The Lucky Farmgirl
Chapter 175 - 164: Storybooks (520 Happiness, even though I’m still single)

Chapter 175: Chapter 164: Storybooks (520 Happiness, even though I’m still single)

The next day, Manbao spoke to Bai Shanbao with a sense of mystery, "There are bandits on the mountain."

Bai Shanbao turned his head with a swoosh, his eyes shining, his fists clenched as he asked, "Which mountain? Did you see them?"

"No, my fourth brother told me," Manbao replied, looking at him puzzled, "Why are you so angry?"

Bai Shanbao snorted and said, "I hate bandits the most. One day, I will kill all the bandits in the world."

Manbao nodded, "It’s wrong for bandits to rob, but you don’t have to kill everyone. Besides, can you really kill them all? No offense, but you can’t even fight as well as I can."

"That’s because I go easy on you since you’re a girl," Bai Shanbao exclaimed. "If I really tried, you definitely couldn’t beat me."

"Hmph, dare you to fight me at the door."

"You have to promise not to bite people first," Bai Shanbao said. He disliked fighting Manbao because every time he started losing, she would bite, and he couldn’t bite back, so he always lost.

Manbao felt a bit embarrassed but stubbornly said, "Fighting is all about winning by any means necessary. I never said you couldn’t bite me."

Bai Shanbao gritted his teeth, wanting to bite her right then.

Bai Shanbao snorted, turned his head away, and ignored her. He pulled over the books that were placed by her and took out some spare stones to reinforce the line between them, making it more apparent, "You are not to cross this line."

"I won’t cross it. Hmph!" Manbao dragged her stool a bit towards the edge, snorted at him too and then said, "Those bandits know martial arts, you know, the kind that allows them to swoosh through the air. You can’t even jump high, how are you going to fight people?"

Bai Shanbao was stunned, "Are bandits that powerful?"

"Of course!"

Keke, who had tempted the host to buy some storybooks: ...must be some wuxia novel from ancient times included in a storybook, it’s over!

Forgetting his anger, Bai Shanbao pulled over a stool and asked, "How did you know?"

"I... I heard it from someone, from a storyteller’s tale. Since it’s written in a book, it should be true," Manbao said.

Bai Shanbao wasn’t convinced because his family also had guards. When they moved from Longzhou, his grandmother even specially hired the escort services from a security agency, but he didn’t see them flying around either.

However, they didn’t encounter any highwaymen on the way and the travel was safe. Perhaps it was because they didn’t have the opportunity to show off their skills?

Bai Shanbao felt regretful. It would have been great if they had encountered robbers on their way; then he could have seen the security agency’s people fight.

Seeing that he did not believe, Manbao picked her favorite story to tell him. She loved to hear, see and, of course, tell stories.

Even though the books probably didn’t describe things as vividly, she added her own understanding and was so animated in her storytelling that not only Bai Shanbao but also the classmates around them were captivated.

Bai Erlang had quietly moved his stool next to Manbao, propped up his chin, and listened with rapt attention.

Mr. Zhuang, who had come to teach the children with his book, found the whole class gathering around Manbao, who was surrounded by everyone in the middle. Far from being worried, she was very excited, wishing she could stand on the table to tell the story.

But considering the teacher’s authority, she didn’t dare to do so, yet she still gestured vividly.

Just as Mr. Zhuang was about to knock on the door to remind them, he heard Manbao say, "It was a critical moment, Yuchi Gong swept his whip and knocked the enemy general off his horse..."

Bai Erlang couldn’t help clapping his hands and eagerly asked, "And then? What happened next?"

Manbao took her bamboo tube out of the Small book box, took a sip of water, and said, "Give me a moment to catch my breath."

Mr. Zhuang waited for Manbao to finish a section, after a climax, before knocking on the door.

The students turned their heads and saw Mr. Zhuang standing in the doorway, not knowing how long he had been there. The children scattered like frightened fish, and soon the people around Manbao were gone.

Mr. Zhuang said to Manbao, "Don’t leave after school today, come to my small courtyard."

Seeing Bai Shanbao at her side, he added, "Bai Shan, you come too."

The two kids exchanged glances and lowered their heads guiltily.

Mr. Zhuang didn’t scold them but enquired about the whole story and first asked Manbao, "Where did the story you told come from?"

"From a collection of stories."

Mr. Zhuang asked, "May I see it?"

Manbao asked Keke in her mind. Keke, having already rapidly scanned the storybooks she had bought and assured there was no inappropriate content, replied, "You may."

As for those nonexistent dynasties, that was all too easy to explain. To Keke, such storybooks were wildly inventive, created by humans of the 22nd century Earth Era following the narrative customs of the 19th and 20th centuries, yet mostly recounting tales from before the 16th century.

To Keke, other than the correct names of the characters, everything else in those stories was imagined. It must be that the host had bought too many books recently, so it failed to notice that the host actually purchased such worthless garbage. It should be more careful in the future, especially since the host was stingy and reluctant to spend credits. If it was to spend credits, they had better be well spent.

Perhaps it should consider getting books on various scientific agricultural techniques?

While Keke was quietly contemplating this, Manbao had squatted down pretending to search in the book box, then found and handed over the storybook to Mr. Zhuang.

After flipping through it, Mr. Zhuang realized that none of the dynasties mentioned were real, and even the timeline was all mixed up. This was not a real storybook but a fabricated chapbook.

How could children read such things?

Mr. Zhuang stroked his forehead and asked Manbao, "Did your family buy this for you? Is your family so well-off now?"

Manbao still used the books hand-copied by Mr. Zhuang because there weren’t many words yet, and Mr. Zhuang would copy them for her while practicing calligraphy.

Since he was copying for his beloved pupil, Mr. Zhuang didn’t use regular script but his favorite running script. Although it appeared a bit rushed, it was very beautiful, and Manbao liked it a lot.

Manbao said, "It’s not bought by my family; I exchanged for it myself."

Mr. Zhuang asked, "Exchanged with what?"

"With grass!"

Keke thought to itself: Correct, exchange grass for credits, credits for books.

Mr. Zhuang assumed she exchanged the Indian pennywort she pulled in the summer, which wasn’t very expensive. He didn’t scold her but still reminded her, "Don’t be so reckless in the future. Be careful not to be deceived. This is not a storybook but a fabricated chapbook. The dynasties mentioned inside have never been heard of. Reading it is useless and can be addictive. Don’t look at it anymore."

"But the people in it are so amazing, sir. Are those martial artists like described in the book, so skilled in lightness techniques that they can tread on snow without a trace, and walk on water?"