Zhou Xuan kept waving his hand until Zhao Wuya was three or four hundred meters away from him, and Zhao became as small as a peanut. Then Zhou assumed a stance and recited the opening poem in a fairly normal voice,
"In a hundred years of life, countless paths unfold, Kings, lords, and immortals are made from mere mortals..."
After finishing reciting the poem, Zhao Wuya ran back over and said, "I heard it clearly, I heard it clearly."
"You heard every word clearly?"
"It's as if you were speaking right next to my ear." Zhao Wuya replied.
"That's good."
Zhou Xuan said, "Let's set it here. I'll go notify Old Hua later, and we'll have the Mingjiang Prefecture government set up a stage for storytelling here."
With the location settled, Zhou Xuan's work was considerably lightened.
The three of them headed towards East Market Street. As they walked, Zhao Wuya asked worryingly, "Brother Xuan, that elixir of yours, it must be very valuable, right?"
"It should be."
Zhou Xuan answered.
