SWDnovel Chapter 126 The Overlord Disarms, A Trip to Tianjin
Chapter 126 The Overlord Disarms, A Trip to Tianjin
Chapter 127 The Overlord Disarms, A Trip to Tianjin
Tea mixed with porcelain powder dripped down between my fingers.
Standing to the side, Li Wuye felt a chill run from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head.
He was a seasoned veteran, having witnessed countless murders and robberies, but the murderous aura that Lu Cheng had just exuded made it difficult for him to even breathe.
"Master Lu, Master Lu—" Master Li's voice trembled.
Lu Cheng did not look up.
He picked up a white towel from the table and wiped the porcelain dust clean.
"Fifth Master, you've worked hard."
Lu Cheng tossed the towel onto the table. "This news is invaluable. Go back and rest. Don't show your face on the streets for the next few days. I'll handle the rest."
"Oh dear! Master Lu, please be very careful. Tianjin is a dangerous place; the waters run deep—"
Master Li didn't dare to offer any more advice. He cupped his hands in greeting and slipped out of the dressing room.
The door closed again.
Quiet.
In the midst of this deathly silence, a sudden, resounding boom echoed in Lu Cheng's mind.
The familiar, ancient, golden characters, carrying a powerful and majestic aura of war, suddenly appeared!
[Current Performance: Farewell My Concubine]
[Character: Xiang Yu, the Hegemon-King of Western Chu]
[Comment: "A true overlord, forged in blood and tears! In this play, you brought to life the proud loneliness of a hero at the end of his road, and sang out a tragic grandeur that shook the mountains and rivers. Unbound by rigid formulas, you poured your heart and soul into the performance, moving the audience with genuine emotion. The three thousand audience members bowed down before you. In the world of Peking Opera and martial arts in Beijing, you are now the uncrowned king!"]
[Overall Rating: Top Grade (Skill reaching the pinnacle, a masterpiece for all time!)]
[Reward Received:]
【1. Ultimate Skill: Overlord's Armor Removal!】
(Note: This is a desperate, life-or-death technique. It reverses the body's vital energy and blood, forcibly burning potential in a desperate situation to instantly unleash three times the user's maximum combat power!)
[2. Special Destiny: The Leading Figure in the Peking Opera World!]
(Note: With your prestige and prestige, your power is already established. Those who wear this astrological chart will see ordinary evil spirits, villains, and wicked people as if they were seeing a true god, subduing them without a fight. For those with weak minds, you can even break their courage at a glance!)
Lu Cheng looked at the reward in his mind, his heart as still as water.
The King's Farewell to His Concubine.
Three times the combat power.
His current foundation already contains seventy years of refined internal strength, and he has already stepped into the threshold of transforming internal strength.
If they could unleash three times their original fighting power again—
What a terrifying sight that would be!
I'm afraid they could really tear down this steel-cast city wall with their bare hands.
"Tianjin Wei, Hongkou Dojo —"
Lu Cheng tilted his head slightly, looking at the yellowed ceiling of the dressing room, a flash of golden light in his eyes.
"Master!"
A series of hurried footsteps came from outside the door. Shunzi pushed open the door and ran in, covered in sweat.
"Master, guess what? They've gone mad! Everyone outside has gone mad!"
Shunzi was so excited that she danced with joy.
"The head manager was just settling accounts at the front, and just the tips thrown down from this table—gold coins, silver pocket watches, and silver dollars—"
There were four large sacks full; it must have cost at least several thousand dollars!
Immediately afterwards, Zhou Daikui also walked in.
The old man was clutching a thick ledger, his hands trembling like a leaf.
"Chengzi—the Ancestral Master has appeared! Our Qingyun Troupe has truly risen to the top in one step!"
Zhou Daikui swallowed hard.
"And those business owners and money shop managers were lining up to send red envelopes to you backstage, saying they were a token of their respect and wouldn't accept them no matter what."
"I did a rough calculation, and we currently have over 30,000 silver dollars sitting in our accounts."
More than 30,000 silver dollars!
In those days, pork cost two cents a pound, and a bag of the best flour cost only two dollars.
Thirty thousand silver dollars could buy several large courtyard houses with multiple courtyards in the most prosperous inner city of Beiping, along with dozens of servants.
This is true, unimaginable wealth.
However, Lu Cheng simply picked up a newly replaced cup of Gao Sui on the table and slowly blew away the foam.
"Tanker."
"Money is a good thing, but we can't keep it all."
"Huh?" Zhou Daikui was taken aback.
"Let's stick to the old rules," Lu Cheng said, putting down his teacup.
"I took out a thousand yuan and distributed it among the brothers in the gang. They've all lived in fear with me; this is what they deserve."
"Take out another three thousand dollars to buy the best white flour and cornmeal, as well as medicine and cotton cloth. Tomorrow morning, have Shunzi take some men and deliver half of the money to the orphanage and soup kitchen in the south of the city, and secretly deliver the other half to the homes of those martial arts brothers who have lost their livelihoods."
Zhou Daikui clicked his tongue in amazement, but looking into Lu Cheng's eyes, he swallowed back the words he was about to say.
He knew that the young man in front of him was no longer concerned with the gains and losses of this small opera troupe.
"Then—what about the rest?" Zhou Daikui asked in a low voice.
"The rest was deposited in foreign trading companies and exchanged for gold bars with fixed contracts."
Lu Cheng stood up, his gaze deep.
"The world is going to be in chaos. In chaotic times, paper money is just worthless paper. Only real gold and silver can save the lives of us, the old and young, in the Qingyun Class."
The next morning.
The weather in Beiping was gloomy, with leaden-gray clouds hanging low and the air carrying a damp chill reminiscent of late spring.
Outside the Qianmen Gate, a vendor selling douzhi (fermented mung bean juice) shrank his neck and called out, his voice carrying a long, drawn-out sound in the empty alley.
The backyard of the Lu residence.
The courtyard was already steaming hot at the crack of dawn.
"Slap! Slap! Slap!"
A series of crisp, crackling sounds, like firecrackers exploding, rang out rhythmically in the center of the courtyard.
That wasn't firecrackers, but the sound of a fist hitting the trunk of an old elm tree.
Lu Feng was shirtless and drenched in sweat.
-
The wolf cub has grown taller recently, and its once skinny ribs are now covered with a layer of muscle.
He stood on the "Liangyi Stance" of Bajiquan, and with each step he took, the blue bricks on the ground trembled slightly.
"drink!"
Lu Feng inhaled sharply, his spine tensed instantly, and a crisp "crack" sound was heard.
Immediately afterwards, he twisted his waist and hips, and his right fist, like a cannonball, slammed into the wooden stake covered with thick layers of paper in front of him with a fierce aura.
"Boom—Crack!"
The thick wooden stake, wrapped in more than a dozen layers of cowhide and thousands of layers of paper, was actually punched so hard that a deep dent was formed.
Wood chips mixed with shredded paper exploded like snowflakes.
A single sound is worth more than a thousand pieces of gold!
The punch made a sound, as crisp as tearing silk.
This is a sign that one has reached a high level of proficiency in Ming Jin (a type of martial arts).
"Good lad."
Shunzi, who was doing leg stretches next to him, stared wide-eyed and gasped.
"Fengzi, the force of your punch could probably smash through a city wall brick, right?"
Lu Feng withdrew his fist, his chest heaving violently, and even wisps of white mist rose from the top of his head.
He looked at his red, even slightly bleeding, fist and grinned.
"Not enough."
Lu Feng's eyes were as fierce as a wolf's.
"If this were to actually hit a Japanese person, it would at most break a few bones. I want to train until I can shatter their heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys into a pulp with a single punch!"
"That's good, having that ruthlessness is a good thing."
A gentle voice came from under the eaves.
Lu Cheng, wearing a gray cloth robe and carrying a bowl of steaming hot soy milk, slowly walked over.
"Master."
"Master, you're up!"
The apprentices in the courtyard immediately stopped what they were doing, stood up straight in unison, their eyes filled with undisguised fervor.
Lu Cheng took a sip of the sour steamed bun, which had a pungent smell but was very much to the liking of the old Beijingers, and then picked up a piece of finely chopped pickled vegetable and put it in his mouth, chewing it with a crunchy sound.
He walked up to Lu Feng and reached out to pat him on the shoulder.
"The Ming Jin skill has been partially mastered. Half of the stiffness in the bones has dissipated, and those several vats of strong medicine were not wasted."
Lu Cheng nodded, his tone carrying a hint of approval.
Lu Feng was so excited that his face turned red. Receiving a word of praise from his master made him happier than receiving a hundred silver dollars.
"but."
Lu Cheng abruptly changed the subject, and suddenly flicked his wrist.
A seemingly effortless palm strike landed lightly on Lu Feng's chest.
Lu Feng instinctively wanted to tense his muscles and tough it out.
But at the very moment the two made contact.
Lu Feng felt as if his master's palm was a ball of cotton, and his powerful strength had nowhere to go.
Immediately afterwards, a strange shockwave pierced through his hard pectoral muscles and penetrated his lungs.
"Thump thump thump".
Lu Feng staggered back three steps and sat down heavily on the ground, clutching his chest, his face turning purple from holding his breath. It took him a long time to catch his breath.
"Master, what—what kind of force is this?" Lu Feng looked up in shock.
"This is called darkness."
Lu Cheng held the soy milk, his expression unchanged.
"Your current internal strength is like a newly sharpened wood-chopping knife—powerful and sharp, but it's prone to chipping when it encounters something truly tough."
"When practicing martial arts, you can't just cultivate a lifeless spirit. Hardness cannot last, and softness cannot be maintained. You must learn to hide this fierce spirit that wants to tear a hole in the sky into your very bones."
"He looks like a cat most of the time, but he's a tiger when he gets going."
Lu Cheng reached out and plucked a withered leaf from the flower bed next to him.
He placed the withered leaf in his palm.
Lu Cheng did not clench his fist, but merely swelled his palm slightly.
With a soft "poof" sound.
The withered leaf didn't break, but a small green caterpillar clinging to it instantly burst into a puddle of green liquid.
It can strike an ox across a mountain, its force penetrating to the finest detail.
"Hiss!"
Shunzi, Xiaodouzi, and Lu Feng felt their scalps tingle.
If this hit a person, the skin and flesh would remain intact, but the internal organs would have long since turned into mush.
"Think about it carefully."
Lu Cheng drank the last bit of soy milk in the bowl and then handed the rough porcelain bowl to Shunzi.
"I'm going to meet a guest. You all stay home and don't go anywhere."
Before he could finish speaking, a deafening sound of gongs and drums suddenly came from the front yard.
This is not the usual festive celebration, but the highest-level "welcoming the gods" music performance in the Peking Opera world.
The gongs rang out rapidly and frequently, their sound echoing through the sky.
"Master Lu, Master Lu."
Old Zhang, the gatekeeper, scrambled into the backyard, not even bothering to pick up one of his shoes as he ran.
"Outside—the old masters of the Pear Garden Guild have arrived with the heads of all thirty-six major opera troupes in Beiping."
"They were carrying a huge, golden plaque that completely blocked off Qianmen Street."
Lu Cheng raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.
He strode towards the front yard.
As soon as I stepped out of the moon gate, I saw that the courtyard was packed with people.
Leading the group was none other than Mr. Cheng, the head of the Peking Opera Guild, who had spent his entire life singing old male roles.
Standing beside him were Master Ye of Fu Liancheng, and several other Peking Opera masters who usually lived a secluded life, only worshipping their ancestral master behind the theater.
These seasoned veterans, who could shake the entire Peking Opera world with a stomp of their feet in Beijing, all took a half-step back when they saw Lu Cheng emerge from the backyard in a simple cloth robe.
"Boss Lu."
Mr. Cheng strode forward, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and performed a grand bow in front of everyone in the courtyard.
"Last night's rendition of 'Farewell My Concubine' truly brought back the spirit of our ancestors."
"By slaying the Japanese invaders, we have enhanced our national prestige and, more importantly, given a much-needed boost to the morale of us lowly actors, allowing us to stand tall and proud."
Mr. Cheng's voice was loud and clear, filled with passion.
"The guild held an incense offering ceremony overnight and sought guidance from the ancestral master."
"From this day forward, the top spot in the Peking Opera world belongs to you alone!"
"Come on, please present the plaque."
As Mr. Cheng gave a loud call, eight strong martial arts instructors, chanting in unison, carried in a large plaque made of golden nanmu wood, which was at least twelve feet long.
The inscription above features four large, gilded characters written in a vigorous, calligraphic style.
【The Martial Saint of a Hundred Generations】!
The inscription reads: Respectfully presented by the Peking Opera Guild of Beiping and its Thirty-Six Classes.
These four words carry the weight of Mount Tai.
People used to call him "Martial Saint," which was a nickname given by opera enthusiasts, a term of endearment in the martial arts world.
But once this plaque was hung up, it was as if the entire Peking Opera industry had officially stamped its approval, acknowledging Lu Cheng as a once-in-a-century martial arts saint of opera.
From now on, this will be an ironclad rule for Lu Cheng in the Peking Opera world.
Any opera troupe that dares to be disrespectful is considered to be betraying their master and ancestors.
Mr. Cheng shakily took out a small sandalwood brocade box from his pocket.
The box was opened, and inside lay a translucent, blood-red ancient jade thumb ring.
"Boss Lu, this is the blood-jade thumb ring that the Imperial Household Department bestowed upon our patriarch of the Peking Opera troupe years ago." Seeing this is like seeing the head of the troupe.
"You are worthy of these four words, and you can also bear the weight of this thumb ring."
Please accept this as a gift!
The entire courtyard, filled with troupe leaders and famous performers, bowed deeply and clasped their hands in greeting: "Please accept this, Master Lu."
The sounds converged, piercing the sky and causing the snow on the trees to fall in a rustling sound.
Lu Cheng stared quietly at the plaque and the blood-jade thumb ring.
He neither declined nor offered any insincere politeness.
He knew in his heart that if he refused at this time, it would be pretentious and a slap in the face to these old gentlemen.
It was also in this chaotic world that he lost his momentum.
He steadily picked up the blood jade thumb ring and slipped it onto his right thumb.
The blood-red jade, set against his hand that had killed people and made delicate, orchid-like gestures, exuded an indescribable aura.
"I'll accept this plaque."
Lu Cheng's gaze swept across the entire room, his voice calm.
"I'm wearing this thumb ring too."
"Since everyone is so kind, then I, Lu, will set a rule."
"From now on, in the world of Peking Opera in Beiping, we will not compete on pomp and circumstance, nor on the wealth of our patrons, but only on the true skill of the performers on stage! Who dares to use the art passed down from our ancestors to fool the common people, who dares to perform for foreigners or traitors—"
Lu Cheng gently turned the blood-jade thumb ring with his thumb, his eyes flashing with cold light.
"I, Lu Cheng, was the first to smash his stage props."
"boom--!
'
The entire audience erupted in thunderous cheers.
This is the real star, this is the true leader of Peking Opera.
This domineering aura made every opera singer present feel more upright and confident than ever before.
It seems that someone has been shielding them from the storms of this chaotic world.
Lu Cheng turned around and looked at Zhou Daikui, whose face was flushed with excitement.
"Master, hang up the plaque."
"Let's hang it in the main hall of our Qingyun Grand Theater, so that everyone who comes to see the play can see the integrity of our Peking Opera troupe."
After giving his instructions, Lu Cheng tossed the hem of his moon-white robe and strode out of the Lu residence.
The treacherous waters of Tianjin are still waiting for him to wade through.
Around noon, outside the front gate, at the "Biyunxuan" teahouse.
This place is a well-known elegant spot in Beijing, and ordinary peddlers and laborers dare not enter it.
-
Those coming and going here are mostly old men and women in long gowns, literati and scholars, or famous actors in the Peking Opera world.
The innermost private room on the second floor, designated as "Top Class".
On the mahogany octagonal table, there was an exquisite set of blue and white porcelain tea set, and fine West Lake Longjing tea was being brewed on the stove, its fragrant aroma soothing and refreshing.
Mei Lanfang, dressed in a well-tailored dark blue long gown with subtle patterns and wearing gold-rimmed glasses, sat quietly by the window.
He didn't bring any attendants, not even Steward Qi, who was always by his side.
"Squeak."
The door to the private room was gently pushed open.
Lu Cheng stepped in.
He was dressed very simply today, in a plain white robe without any patterns, and on his feet were a pair of black cloth shoes with many layers of soles. Apart from the blood jade thumb ring on his big toe, which symbolized his status, he looked like a private tutor who had just finished teaching.
"Boss Mei, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting." Lu Cheng bowed with his hands clasped in a natural and unhurried manner.
"Boss Lu, please have a seat."
Mei Lanfang stood up, picked up the purple clay teapot, and poured Lu Cheng a cup of tea.
The movements were fluid and graceful, carrying an inherent refinement.
"This spring tea has just come from the harvest; it was sent here by express horseman from the south. Please have a taste."
Lu Cheng picked up his teacup and took a small sip.
"Excellent tea. Slightly bitter at first, but with a lingering sweet aftertaste. Mr. Mei, you've gone to great lengths."
Instead of getting to the main topic, the two chatted over the aroma of tea about interesting stories from their time in the Peking Opera world and the sensational performance of "Farewell My Concubine" that shook the capital the previous night.
Until half of the pot of tea was drunk.
Mei Lanfang put down his teacup, and the gentle smile on his face gradually faded.
"Boss Lu, I heard that you're leaving for Tianjin soon?"
This matter was extremely confidential, but someone of Mei Lanfang's stature had informants in both the legitimate and criminal worlds, so it was impossible to keep it from him.
"Yes." Lu Cheng put down his teacup, without denying it.
"You can't go to that place."
Mei Lanfang sighed, his brows furrowed, took off his gold-rimmed glasses, and rubbed his temples.
"Boss Lu, you are a true dragon in Beiping."
"The people of Beijing are protecting you. Although warlords like Marshal Ma are arrogant, they don't dare to openly go against the will of the people."
"But Tianjin is different."
Mei Lanfang lowered his voice and leaned forward slightly.
"That was the lower reaches of the nine rivers, a place where people from all walks of life gathered. Foreign warships just swaggered around on the Haihe River."
"Even a master of internal energy would find it difficult to escape unscathed in the face of warships and heavy artillery."
"Especially those nine foreign concessions, which had long since become states within states for foreigners. The waters in that area were too murky and too deep."
"And I heard—"
Mei Lanfang swallowed.
"Ever since the great upheaval of the Boxer Rebellion, although the foreigners forced open the gates of the Celestial Empire, there has always been a thorn in their hearts that they could not remove."
"What thorn?" Lu Cheng listened quietly.
"That's exactly who you are—a grandmaster of Chinese martial arts!"
Mei Lanfang spoke slowly and deliberately, his tone heavy.
"No matter how powerful the foreigners' armies are, they are still in the open."
"But the older generation of martial artists in China, those masters of the Transformation Realm, come and go without a trace."
"Within a distance of a few dozen paces, a rifle is no match for a master's agility. They fear this kind of decapitation," fear having their heads ripped off in their sleep.
"So, in recent years, especially among the Japanese."
"On the surface, they hold martial arts exchanges, but secretly they support the Black Dragon Society and the Xuan Yang Society, using despicable means such as poisoning, assassination, and recruitment. They have only one goal—"
Mei Lanfang looked into Lu Cheng's eyes.
"We must completely break the last backbone of our national martial arts."
"President Liu and his group have probably fallen into a trap."
"If you go now, you'll be walking into a trap."
The private room fell silent.
All that could be heard was the bubbling sound of water boiling in the tea stove.
Seeing Lu Cheng's calm and composed expression, Mei Lanfang couldn't help but administer another strong dose of medicine.
"Boss Lu, a Grandmaster like you who has just shown his prowess and defeated various experts has long been the target of spies from all sides."
"Your every move in Beiping is under the surveillance of those people."
"If you disappear without a trace tonight, the higher-ups at the foreign level will probably go crazy!"
"If a Grandmaster of Internal Energy were to sneak into the shadows, they would be on high alert immediately. All the major concessions in Tianjin would be placed under martial law, and not even a fly could get in."
"By then, you'll be surrounded and killed by foreign guns and cannons before you even find President Liu."
Lu Cheng looked out the window.
Outside the window, an old man pulling a rickshaw was struggling to climb a gentle slope, his tattered jacket soaked with sweat.
On the roadside, two Japanese ronin dressed in kimonos were brazenly harassing a little girl selling flowers, while the surrounding patrol officers turned their heads away as if they hadn't seen anything.
This is the Republic of China era.
An era that was terminally ill yet still struggling desperately.
Lu Cheng turned his head and looked at Mei Lanfang, whose face was full of anxiety.
He suddenly laughed, a frank and open laugh.
His laughter was somewhat carefree, yet it also exuded a domineering aura that made Mei Lanfang feel suffocated.
"Since they're afraid, it means we're not all dead yet."
Lu Cheng stood up, walked to the window, and stood with his hands behind his back.
"In this world, there is no feast that doesn't end, and no iron barrel that can't be broken."
"They set a trap, wanting to make an example of someone."
"If I don't go, the spirit that Beiping City has finally managed to muster will dissipate again."
"At that time, they will intensify their efforts and advance unimpeded."
"I went to Tianjin for no other reason than to tell them that they can't kill this chicken."
"They can't do this monkey thing either."
Mei Lanfang stared blankly at Lu Cheng, at the back of this man who was much younger than himself.
In that instant, he seemed to see again the King of Western Chu on the stage last night, who looked around with a bewildered expression, yet still looked down upon the world with pride.
He knew he couldn't persuade them anymore.
Such people are born to break the rules, to tear a bloody path through the darkness.
"That's enough, that's enough."
Mei Lanfang sighed deeply and put his glasses back on.
"If you absolutely must go, I have an idea that can cover for you."
Lu Cheng turned around: "Oh? Boss Mei, please go ahead."
A shrewd glint flashed in Mei Lanfang's eyes.
"A magic trick, a magic trick, you have to come up with a new one."
"You can't sneak in alone; that would be too conspicuous and would only make them suspicious."
"I'll immediately send a telegram to our old friends in the Tianjin opera circle, asking them to formally extend an invitation under the guise of 'North-South opera exchange,' offering a hefty sum to invite your entire Qingyun Troupe to come and perform a series of operas!"
Mei Lanfang looked at Lu Cheng and spoke slowly.
"You take your entire opera troupe there by train in a grand and open manner. When the foreigners see that you are going there with your family to perform and make money, their vigilance will naturally be lowered."
"This is called 'openly repairing the plank road while secretly crossing the Chencang pass'."
Upon hearing this, a hint of admiration flashed in Lu Cheng's eyes.
"A good plan."
"The truly wise hide in plain sight. With the opera troupe as cover, they'll never guess that I'll make my move from behind the stage."
Mei Lanfang nodded and solemnly took out a black plaque engraved with strange patterns from his pocket.
He then took out an unsigned envelope and handed it to Lu Cheng.
"Boss Lu, I'm too weak to even kill a chicken, I can't help you with any fighting. Please take this sign."
"In the French Concession of Tianjin, there was a no-man's-land where the dockworkers and the Green Gang's gangs were all under the jurisdiction of 'Master Yuan the Eighth.'"
"This Master Yuan owes me a life from my younger days."
"He was a true patriot, well-connected in both the legitimate and underworld circles in Tianjin, and even foreigners were wary of him."
"When you arrive in Tianjin, take this sign to the Defeng Teahouse in the French Concession and find him. He can help you find out the inside story of the concession and arrange a safe place for you and your opera troupe to stay."
Lu Cheng accepted the plaque and letter with both hands and carefully put them into his pocket.
"Boss Mei, I am deeply grateful."
Lu Cheng clasped his hands and bowed deeply.
That's enough.