Republic of China era: Actor? Please call me Martial Arts Master!

Chapter 24 Even if the patriarch bestows a gift, fate still plays a part.

The wind in the southern part of the city changed direction overnight.

The story of Wan Qiye from Jucheng Auto Shop kneeling and apologizing at the Lu family's door spread like wildfire, reaching every nook and cranny of Tianqiao before noon.

The courtyard was eerily quiet.

In the past, when Lu Laogen pushed his cart in and out, it was a muddy mess that anyone could step in.

This morning, the old man had just pushed his "Speedy" bicycle, which had been fitted with new bearings and was now gleaming, out the door.

"Hey, Mr. Lu, are you going for a stroll?"

Aunt Zhang, who is always gossipy, was holding a chamber pot in her hand. From a distance, she had a big smile on her face and her waist was bent over like a shrimp.

"It's cold outside, please wear more clothes so you don't catch a cold."

Lu Laogen paused for a moment, then straightened his back, grunted an "Mmm" through his nostrils, and walked over with a pigeon-toed gait.

Cool.

That was fucking awesome.

The old man had never felt the air was so sweet in his entire life.

He touched the warm "Double Fish Jade Pendant" in his arms, then touched the silver dollars in his pocket, and felt more confident.

All of this was earned by Chengzi.

……

Deyun Tea Garden, backstage.

Compared to the hustle and bustle outside, the atmosphere inside the team was rather somber today.

"A wrap-up performance?"

Lu Cheng sat in the armchair, toying with two iron walnuts in his hands. These were gifts from Wan Qi yesterday, who said they were palace toys and very heavy.

Zhou Daikui smoked his pipe with a worried expression, the smoke billowing around him.

"Yes, Chengzi. The New Year is coming soon. There is a custom in the Peking Opera world that a 'closing performance' must be staged on the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month, the Little New Year."

"This scene is when all the major production teams reveal their true strengths."

"And this year is different."

Zhou Daikui sighed and tapped his pipe on the table leg.

"This year, the 'Liyuan Guild' is leading the event, holding a grand performance at the 'Guanghelou' restaurant. All the prominent troupes in Beiping have to attend."

"It's called a get-together, but it's really just a 'talking match'."

"If anyone messes up this performance, or is outdone by someone else, next spring, this good venue and good time slot will no longer be available to you."

Lu Cheng understood.

This is the industry's "year-end exam".

If you pass the exam, you'll eat meat next year; if you fail, you won't even get soup.

"Our Qingyun Class used to not even have the qualifications to enter Guanghe Restaurant."

Old Guan interrupted from the side, wiping his clothes with a rag in his hand, looking worried.

"The guild only posted this because you became popular this year, Mr. Cheng."

"But I heard... that the Qinghe Troupe has teamed up with several famous actors from the 'Fu Lian Cheng' troupe to try and trip us up."

"They spread rumors that you, Master Cheng, are a 'self-taught' person who only knows how to exert yourself and doesn't understand the rules of traditional opera."

"They want to embarrass us in their closing performance."

Lu Cheng narrowed his eyes slightly, spinning the iron walnut in his hand rapidly, making a crackling sound.

Fu Lian Cheng?

That was the "Whampoa Military Academy" of Peking Opera in Beiping. The performers who came out of it were orthodox and professionally trained, and they looked down on those who didn't follow the proper methods.

This is an attempt to intimidate people based on their "origin".

"That's interesting."

A cold smile appeared on Lu Cheng's lips.

"Since they want to see the rules, then let's show them what the rules are."

"Master, what play should we perform for this year's closing performance?"

Zhou Daikui hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and said, "I'm thinking, should we go with 'Changbanpo'? Your Zhao Yun is a safe bet..."

"No."

Lu Cheng shook his head and stood up.

He walked to the corner and yanked open the pile of junk covered with an old canvas.

Amidst the swirling dust.

A heavy, rusted iron and wood frame was revealed.

That's... a pulley.

"Since they say I only know how to do manual labor."

"Then I'll show them whether they can afford to sell their strength."

Lu Cheng turned around, his eyes flashing with a sharp light.

"For our final performance, we'll be acting in 'The Chariot Chariot'!"

"Gao Chong?!"

Everyone backstage gasped in shock.

This is the most tiring, dangerous, and accident-prone "decapitation scene" in the martial arts actor profession!

"The Chariot Chariot" tells the tragic story of Gao Chong, a fierce general of the Southern Song Dynasty, who single-handedly charged into the Jin army camp and charioted eleven iron chariots in succession. Finally, exhausted, he was crushed to death by the twelfth chariot.

The difficulty of this play lies in the word "challenge".

The slide track on the platform, although not made of real iron, must still weigh several dozen kilograms.

The actors had to wear thick-soled boots and heavy armor, and in a state of extreme exhaustion, use guns to send these cars flying one by one.

If you don't have any skills, or if you misuse your strength.

At best, it can cause lumbar muscle strain; at worst, it can break bones on the spot.

In the early days, many martial arts actors ruined their careers by performing this play.

"Chengzi, this...this is too risky, isn't it?"

Zhou Daikui was so anxious that he kept stamping his feet.

"The platform at Guanghe Tower is high, so the pulleys come down with great force. If the Qinghe Troupe were to cause trouble, they might add something to the pulleys..."

"Adding ingredients would be even better."

Lu Cheng reached out, grabbed the prop sled weighing several dozen kilograms with one hand, gently tossed it upwards, and caught it steadily.

It's like catching a pillow.

"The carriage is too light, so Gao Chong's hatred won't be apparent."

"Only a heavy vehicle can suppress the evil spirits of Beijing."

Lu Cheng looked at the blind Ah Bing.

"Ah Bing, you need to change the tune of this piece, 'Picking the Chariot'."

Ah Bing was sitting on a bench listening to the commotion when he heard this, and then his gray eyes rolled around.

"Mr. Lu, how would you like to change it?"

"Don't play that whiny, tearful tune."

Lu Cheng walked to A Bing's side and gently plucked the strings with his fingers.

"Clang!"

"I want to kill."

"I want that kind of heroic spirit, that fearless courage even when facing a million adversaries."

Even if you're crushed to death, your spine will remain straight, and your breath will never leave you!

Ah Bing's hand trembled slightly.

He seemed to recall the bugle call he heard on the battlefield twenty years ago—a final, resounding cry that spoke of charging forward even knowing death was imminent.

"Understood."

Ah Bing took a deep breath and hugged the erhu tightly in his arms.

"Don't worry, Master Lu, I'll risk my life for this piece!"

……

For the next three days, the Qingyun Troupe closed its doors to visitors.

In the courtyard, Lu Cheng was no longer the only one practicing his skills.

Everyone sprang into action.

Even though their thighs were trembling with soreness, Shunzi and Xiaodouzi gritted their teeth and persisted in standing in the stance, determined to perform the role of "pushing soldiers" for their master.

Lu Cheng, on the other hand, was polishing the spear.

The tragic intensity of Gao Chong's performance in "Picking the Chariot" requires a deeper, more explosive force.

He was not only practicing shooting, but also cultivating his inner strength.

Cultivate that "domineering aura".

The "loyal and courageous" qualities bestowed upon him by the system gradually seeped into his very bones through the daily accumulation of experience.

Even if Lu Cheng doesn't say anything, just standing there...

It gives people a sense of oppression.

It was an aura as heavy as a mountain and as fiery as a raging fire.

Meanwhile, the rumors and gossip outside grew increasingly rampant.

"Have you heard? That amateur from the Qingyun Troupe actually dared to sign up for 'Picking the Slippery Cart'!"

"Hahaha, they really don't know their own limitations. Even 'Boss Yuan' from Fu Liancheng, who has practiced for twenty years, wouldn't dare to easily perform this play."

"I heard that the Qinghe Troupe specially commissioned four 'custom-made' sleds this time, filled with lead, each weighing over 100 pounds!"

"Over a hundred pounds, and he still wants to lift it up? Lu Cheng is probably going to risk his life at Guanghe Restaurant."

"This is what they call insatiable greed; they're so desperate for fame they've gone mad."

In the teahouses and taverns, there were people waiting to see the joke.

Lu Cheng ignored him.

He simply practices the same standing meditation every morning, nourishing his qi and blood, and constantly cleansing his spine.

He is waiting.

Just as the box was about to be sealed, a thunderclap exploded.