I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 586 - 586 585. Storyteller (Monthly ticket additional

Chapter 586: 585. Storyteller (Monthly ticket additional release!)_1 Chapter 586: 585. Storyteller (Monthly ticket additional release!)_1 “…The specific written documents will be notified for you to come and pick up, so just go home and wait.”

After seeing off the patient, Tang Yu typed the report on her computer. It was already noon and time for a lunch break, where doctors were either hitting the cafeteria to grab a meal, heating up their own brought-from-home lunch, or heading out to get a bite to eat.

Tang Yu took out her lunchbox and headed to the cafeteria to heat it up in the microwave there.

While she waited, she noticed a couple of young nurses next to her watching a video on their phone.

In the midst of their viewing, one of the nurses suddenly looked up and saw Tang Yu.

“Dr. Tang, you’re on TV!”

“Hmm?”

Tang Yu was puzzled; she leaned in for a closer look.

The video on the phone featured a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Tang Yu herself, swinging her fists with powerful force that seemed to leap through the screen.

“What video is this?”

asked Tang Yu, already forming some guesses.

“It’s the trailer for Lu Ban’s new movie. Dr. Tang, haven’t you seen ‘Peaceful Days in Spring’? Oh my, it’s so tear-jerking,”

the young nurse said.

“Let me see, what’s the title?”

As Tang Yu inquired about the preview, the microwave dinged. Her meal was heated.

With her lunchbox in hand, Tang Yu sat at the opposite end of the long table from the young nurses. Being a forensic doctor, many people in the hospital weren’t too keen to sit with her for a meal.

Of course, Tang Yu was used to it. Sometimes, after a major accident with many bodies to autopsy, she would go from dissecting bodies straight to heartily eating her lunchbox, without much concern for others.

Taking out her phone and putting on her earphones, Tang Yu opened her lunchbox.

The meal definitely wasn’t made by Tang Yu herself. Her Dad had been in charge of the home cooking for many years, and frankly, Tang Yu believed no one’s sweet and sour spareribs could beat her dad’s cooking skills.

Unfortunately, the day’s meal was stir-fried loofah with salt and pepper shrimp, which of course, also tasted quite good.

Tang Yu took a bite of her rice, now soaked in the delicious juices, and tapped on the video.

The video started with a storyteller dressed in a robe, holding a Shocking Hall Wood.

“In those days, amidst turmoil and suffering, at the foot of Jiangcheng Mountain, the Nine Streams gathered…”

Whack—

The Shocking Hall Wood clapped, accompanied by the rhythm of opera drums, and the curtain rose.

An old man wearing sunglasses sat at a table, holding scissors that cut out intricate designs of spring breezes and flora and fauna; the next moment, these cut-out figures transformed into real trees and animals, cherry blossoms bloomed, and birds soared—vivid and colorful.

“There’s the Paper-cutting Official whose snipping and folding breathes life into inert shapes, making them as lifelike as ever.”

As the paper birds flew towards the screen, Tang Yu jumped in her seat, instinctively leaning back to avoid them.

The scene transitioned using the birds and shifted to an overweight man in a Western-style suit and mandarin jacket, holding a complex compass-like device.

“There’s the Mountain-moving Dragon Seeker, the Tomb Exploring Root Seeker, the Divining Gold and Determining Burial, known as the Tomb-Robbing Colonel.”

On the mountain, the man’s compass whirled efficiently until he quickly made a discovery, pointing straight ahead.

The camera followed his pointing finger and revealed an old man carrying a large chest, nimbly climbing the rugged stone-strewn and winding mountain path, moving as if on flat ground, swift in his steps.

“There’s the Hundred Miles Walker, light as a swallow, marching a thousand miles by day, the essence of speed in warfare.”

As the white-haired old man reached the mountain peak, the camera passed over his shoulder to welcome the sunrise.

Beneath the morning sun lay a bustling and thriving city, bustling with activity.

The camera then settled beside a man hanging a Feng Shui numerology sign, proclaiming him a fortune-teller.

“With Yin Yang Eyes, Feng Shui Numerology, fortunes and disasters—direct and unequivocal verdicts.”

The Feng Shui master saw that some people were enveloped in dark auras, others exuded an overwhelming presence of wealth. Destiny is preordained, not to be forcibly demanded.

He quickly noticed a person weaving through the crowd, eyes sly. In the blink of an eye, he already had an extra wallet in his hand, scattering its contents to the begging beggars around him.

“There’s Star-picking, the art of empty-handed theft, robbing from the rich to aid the poor, the gentleman on the beam.”

The camera followed the banknotes into the alley, where it abruptly revealed a corpse on the ground, a hand holding a scalpel, meticulously dissecting. The scene shifted to a woman. She put down the scalpel and threw a punch at the wooden dummy with a force that was staggering.

“There’s a Corpse-sewing Craftsman, preparing corpses for burial, subduing ghosts and specters, Iron Fist unbeatable.”

As the woman threw her punch, the Shocking Hall Wood was struck down once more.

“There’s a storyteller, criticizing the present by recounting the past, speaking with eloquence, as persuasive as a reed pipe.”

The scene returned to the storyteller’s small stage, the lighting dim, with just two boldly written characters making a resounding statement.

“Nine Streams.”

This preview had a strong traditional Chinese flair, showcasing the extraordinary individuals from within the city, evoking a feeling reminiscent of folk tales.

Tang Yu saw that the Corpse-sewing Craftsman did bear some resemblance to herself, and also a bit to her mother, the sort of look that marked her clearly as a member of the Tang Family.

No wonder those young nurses were saying Tang Yu was on television.

“He actually did it?”

Tang Yu remembered Lu Ban saying that he wanted to make a movie about the Nine Streams.

Where did he find these actors? They all really seemed to have the right vibe.

Tang Yu watched the preview again while eating her meal.

Even though the preview only showcased the distinctive features of each Nine Streams school, the overall artistic style was quite captivating, with transitions using ink wash and rice paper to create a strong traditional Chinese aesthetic. To use the popular terminology of the day, it was very trendy.

The music, too, a blend of traditional opera storytelling and new rock elements, was full of charm.

Without any story, the showcase of the Nine Streams, along with the city and its inhabitants, sketched out a chaotic era with superpowered individuals coming to life in the shadows of history.

Tang Yu, with some knowledge of the Nine Streams, finished watching and was quite looking forward to what kind of story Lu Ban would tell, while those young nurses chattered excitedly, discussing the contents of the preview.

“This is the first time Lu Ban is tackling this genre; I wonder what role he will play?”

“I think the old man who runs really fast looks quite handsome. I love mature men like that.”

“Tsk tsk, you’ve had a thing for older guys for more than a day or two.”

Uh, Tang Yu didn’t quite understand the thinking of the younger generation.

The preview spread further, and more and more people saw it.

In the afternoon when Tang Yu was at work, she felt that the way people were looking at her was a bit strange.

She asked the next patient to come in. As the young man entered and saw Tang Yu, he suddenly paled with shock.

“I-I’m not dead, don’t dissect me, please!”

“?”

Tang Yu glanced at the medical record. This guy had come to get a report on an injury from a delivery accident; his brain should be fine, right?

Or perhaps he had damaged his brain in the fall, making it more serious?

At that moment, a familiar tune came from the young man’s phone.

It was the background music of the “Nine Streams” preview.

*

First batch of bonus chapters for December’s monthly votes, 2/3