a person is, he's just a pile of bones when he dies. How can they come to me?" "

It doesn't matter if you're a meritorious general, a stunning beauty, the leader of a demon cult, or the head of a famous and upright sect... Once a person dies, there's nothing left."

"In life, there are many things that are hard to let go of, but as long as you think like this, you will be able to let go."

The storyteller said, turning his head and looking at Feng Qing with a smile, "Besides, there are so many famous and upright heroes. We won't say anything bad about them. We are just making a living. I guess those heroes won't care about us who are like ants in their eyes."

Feng Qing has been traveling for several months, but this is the first time she has felt such a sense of martial arts in her daily life.

She looked at this old storyteller who had been telling stories for who knows how many years, and suddenly felt a little emotional.

Even the storytellers in the martial arts world seem to have a little martial arts temperament. This feeling is not unpleasant, and Feng Qing likes it very much.

"Then don't you usually have to think of some stories to tell others?" Feng Qing asked with a smile.

"Yes." The storyteller pointed to his gray hair and said, "Do you see my hair?"

He smiled and said, "Actually, it wasn't so white two years ago. It turned white because I kept thinking about what story to tell."

Feng Qing looked at the storyteller's face and shook her head with emotion.

However, she suddenly seemed to think of something and was stunned for a moment.

"Wait a minute."

"What's wrong?" The storyteller looked at Feng Qing who suddenly changed her expression and asked.

"I seem to remember that there is something in my inn." Feng Qing murmured.

After she finished speaking, she ran back, leaving the storyteller sitting there alone, not knowing what Feng Qing was going to do.

"I remember it was in here... ah, I found it." Feng Qing flipped out a file, blew off the dust on it, and choked her.

"Ahem, it's not bad, it wasn't lost." Feng Qing patted the cover of the file with some emotion, "This thing takes up space here, I might as well give it to him."

There are many crews that have filmed in Feng Qing's inn, and they left behind all kinds of strange things.

Compared to those things, "a script" is actually very ordinary.

This is a script left by a small web drama crew. Feng Qing heard that only actors in more formal crews can get the script.

But to be honest, Feng Qing had never seen many serious crews, so she didn't know much about the rules of large crews.

She knew that some crews always asked her to run errands, including printing scripts. They would print out more than a dozen copies, and the rest would basically be left in the inn as waste paper.

Feng Qing flipped open the script and took a look.

——Well, a very simple and clear brainless script, which is also very suitable for the small internet celebrity crew to recover.

This story is about a Mary Sue, who is the white moonlight in almost everyone's mind. The male protagonists and male supporting actors around her all like her.

Of course, this kind of liking is almost unreasonable, but in the script, it is all explained by personal charm.

Feng Qing had already seen this kind of script a long time ago, or even modern people have seen it a lot, but if it was set in ancient times, it would still be very impactful. After all, this was an era when even The Western Chamber Chronicles had to be read secretly behind people's backs.

Feng Qing was almost certain that this extremely vulgar script would have caused a lot of murder in ancient times.

She returned to the tavern and gave this thing to the storyteller.

"This..." The storyteller was slightly stunned, and Feng Qing waved it casually, "Don't worry too much, this thing was originally kept in our inn, and I guess no one will need it anymore, just put it in your book."

"This, how can I be so embarrassed?" The storyteller was still a little confused.

"Well, just take it." Feng Qing forcefully stuffed the huge stack of papers into the storyteller's hands.

Actually, this script is still set in modern times, but Feng Qing knows that modern things will be restored to ancient things in the eyes of ancient people, so she is not worried at all.

Although she looks like a taciturn person at ordinary times, she is actually quite generous to some people she likes, and sometimes she is so generous that she is a little stupid.

The storyteller turned over the paper, and Feng Qing saw his eyes suddenly light up, and immediately thought to herself, it works.

"How is it? Is this story exciting?"

Although the storyteller did not speak, his eyes had already betrayed his inner excitement.

Seeing how happy the master was, Feng Qing felt happier too, and ate more melon seeds than usual.

After she finished eating, she went back to the inn without caring about what would happen to the script. Feng Qing was the kind of person who kept her word. Since she had said she would give it to the storyteller, she would not ask what the storyteller did with it.

After Feng Qing returned home, the storyteller hurriedly took the stack of papers upstairs, found the owner of the tavern, and discussed with him.

"Since he gave it to you, then you can tell it." The tavern owner with a mustache said, "By the way, according to the original plan, whose book were you supposed to tell tomorrow?"

The storyteller counted on his fingers, then he paused for a second and said a name.

...

"Ye Guangbai?"

The tavern owner turned around and looked at him.

"It seems that this person has been dead for about a hundred years, right?" said the tavern owner.

The storyteller nodded.

"Isn't that perfect?" said the boss who also knows a lot about storytelling.

"Let's go with him."