Quick Transmigration: Underdog Turns out to be Untouchable

Because it’s been half a year since she left Wujia Town, and with Jian Shuangshuang’s drastic transformation, she looks completely different now compared to the last time she was here. Those who used to have their eyes on her in Wujia Town probably wouldn’t recognize her upon meeting.

Of course, Jian Shuangshuang doesn’t care anymore whether she’ll be recognized or not. If she’s not recognized, it’s their luck, and if she is, great, as it might bring in some extra income. He who robs shall himself be robbed, no problem.

This time, the shop Jian Shuangshuang chose was not as exploitative as the ones on Flower Street, and she didn’t spend much on buying two sets of clothes, which were exquisitely made and embroidered with realistic patterns.

After that, Jian Shuangshuang prepared a variety of random stuff, including a table, clapboard, and some assorted knick-knacks.

This time when Jian Shuangshuang returned to Flower Street, she deliberately found a spot not far from the largest restaurant on Flower Street, set up her table, and sat behind it, slapping the wooden block on the table.

Storytelling is a very common profession in this era, and storytellers often give a slap on the wooden block before telling their stories as a signal that the storytelling is about to begin, reminding the audience to focus their attention.

As soon as Jian Shuangshuang slapped the wooden block, people immediately knew what she was up to. Listening to the story didn’t cost anything, and the tips were given voluntarily, without anyone being forced.

So regardless of the story’s quality, several people gathered around Jian Shuangshuang out of idle curiosity, waiting to hear her storytelling.

Storytelling also has traditions, passed down from generation to generation. The stories include both classics and new tales, but the pace of updates is slow, so frequent listeners are generally familiar with these stories.

Jian Shuangshuang’s storytelling prowess was outstanding, able to weave captivating plots with ease. Even the melodramatic stories she made up casually when she wasn’t feeling well could mesmerize people.

Now, putting in her utmost effort, Jian Shuangshuang not only told stories but also added sound effects.

For example, when talking about horse riding, she’d mimic the sound of hooves; when talking about wind, she’d create blowing sounds. She seamlessly added various sound effects with the small items she had.

This novel storytelling approach, combined with completely new storylines, quickly drew in many people, surrounding Jian Shuangshuang in multiple layers shortly after she began.

Afraid of missing any part of Jian Shuangshuang’s story, everyone kept a silent agreement to remain quiet, eager to listen intently.

The female manager of the nearby restaurant, seeing a large crowd gathered in front of her place, curiously came over to check what was going on, wondering if there was a fight.

Even if there wasn’t any commotion, she would have needed to disperse the crowd, as it could negatively impact her business having people blocking her restaurant’s entrance.

But she ended up being drawn in by Jian Shuangshuang’s story, and after standing for a while, she had one of the staff bring a chair, tea, and snacks. She sat, eating, drinking, and listening, and eventually became so absorbed that she neglected the refreshments.

This time, Jian Shuangshuang didn’t plan to tell a short story; she stopped at a cliffhanger, saying, ”To know what happens next, listen to the next Chapter.”

When Jian Shuangshuang finished, everyone around her was left wanting more. However, being seasoned listeners, they knew that a storyteller couldn’t go on indefinitely — one, to keep the suspense, and two, for the storyteller’s own vocal rest.

Although they hadn’t had enough, they were still satisfied, tossing handfuls of copper coins into the money pot in front of Jian Shuangshuang, with Jian Shuangshuang’s sharp eyes catching sight of a few silver coins being thrown in.

Even though there were no gold coins, Jian Shuangshuang was already quite content. Getting gold coin tips would be a stroke of luck, and having a few silver coins was already quite good.

Someone even asked Jian Shuangshuang, ”Sir, will you have another session today?” In those days, storytellers were respectfully called ”sir” because they could read, implying they were cultured individuals.

Although this world favored martial prowess, it didn’t discriminate against scholars, for every aspect of a nation’s existence was inseparable from them. Thus, this world was indeed very kind to both scholars and martial artists alike.

More importantly, this world had never had cases of literary inquisition, allowing Jian Shuangshuang to take full liberties with her storytelling, without fearing that a wildly imaginative tale would lead to trouble.

Once one person asked, a whole group followed suit. Jian Shuangshuang thought for a moment and still shook her head, saying, ”There will only be one session today. If you want to hear more, you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

The crowd immediately sighed in disappointment. While some storytellers held two sessions a day, many only told one story per day. Not being able to hear the second part left them longing for more.

Hoping Jian Shuangshuang would remember to return the next day, people started to toss more and more money into her pot, with a few more silver coins dropping in.

As they gave money, they repeatedly reminded Jian Shuangshuang to remember to come back early the next day — even if she didn’t come early, she must come, as they were still eager to find out how the protagonist would resolve the crisis.

After the crowd dispersed, Jian Shuangshuang slowly began to tidy up things, starting with collecting the money. Most of it was copper coins, which added up to a hefty amount of more than thirteen hundred pieces, plus seven silver coins.

This income was quite satisfactory. Many storytellers, after narrating a session, would earn about three to four hundred copper coins, and with luck, one or two silver coins, though often without any silver coins at all.

This was the case for good storytellers; those who weren’t as skilled earned even less, with many unable to cover their meal expenses.

It’s just that there were too many copper coins, making it inconvenient to carry. While Jian Shuangshuang was worrying about where to find someone to exchange them for silver coins, the shopkeeper, who had been sipping tea, approached her.

She placed a silver coin in front of Jian Shuangshuang, kindly saying, ”Seeing that these copper coins are inconvenient for you, and I happen to be the shopkeeper of this restaurant needing change, why don’t I exchange them for a silver coin for you?”

The shopkeeper was a stunningly beautiful woman, with a slender waist that could barely be spanned by two hands. She was dressed in a simple, form-fitting long dress with a wide-sleeved robe draped over it, exuding an air of allure.

However, a white flame-patterned chest badge on her showed she was a Xuan Master, which was no surprise that she ran the largest restaurant on Flower Street. In Wujia Town, no one dared to provoke a Xuan Master.

”Thank you, Shopkeeper,” Jian Shuangshuang expressed her gratitude, counting out a thousand copper coins. The beautiful shopkeeper immediately had her assistant take the money.

Seeing Jian Shuangshuang continue tidying her things, the female manager engaged in conversation with her, ”I see it’s inconvenient for you to tell stories outside and have to pack up your things each time.

Why not come and tell stories in my restaurant? I can offer you a hundred copper coins per day and even store your items for you. It would save you the hassle, and I can assign a young assistant to serve you tea. Isn’t that better than being out here?”

Restaurants would regularly hire storytellers and singers; those who were skilled not only earned tips from customers but also received additional pay and service from the restaurant.