SWDnovel Chapter 130 A Life-or-Death Drama on the Edge of the Razor
Chapter 130 A Life-or-Death Drama on the Edge of the Razor
Chapter 131 A Life-or-Death Drama on the Edge of the Razor
In fact, there is an unwritten rule in the theaters of Tianjin.
Even if you're the emperor in Beiping, a troupe from out of town still has to get past the local "people" when they arrive in Tianjin, the "lower reaches of the nine rivers".
In the trade, it's called "wading through muddy waters".
If you can't keep the local drummers and musicians in check, and they mess up the drumbeats or drag out a few notes on stage, the whole show will be ruined on the spot.
Early morning, in the backyard of the Chinese Theatre.
Several sun-protective canvases were strung across the courtyard, and the air was filled with a strong smell of pine resin and hair oil.
The apprentices of the Qingyun Troupe are practicing their legwork and stances in the courtyard, preparing for the upcoming group scene.
Lu Cheng didn't show up at the front; he sat with his eyes closed on a bamboo recliner, basking in the sun.
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
Not far away, the sound of a single-headed drum could be heard.
Lu Cheng raised an eyebrow slightly, but did not open his eyes.
Shunzi and Lu Feng were practicing the spear duel scene from "Changbanpo" there.
The drummer who provided the rhythm was an old drummer sent by the local theater in Tianjin, known as "Liu Yichui".
The old man had a mustache, smoked a pipe, and looked at Lu Feng and his group with a sidelong glance.
"Faster, faster! Haven't you eaten? This gun is as soft as noodles!" Old Liu pounded the drumstick in his hand with deafening force.
The rhythm he played was called "rapid wind" in the trade, but the drumbeats were fragmented and chaotic.
This is a unique "show of force" used by seasoned veterans of Tianjin.
Intentionally setting the rhythm off track and making it faster will disrupt your martial arts movements and breathing, a technique commonly known as the "death drum."
Lu Feng, who was already hot-tempered, suddenly found his breathing becoming heavy as the drumbeats spurred him on.
Although the white waxwood staff in his hand was still powerful and heavy, his steps had become somewhat disordered, and he almost tripped over Shunzi's gun several times.
"Stop!" Old Liu suddenly put down his drumsticks, sneered, and slammed his pipe on the sole of his shoe.
"This is supposed to be a disciple of a famous opera singer from Beiping?"
"He can't even keep time with the drumbeats. In Tianjin, that kind of skill isn't even enough to get him on stage as an extra!"
Several local Tianjin inspectors and servants nearby burst into laughter upon hearing this.
Lu Feng was so angry that his face turned ashen, his eyes turned red, and the veins on the back of his hand holding the spear bulged. He was about to step forward to argue.
"You old man, you're clearly just deliberately playing random drumbeats! This rhythm isn't from 'The Battle of Changban' at all!"
"Oh ho, you've got quite a temper, haven't you?"
Old Liu curled his lip. "What? You're incompetent and you're blaming the drummer? If this goes on stage tonight, what will the audience think?"
"Fengzi, step back."
Just then, a gentle voice came from behind.
Lu Cheng slowly stood up from the bamboo chair.
He walked lightly to the front of the crowd.
When those old hands from Tianjin saw Lu Cheng approaching, their laughter involuntarily caught in their throats.
They all know about the "flying gun" and "dodging bullets" that shocked Tianjin last night.
"Master Liu."
Lu Cheng walked up to the drum stand, but instead of getting angry, he politely cupped his hands in greeting.
"My apprentices are new here and don't understand the complexities of Tianjin. Please forgive them."
Seeing Lu Cheng's politeness, Old Liu's apprehension lessened somewhat, assuming that this renowned master of Beiping was also afraid of local bullies.
"No problem, Mr. Lu."
Old Liu chuckled, "We're just doing this for the good of the show. This little reprimand is just part of the rules, isn't it?"
"Rules must be in place."
Lu Cheng nodded, his gaze falling on the drum stand.
"However, the rule of my Qingyun Troupe has always been that martial arts follow one's heart, and drumming follows the will of others."
"7
"Master Liu feels that my apprentice can't keep up with your drumbeats."
"Then why don't I set an example for Master Liu?"
Old Liu was taken aback, then a cold laugh ran through his mind.
A martial arts actor came to teach him how to play the single-headed drum.
This is the livelihood he's had for decades!
"Oh, Boss Lu knows this trick? That's great, I'd like to see it for myself."
Old Liu stepped aside and handed over the two drumsticks.
Lu Cheng did not take the drumstick.
He simply put the purple clay teapot aside and took out the Xiangfei bamboo folding fan that he always kept tucked into his waistband.
"I don't know how to play the drums."
Lu Cheng smiled slightly, "But I understand 'strength'."
He extended his folding fan and gently suspended the delicate bamboo tip over the surface of the single-skinned drum.
"Fengzi, Shunzi. Let's do 'Changbanpo' again."
"Yes, Master!"
Lu Feng and Shunzi immediately got into position.
Lu Cheng closed his eyes.
The senses after the marrow cleansing instantly enveloped the entire backyard.
The contraction of his disciples' muscles, the flow of their blood, and even the rhythm of their breathing were all present in his mind.
"when."
The folding fan gently tapped the drum surface.
The sound wasn't loud, but Old Liu suddenly shuddered.
"Clang, clang, clang!"
Lu Cheng began to rhythmically tap the drumhead with his folding fan.
He didn't use any fancy techniques, and he didn't even move his wrist much.
He used the "vibrating force" that could penetrate the bone marrow after marrow cleansing.
This vibration is transmitted through the folding fan into the drum cavity, and then, through the resonance of the drum cavity, it spreads into the air.
This isn't a drumbeat; it's a pulse.
It was a pulse that was completely synchronized with the Qi and blood in Lu Feng and Shunzi's bodies.
As soon as Lu Feng heard the drumbeat, his internal energy, which had been disordered due to anger, instantly became incredibly smooth.
His spear thrust out.
"drink!"
The spear moved like a dragon, and with each seemingly gentle but actually heart-shaking "fan strike" from Lu Cheng, the sparring between Lu Feng and Shunzi actually produced a fierce momentum like that of a thousand troops.
The surrounding air seemed to be moved by this frequency.
The local servants and musicians of Tianjin were all pale-faced, clutching their chests, feeling their hearts pounding uncontrollably in rhythm with the folding fan.
So fast they couldn't breathe, so slow they almost suffocated.
"What kind of sorcery is this?!"
Old Liu was so frightened that he backed away repeatedly, looking at Lu Cheng as if he were a monster.
This isn't drumming; it's clearly using sound to control a person's blood and energy!
"Dissolving Force—Using sound to penetrate the body?"
A knowledgeable old boxer next to him gasped and muttered in fear.
The song ended.
Lu Cheng gently closed the folding fan in his hand and tapped it against the edge of the drum.
"Smack."
All the tremors vanished instantly.
Everyone then snapped out of their daze, panting heavily, their backs already soaked with cold sweat.
Lu Cheng turned his head and looked at Old Man Liu, whose face was as pale as paper.
"Master Liu, do you find the drums from Beijing and Tianjin pleasant to the ear?"
Old Liu's legs went weak, and he collapsed onto the long bench with a thud, waving his hands and wiping away cold sweat.
"Master Lu—this old man is convinced. You're not just beating a drum, you're banging the gavel of the King of Hell!"
"From now on, I, Lao Liu, will follow your orders completely at Qingyun Troupe's events, and I will never dare to deviate even by half a beat."
Lu Cheng smiled gently and picked up the purple clay teapot.
"Then I'll have to trouble you, Master Liu."
Then, he turned to look at his disciples who were still calming their blood and qi.
"Alright, the drumbeats are all set now, you guys practice here properly."
"I'm going out for a stroll and will buy you some authentic Tianjin breakfast. We're not eating foreign bread and milk today."
"Thank you, Master!" The disciples grinned, their eyes filled with excitement.
Stepping out of the theater's backyard, you'll find yourself on Tianjin's most bustling street.
Lu Cheng didn't take a car; he just strolled around and walked all the way to the "no man's land" area of Nanshi.
This place is a gathering place for all sorts of people in Tianjin. Early in the morning, it was already bustling with activity.
"Gabacai, hot gabacai!"
"Jianbing guozi, with fruit fritters—"
Both sides of the street were lined with small stalls with cloth tents.
Steam rose from the large copper kettle used for selling tea, while the large oil pot for frying dough twists sizzled.
The air was filled with the rich aroma of sesame paste, scallions, and cooking oil.
Lu Cheng walked among the crowd.
He walked slowly, his hands behind his back, like a rich young master taking a leisurely stroll.
The area was packed with people, shoulder to shoulder.
Strangely, in this bustling market, no matter how crowded the crowd was, not a single person could touch the hem of his clothes.
Often, just a second before someone is about to bump into him, his body will naturally shift slightly to the side or shrink back, like a slippery eel or a gust of wind.
Not only did they avoid collisions, but they also didn't disrupt the rhythm of their steps in the slightest.
"The cicadas sense the autumn wind before it even blows."
Lu Cheng closed his eyes, enjoying the wonderful feeling of being one with heaven and earth.
Just then.
His radar-like senses suddenly picked up on a few extremely discordant notes amidst the noisy, bustling atmosphere of the city.
Lu Cheng didn't turn around, not even lifting his eyelids.
In his perception, eight steps to his left rear, a man selling candied hawthorns had bulging veins on his hands as he pushed his cart, and his heart was beating twice as fast as a normal person's.
The laborer squatting against the wall to the right, smoking a pipe, has a cold pipe and a blade hidden in his sleeve.
"Are Ma San's men, or informants for the foreigners?"
Lu Cheng shook his head slightly.
He continued walking at a leisurely pace, stopping in front of a stall selling "Gaba Cai" (a type of vegetable dish).
"Shopkeeper, ten servings of Gaba Cai, extra sesame sauce and less chili, wrap them up and take them away."
Lu Cheng took out two copper coins from his sleeve and placed them on the greasy table.
"Alright, sir, please wait a moment." The shopkeeper quickly served the food.
Lu Cheng stood there and waited.
Just then, an old man carrying a barber's pole walked over, waving his barber's clapper and making a "ding-dong" sound.
The old man wore a tattered straw hat and a gray cloth jacket, his back slightly hunched.
"Sir, your sideburns are getting long, how about a shave?"
"This skill of mine was used to serve Chief Steward Li back in the day. It'll clean your hair perfectly, I guarantee you'll be comfortable." The old man approached, all smiles, speaking in fluent Tianjin dialect.
Lu Cheng turned his head and looked at the old man.
In his perception, the old man's heartbeat was frighteningly slow, almost the same as when an ordinary person is asleep.
But the old man's hands, which were carrying the load, had a thick layer of calluses on the tiger's mouth. Those were definitely not from using a razor, but from years of holding a samurai sword.
Japanese Ronin.
Moreover, he was a master of internal energy cultivation at its peak, and an expert in assassination.
To be able to conceal his murderous aura so completely in such a noisy street, if Lu Cheng hadn't just completed his initial marrow cleansing, he probably would have been fooled.
"OK."
Lu Cheng not only didn't refuse, but he smiled instead.
He turned around and sat down on the broken wooden stool next to the barber's stall with an air of authority.
"Then I'll trouble you, shaving me. I'm going to a big banquet tonight, so I need to look presentable."
A hint of joy flashed in the old barber's eyes.
He never expected that this legendary "Master Lu" would be so arrogant as to expose his neck to a stranger.
"Alright, sir, close your eyes and tilt your head back a little."
The old man deftly pulled an old-fashioned folding razor from his carrying pole.
The razor swished across the leather a few times, its blade gleaming.
The old man held a bowl of hot water and a soap brush, foaming at Lu Cheng's chin and neck.
Lu Cheng really closed his eyes.
He casually rested his hands on his knees, completely relaxed, as if he were truly enjoying a morning shave.
Ten steps away, the man selling candied hawthorns and the laborer smoking a pipe had already crept over, their hands gripping the handles of their guns, ready to provide backup at any moment.
While the surrounding people were still haggling, no one noticed that a deadly trap had already been laid in this small space.
"Sir, the knife is being used."
19
The old man lowered his voice, and the sharp, poisoned razor slowly approached Lu Cheng's throat.
The cold blade was less than a millimeter away from Lu Cheng's throbbing carotid artery.
With just a slight flick of the old man's wrist.
This renowned martial arts master, famous throughout Beiping, will die silently on this bustling southern street.
"Die, you Chinese pigs!"
The old man's eyes suddenly flashed with murderous intent. His originally hunched back straightened instantly, and the tendons on his arms tightened like steel wires, as if he was about to slash down fiercely!
however.
Just a fraction of a second before the blade was about to slice through Lu Cheng's skin.
Lu Cheng's Adam's apple, that seemingly soft flesh, had strangely sunken in.
It was like a piece of dough that had been punctured, instantly collapsing by half an inch.
The old man's knife cut through nothing!
Immediately afterward, before the old man could even react to this scene that defied the common sense of physics...
Lu Cheng's right hand, which had been resting on his knee, had somehow been raised.
Extremely casually, he extended his slender index and middle fingers and gently pinched them in mid-air.
"bite.
A crisp sound.
The razor blade, coated with deadly poison, was firmly held between Lu Cheng's two fingers.
The old man was terrified and tried to draw his knife.
But they found that the two fingers were like iron welding clamps, completely immobile.
He tried to abandon his knife and retreat, but it was too late.
Lu Cheng kept his eyes closed.
He held the blade between his fingers, and the pure, extreme power within his body, after undergoing marrow cleansing, flowed from his fingertips like an electric current and instantly "drilled" into the blade.
"Buzz"
The razor's stainless steel blade emitted a high-frequency vibration.
This domineering and incomparable internal force, carrying a penetrating power, went directly along the hilt of the knife and slammed into the old man's wrist.
"Pfft!"
The old man felt as if a bomb had been inserted into his entire right arm.
On the surface, there were no wounds on his skin, but the meridians, blood vessels, and even bone marrow inside his arm were instantly turned into a mess by that terrifying shock force.
"Well-
'
The old man's eyes bulged out, and he opened his mouth as if to scream.
But Lu Cheng's other hand had already lightly patted his chest.
The tap made no sound whatsoever.
It was like old friends meeting, brushing the dust off each other's clothes.
But the old man's heart stopped beating instantly under that extremely slight tap, his heart meridian ruptured.
The old man froze on the spot, his hand still gripping the knife, his eyes fixed on Lu Cheng, disbelief lingering in them.
He didn't understand how he died.
Why did I die without the other person even opening their eyes or moving their body?
"Master, your skills are a bit outdated."
Lu Cheng slowly opened his eyes, took the razor from the old man's stiff hand, and casually snapped it in two with a "crack," the steel razor falling to the ground.
He picked up the white towel on the table and slowly wiped the soap suds off his chin.
Not far away, the man selling candied hawthorns and the laborer smoking a pipe saw what was happening and were terrified.
They didn't even see how Lu Cheng made his move. That top assassin, a ninja-level member of the Black Dragon Society, just stood there, motionless.
The two men exchanged a glance and suddenly drew their pistols from their pockets.
"Splash!"
Lu Cheng still did not get up.
He simply touched the broken razor blade on the ground with his toe.
"Whoosh!"
The half-cut poisoned blade, propelled by the subtle force of Lu Cheng's foot, shot through the air like an arrow, drawing an arc in mid-air.
"puff!"
The blade precisely sliced open the throat of the man selling candied hawthorns, and with undiminished force, it plunged deeply into the wrist of the laborer holding the gun.
"what!"
The two men screamed and fell to the ground, convulsed a few times, and then, due to the effects of the poison, vomited black blood and became still.
In the blink of an eye, the surrounding people didn't even realize what had happened.
I only saw the candied hawthorn vendor suddenly collapse and vomit blood, and I thought he had an epileptic seizure.
"Sir, your 'Gaba Cai Bao' is ready."
The stall owner wiped his hands and handed over a dozen paper packages.
Thank you.
Lu Cheng stood up, took the paper package, and paid.
He turned his head and looked at the old shaved head man who was still standing, but was already dead.
Lu Cheng took out a silver dollar from his sleeve and gently stuffed it into the old man's shirt pocket.
He leaned close to the old man's ear.
"Keep this money to buy a thin-skinned coffin."
Lu Cheng raised his head, his eyes sweeping over the shadows of several seemingly ordinary street corners.
"Please trouble you to hire a cart and take these three corpses to Dengying Tower."
"Tell Ma San, and also that Major Takeda."
"Tonight's grand banquet for his retirement from the criminal world—I, Lu Cheng, will be there on time to offer my birthday greetings."
"Make him wash his neck clean and put away the stolen manual."
"Consider these corpses my appetizer for him."
After saying that, Lu Cheng carried the dozen or so steaming hot ba cai (a type of Sichuan street food) and calmly left amidst the hustle and bustle of the street.