SWDnovel Chapter 131 The Warmth and Simplicity of Cabacai
Chapter 131 The Warmth and Simplicity of Cabacai
Chapter 132 The Warmth and Simplicity of Cabacai
In the mornings in Tianjin, the wind carries the distinctive fishy smell of the Haihe River and the smell of coal smoke.
National Hotel, third-floor suite.
When Lu Cheng pushed open the door, the dozen or so packets of "Gaba Cai" were still steaming hot.
Inside the house, a group of teenagers had already finished practicing their skills and were staring eagerly at the door like hungry wolves.
Seeing Lu Cheng return unharmed, carrying breakfast in his hand, Xiao Douzi cheered first, while Shunzi breathed a sigh of relief, his tense muscles finally relaxing.
"Master, you're finally back!"
Shunzi came forward, took the oil paper package, and felt a weight in his hand; it was a real weight.
"Is everything alright outside?" Shunzi asked in a low voice. He had seen police officers running around on the street from upstairs and felt uneasy.
"fine."
Lu Cheng remained calm as he took off the blue robe that was slightly damp with morning dew and changed into his usual moon-white casual clothes.
"I ran into a few clueless people, and I dealt with them."
He spoke of it so casually, as if he were just swatting a few flies.
Shunzi didn't ask any more questions.
Having been in the Qingyun Troupe for a long time, everyone knows Master's temper. There's no need to ask what should be said, and don't pry into things you shouldn't ask.
"Eat it while it's hot."
Lu Cheng sat down and opened a bag of gabacai (a type of vegetable dish) on his own.
This Tianjin-style "Gaba Cai" is made by spreading mung bean flour into pancakes, cutting them into willow leaf strips, pouring on braised sauce, then drizzling on sesame paste, fermented bean curd sauce, and chili oil, and finally sprinkling on a handful of cilantro.
One bite, and you're greeted with a savory, spicy, and fragrant flavor, along with a soft and chewy texture.
Lu Cheng ate very slowly and carefully.
He was reminiscing about the battle he had just fought.
That instant of "the cicadas sense the autumn wind before it blows," that instant of "striking acupoints from a distance," that absolute control over every inch of the body's muscles and every bit of strength.
This is true mastery of neutralizing force.
He used to rely on brute force and the "cheat codes" provided by the system to crush others. Now, he has truly honed himself into a "sword".
A demonic sword hidden in its sheath, waiting to be drawn until it draws blood.
"Master, this breakfast in Tianjin is really salty."
Lu Ling's mouth was full, and she spoke indistinctly.
"It's better if it's salty."
Lu Cheng put down his chopsticks and looked out the window at the gloomy sky.
"Eating salty food gives you energy."
"There's going to be a big show tonight."
at the same time.
The Japanese Concession, Dengying Tower.
This is the premier restaurant in Tianjin, a favorite haunt of high-ranking officials, warlords, and foreigners.
Today, the entire Dengying Tower has been booked out.
A colorful archway was erected at the entrance, and a red carpet stretched all the way to the street. Two rows of people wore black silk jackets with bulging waistbands.
A burly man was greeting guests at the door.
He was a disciple of the Tianjin Martial Arts Association, and also a disciple and grand-disciple of Ma San.
On the top floor, in the most luxurious "Penglai Pavilion" private room.
Ma San, dressed in a deep purple embroidered mandarin jacket, sat on a grand chair, twirling two top-quality lion's head walnuts in his hands, his face gloomy.
He was good-looking, with a hooked nose, thin lips, and a shrewd air about him.
But those eyes were triangular, and they always seemed to have hooks in them when they looked at people.
Opposite him sat a short man dressed in a Japanese military uniform.
Major Takeda.
The actual commander of the Black Dragon Society's operation was also a ruthless figure who succeeded Colonel Tanaka.
"Baka!"
Takeda suddenly smashed the teacup in his hand to pieces, sending shards flying everywhere.
"Three! Three Jonin! And one of them is an assassin mastered by disguise!"
"Just now, on the main street of Nanshi, he was killed like a chicken!"
"The body was dumped in a stinking ditch by the roadside; the barber's throat had been crushed!"
Takeda was so angry that he trembled all over, and the muscles on his face twitched.
"Is this what you call foolproof?"
"So this is what you mean, Lu Cheng is just a theatrical performer?"
The walnut in Ma San's hand stopped spinning, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
Although he had defected to the Japanese, in front of these capricious and unpredictable Japanese officers, he was nothing more than a dog.
"Please calm down, Your Excellency."
Ma San quickly put on a smile, but in his heart he was cursing the dead assassins to the bone.
Useless! All of you are useless!
They can't even handle a mere opera singer, and they've only alerted the enemy!
"This Lu Cheng—he really is a bit strange."
Ma San swallowed hard, his eyes filled with malice.
"My master, Gong Baotian, once said that there are some people in this world who are born to practice martial arts; it's as if the patriarchs are chasing after them to feed them."
"This kid defeated all sorts of masters in Beiping, and even the heir of the Nalan family was defeated by him."
"We can't force it."
"Can't we force it?"
Takeda sneered and placed his hand on the command sword at his waist.
"Tonight is your 'retirement' ceremony."
"This is the first step in our Great Japanese Empire's strategy to control the martial arts world of Tianjin, and subsequently, the entire North China martial arts community!"
"If this Chinese guy ruins things, we'll both have to commit seppuku!"
Ma San trembled, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes.
"Don't worry, sir."
"Tonight, I have laid a trap for this Dengying Tower."
"I've arranged three hundred Axe Gang brothers in the lobby on the first floor. They're the kind of guys who go crazy at the sight of blood."
"Fifty gunmen are lying in ambush in the private rooms on the second floor. They are all old Lin Zi, whom I hired from Fengtian at great expense. Their marksmanship is divine."
"As for the third floor—"
Ma San pointed to the private room and then to the screen next to it.
"I've invited the three culinary wonders of Tianjin."
"Those were all notorious underworld bosses who made their name in their early years, and they killed people without blinking an eye."
"Plus the Black Dragon Society experts you arranged, sir—"
Ma San grinned maliciously, his face contorted in a grotesque manner.
"As long as Lu Cheng dares to come."
"I'll let him spare his life as a sacrifice for this 'washing hands of the martial arts world' ceremony!"
After hearing this, Takeda's expression softened slightly, and he nodded.
"very good."
"Once Lu Cheng is gone, the martial arts world in the north will be a mess."
"When the time comes, as long as you behave and hand over the secret manuals and inheritances of those sects, the Great Japanese Empire will not treat you unfairly."
"Of course, of course," Ma San nodded and bowed.
Just then.
A commotion arose downstairs.
A disciple covered in blood stumbled up, carrying a still-dripping package in his hands.
"Chairman—Chairman!"
"What's going on? Why are you all so flustered? What kind of decorum is this!" Ma Sanyi frowned.
"Outside—someone has delivered a congratulatory gift."
The disciple's face turned deathly pale, as if he had seen a ghost.
"It's said to be—it's said to be a 'warm-up appetizer' for you."
Ma San's heart skipped a beat, and an ominous premonition welled up in his mind.
"Open!"
The disciple, his hands trembling, unwrapped the package.
"Splash!"
The cloth bundle was opened.
Three bloody human heads rolled out.
It was the barber, the candied hawthorn vendor, and the laborer who were killed by Lu Cheng in the South Market that morning.
The barber's eyes were still wide open, his face contorted in death, and the silver dollar Lu Cheng had given him was still stuffed in his mouth.
"ah--!"
Ma San was so frightened that he sat down on the ground with a thud, and the walnut in his hand rolled over to the side of the man's head.
Takeda's face was also ashen, but as a soldier, he had better composure, though the veins on the back of his hand holding the sword bulged.
Inside the package was a red slip of paper.
A line of wild cursive script was written in blood above, each character exuding murderous intent:
At 9 PM tonight, Mr. Lu arrived at the banquet on time.
With these three heads, Chairman He Ma ascends to heaven!
Night falls.
The neon lights of Tianjin Wei lit up, dyeing the night sky of this former foreign concession a kaleidoscope of colors, exuding a decadent and decadent atmosphere.
The area in front of Dengying Tower is bustling with traffic.
Heroes from all walks of life, gang leaders, compradors from the foreign concessions, and even many renowned martial arts figures dressed in long robes and mandarin jackets all walked in with invitations in hand and complicated expressions.
Everyone knows that tonight's meal won't be good.
This is a trap.
Ma San is forcing everyone to choose sides: either become traitors, or—don't even think about leaving this place.
"Alas, times have changed."
An old Tai Chi master sighed at the entrance, looking at the magnificent gatehouse as if it were a man-eating monster.
"Let's go. What's meant to be will be, and what's meant to be will be."
The Baguazhang master accompanying him shook his head, "I heard there's still no news from President Liu and the others. I'm afraid things are probably bad."
.
As they were talking.
At the end of the street, a series of unhurried footsteps suddenly came from.
"Da, da, da."
Everyone instinctively turned around.
Under the dim streetlights, a person slowly walked towards them.
She wore a moon-white long robe, which was washed clean, with the cuffs rolled up to reveal a section of her fair wrist.
On his feet were a pair of black cloth shoes with many layers of soles, which were covered with some dust, but did not look dirty.
He wasn't wearing a hat, and his hair was neatly combed back, revealing his full forehead.
He wasn't carrying a folding fan or a large knife.
Instead, he was carrying a bare white waxwood stick without a spearhead.
The pole was as thick as a duck egg, and both ends were worn rounded, indicating that it had been used for many years.
Lu Cheng.
He was just one person, carrying a stick, strolling over leisurely.
He didn't bring any apprentices from the Qingyun Class, nor did he bring any helpers.
He didn't even have that murderous expression on his face.
He was like a schoolteacher who had just finished dinner and was out for a stroll, stopping by Dengying Tower to join in the fun.
"That's... Master Lu?!"
Someone in the crowd recognized him and let out a soft gasp.
That sound was like a drop of water being poured into a pan of oil.
The once bustling crowd at the entrance erupted in a frenzy, then quickly quieted down and automatically made way for them.
All eyes were on the young man.
Awe, worry, curiosity, and schadenfreude—various emotions mingled in the eyes.
Nobody expected that he would actually dare to come!
And he went to the meeting alone!
No, I didn't even bring a knife, just a fire poker!
"Master Lu!"
The old Tai Chi master couldn't help but shout, wanting to step forward to remind him, but was held back tightly by his companion.
"Don't cause trouble! We can't afford to get involved in this!"
Hearing the shout, Lu Cheng turned around, smiled slightly at the old boxer, and nodded.
That smile, gentle and warm, made people feel as if they were bathed in a spring breeze.
It was as if he was going to a tea party with an old friend, not a banquet for life and death.
He walked to the main entrance of Dengying Tower.
The two rows of thugs dressed in black silk robes were now on high alert, their hands on the axes at their waists, their eyes fixed fiercely on Lu Cheng.
The leader was a burly man with a face full of scars; he was Ma San's eldest apprentice, named Zhao Heihu.
"stop!"
Zhao Heihu stepped forward, blocking the road, his large axe gleaming coldly.
"This is Chairman Ma's grand retirement banquet; unauthorized personnel are not allowed inside!"
Do you have a post?
Lu Cheng stopped in his tracks.
He looked at Zhao Heihu, then at the axe in his hand.
"A post?"
Lu Cheng smiled.
"I didn't bring it."
"But I brought a gift."
"Courtesy? What ceremony?" Zhao Heihu was taken aback and subconsciously looked behind Lu Cheng, but saw nothing.
"Right here."
Lu Cheng raised his hand and gently patted the white waxwood stick in his hand.
"This is a walking stick that I prepared for Chairman Ma."
"I could tell he was old and had trouble walking, so he was walking crookedly."
"I specially brought a stick to help him—set his bones!"
These words caused an uproar in the room.
This is blatant provocation!
It's like slapping Ma San in the face in front of all the martial arts practitioners in Tianjin!
"court death!"
Zhao Heihu flew into a rage, his eyes flashing with a fierce light.
"Chop him up!!"
At his command, the twenty-odd thugs on both sides simultaneously drew their axes and charged forward with a roar.
The axes gleamed menacingly, exuding a murderous aura.
The onlookers screamed and scattered in terror.
Faced with the oncoming clash of swords and axes.
Lu Cheng didn't move an inch.
He simply sighed softly.
"If you don't want to reason, then let's use our fists."
Before he could finish speaking...
The white waxwood stick in his hand suddenly moved.
"Buzz—!"
A very deep humming sound rang out.
That seemingly ordinary wooden stick seemed to come alive instantly in Lu Cheng's hands, transforming into a dragon emerging from the sea.
There are no fancy moves.
It's just a simple, powerful strike—[Sweeping Across the Battlefield]!
"call--!!"
The wind howled, stirring up dust and creating a visible shockwave.
The twenty-odd burly men who rushed up only felt a blur before their eyes, and then an irresistible force swept over them.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"
A series of dull thuds.
That was the sound of a wooden stick hitting flesh, and the sound of bones breaking.
Before those twenty-odd sharp axes could even be chopped down, they were smashed away by this wooden stick.
Next came those burly men.
They were like fallen leaves swept up by a gale, screaming as they were sent flying backward, crashing heavily to the ground, clutching their arms and legs, rolling around and wailing.
one move.
Just a quick scan.
More than twenty skilled fighters were all lying down.
Lu Cheng remained standing in the same spot, without moving an inch.
The white waxwood stick in his hand pointed diagonally at the ground, without even a tremor.
Zhao Heihu was dumbfounded.
He stood frozen in mid-air, axe in hand, unsure whether to strike or retreat.
He looked at his junior brothers rolling on the ground, then at the calm-looking young man, and felt a chill run up his spine.
What kind of kung fu is this?
Is this even human?
"What, are you going to stop me?"
Lu Cheng looked at him indifferently.
"No, I wouldn't dare—"
Zhao Heihu loosened his grip, and the axe clattered to the ground.
He scrambled to the side, clearing a path for himself.
Lu Cheng ignored him, picked up his stick, stepped over the "wounded" people scattered on the ground, and climbed the steps one by one.
We entered the magnificent yet treacherous Dengying Tower.