20demayo Chapter 106 Everything is ready, the decapitation operation begins!
Chapter 106 Everything is ready, the decapitation operation begins!
Chapter 107 Everything is ready, the decapitation operation begins! (10k-word chapter)
In Beiping in March, the weather is still chilly despite the warming trend.
The willows on Qianmen Street had just sprouted tender buds when a sudden cold snap forced them back. The old men who went to walk their birds along the moat early in the morning also wrapped their cotton vests, which they hadn't yet put away, even tighter.
The backyard of the Lu residence.
The sky was just beginning to lighten, and white frost still clung to the roof tiles.
Lu Cheng stood under the old locust tree, wearing a loose-fitting moon-white silk training uniform, and his cloth shoes with a thousand layers of soles made no sound as they stepped on the slightly damp blue bricks.
He is "walking".
It's not ordinary walking, nor is it the steady, mud-walking step in Xingyi Quan.
He hunched his back slightly, and his originally upright and sturdy frame seemed to shrink into a ball in that instant, making him look like he had lost ten pounds out of thin air.
"Suck" 6
Inhale deeply into your dantian, but don't let it sink to the bottom; keep it suspended in mid-air.
With a light touch of the toes on the ground and without using the brute force of pushing off with the heels, the whole person "whooshed" to a distance of more than 30 feet.
The movements were light, agile, and unpredictable, yet exuded an indescribable elegance.
It's like in early spring, when the peach blossoms are in full bloom, a black-feathered, white-bellied swallow skims across the water, its wingtips lightly touching the ripples before disappearing in an instant.
This is the Swallow Form from the Twelve Forms of Xingyi Quan.
"The dragon form searches bones, the tiger form pounces on its prey—these are the styles of a ruthless general. Only the swallow form takes a different approach, cultivating a 'thief's' strength."
Lu Cheng paused, stood on one foot on a wooden post of the plum blossom stake, closed his book, and fell into deep thought.
His current kung fu is more powerful than agile. Although he has the "Ghost Shadow Steps," it's just a simple movement technique, for running and dodging.
The swallow form in Xingyi Quan integrates body movement into the fighting style, allowing for the generation of whole-body power even in extremely fast-paced movement.
"To truly master this hidden strength with fluidity and ease, one must focus on the word 'spirit'."
"What is spirit? It is not speed, it is change."
Lu Cheng pictured swallows flitting through the forest and skimming the water.
Swallows may look small, but they can fly incredibly fast.
The most amazing thing is that it can turn back instantly without slowing down while sprinting at full speed. The so-called "swallow soaring into the sky" and "swallow skimming the water" emphasize the "drilling" and "flipping" power of the waist and horse stance working in unison.
"rise."
Lu Cheng touched the ground with his toes.
There was no dull stomping sound; instead, the person floated up like a leaf blown by the wind.
He was in mid-air, exhausted, and about to fall.
Just then, he twisted his waist sharply, and the tendons on the inside of his thighs snapped like bowstrings, making a soft "humming" sound.
The momentum that was originally rushing forward was abruptly turned at a 90-degree angle without any support!
"brush!"
The sleeves fluttered in the wind, yet made no sound.
He weaved through the plum blossom stakes, sometimes up, sometimes down, sometimes left, sometimes right.
If there were outsiders present at this moment, they would be so shocked that their jaws would drop.
Because Lu Cheng's movements were too fast, so fast that only a white afterimage could be seen, like a giant white swallow playing in the forest.
His toes would often just barely touch the stake, or even not step on it properly, and with that tiny bit of reaction force, he could change direction again.
"Like a swallow skimming the water, rising and falling, diving and tumbling."
"Steel cannot last, and softness cannot be maintained."
"But this swallow-shaped form embodies a skillful balance of strength and gentleness. It uses the body as a rudder and the body's energy as a sail."
Lu Cheng suddenly landed, standing on one foot on the highest plum blossom stake, remaining completely still.
Upon closer inspection, his five toes gripped the edge of the wooden stake like steel hooks, while the sole of his foot was hollow.
The Qi and blood in the body no longer surge and roar like a great river when practicing Bengquan before, but instead become small streams that seep into every small muscle group, even the fingertips and earlobes.
In the past, when he hit people, he would throw a punch that could shatter stone tablets and split rocks; that was an explosive force.
Now, he feels he can control every tremor in his fingertips.
Even when catching a fly, you can do it without hurting its wings. Even when stepping on tofu, you can leave no footprint.
This is what it means to be meticulous.
"call----"
Lu Cheng slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.
This breath was extremely long, shooting out three feet away like a white ribbon, condensing and not dissipating.
The initially intimidating golden light in his eyes gradually subsided, transforming into a deep, unfathomable well of water, appearing even more gentle.
"This swallow-shaped form can be considered a beginner's skill."
Once the swallow form was complete, his movement technique was truly alive.
Previously, they were rampaging land tanks; now, they've been given wings and equipped with radar.
As dawn broke, the sun climbed onto the eaves of the house.
As they were practicing, a series of "humming, hawing, and heying" sounds came from the other end of the yard, accompanied by the dull thuds of heavy objects hitting the ground.
It was those disciples who rose up.
Lu Cheng didn't come down from the wall; he just stood there with his hands behind his back, looking down at the view.
Inside the training ground, the air was thick with the smell of sweat from young people, mixed with the aroma of herbs being brewed in the corner of the courtyard—this was the proper smell of a martial arts training ground.
-
Shunzi, as the eldest brother, took the lead, squatting in a horse stance and thrusting his spear.
He was shirtless, revealing his dark, ingot-like muscles.
The large spear in his hand was made of waxwood and weighed about twenty pounds.
"tie!"
Shunzi let out a low growl and thrust his spear horizontally.
He practiced this move, "Central Horizontal Spear," the hardest and most difficult one.
It's not fancy at all, just stable.
With each thrust, the spear tip did not tremble.
Sweat dripped down his square jaw, leaving shallow dents on the blue bricks beneath his feet.
Lu Cheng nodded slightly.
Shunzi is of average talent, but he has a calm and steady temperament. He may not become a grandmaster in this life, but he will definitely be a powerful figure who can protect his family business.
Beside them, Little Bean was darting around on the plum blossom stakes like a monkey.
This kid practices movement techniques. Although he doesn't yet have the effortless grace of Lu Cheng, he has still developed some talent.
But this child is wild; his eyes kept drifting towards the kitchen, clearly because he smelled the meat buns.
The most eye-catching one was Lu Feng.
This wolf cub has changed a lot.
After months of being fed large amounts of meat and medicine, he grew taller and his body, which was originally as thin as a stick, is now all lean and muscular.
His flesh is different from Shunzi's; Shunzi's flesh is "iron," thick and heavy.
Lu Feng's wires are all twisted together, and they look incredibly powerful.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
That was the sound of a fist slamming into layers of paper.
Lu Feng was practicing hard on a thick stack of paper tied to an old elm tree.
The paper was made by pasting layers of straw paper together, which was both tough and hard, and was perfect for rubbing your fist.
This kid is now the "Martial Arts Champion" of the Qingyun Class.
In the battle at Yandang Mountain, he broke through the enemy lines and comprehended the principles of Ming Jin (a type of internal strength).
After more than a month of consolidation, coupled with the accumulation of those precious medicinal herbs, his skills have truly been established.
"drink!"
Lu Feng let out a low growl, the sound of which was not human, but rather like that of a young leopard that had not yet reached adulthood.
Suddenly, his spine sprang up, and a series of cracking sounds, like the bones popping, were heard.
His right fist flew like a cannonball, and with the force of twisting his waist and thrusting his hips, he slammed it hard onto the thousand-layered paper.
"Smack!!!"
A crisp sound, like a firecracker exploding.
The two-inch-thick layer of paper had a hole punched through it, sending wood chips flying and revealing the stark white tree trunk behind it.
It's so thick it's almost transparent!
This is not just about strength; it's about the penetration of internal energy, a genuine achievement of minor mastery of Ming Jin (a type of internal strength).
"Good lad."
Lu Cheng swayed and gracefully landed on the wall, a look of relief on his face.
Lu Feng, with his sharp ears, immediately stopped his movements upon hearing his master's voice.
His fists were covered in calluses, some of which were still bleeding, but he seemed not to feel the pain. He wiped the sweat from his face, grinned, and revealed a set of white teeth.
"Sir, what do you think of my punch?"
"This is getting interesting."
"9
Lu Cheng nodded and reached out to pat his shoulder.
The muscles are firm, the tendons are taut, and it's piping hot to the touch.
"Much faster than Shunzi and Xiaodouzi."
Lu Cheng didn't hold back his praise, his gaze sweeping over his three apprentices. "Shunzi is like an old ox, steady and reliable, suitable for maintaining the status quo. Xiaodouzi is too impulsive and can't settle down, suitable for a more agile approach. Only you—"
Lu Cheng looked into Lu Feng's eyes, which always held a hint of ruthlessness.
"Ruthless, steady-handed, and able to endure hardship, he's a promising talent for martial arts. But remember, a strong fist is good, but the heart must not be hardened to the point of stone. Cultivate virtue before practicing martial arts, or you'll just become a killing machine."
Lu Feng nodded as if he understood, then scratched his head.
"I will obey my master. Whoever my master tells me to kill, I will kill; whoever my master tells me to cultivate virtue, I will cultivate virtue."
Lu Cheng chuckled. This little wolf cub was still stubborn as ever.
He took out a silver note from his pocket, which he had prepared beforehand, and handed it directly to Lu Feng.
"Here are fifty silver dollars."
Lu Feng's hand trembled, and he almost dropped it. Fifty silver dollars would be enough for an ordinary family to live on for two or three years.
"Sir, this—this is too much."
"Take it."
Lu Cheng said calmly, "Go and get yourself and Shunzi a few more decent outfits. We're respectable people now, don't go out dressed like beggars. Also, go to Neiliansheng and order a few good pairs of training shoes."
"Practicing martial arts wears out your shoes. I see the soles of your shoes are all worn through, and your toes are almost sticking out."
Shunzi and Xiaodouzi also came over, watching eagerly.
"Alright! Thank you for the reward, Master!"
Lu Feng took the money, overjoyed, and turned to Shunzi with a wink, "Senior Brother, shall we go out for hot pot tonight?"
Looking at his apprentice, Lu Cheng felt a mix of emotions.
Back in the days at the human market, this kid would fight to the death for half a rotten bun, his eyes filled with utter despair.
Now, he is a rising young master in Beiping, his eyes shining with hope.
This is fate, and also destiny.
And Lu Cheng was the one who changed his fate.
As the sun rose higher, the Lu family compound began to come alive with activity.
The old lady in the kitchen brought out breakfast.
Good heavens, that's a real feast.
A large bowl of steaming pork and scallion buns, with thin skins and generous fillings, bursting with juicy flavor with every bite.
A large pot of golden-brown millet porridge, topped with a thick layer of rice oil.
There were also finely shredded fermented soybean paste, drizzled with sesame oil, served with freshly fried dough rings.
-
These teenagers were at the age where they could "eat their fathers to death," and practicing martial arts was very taxing. They surrounded him like hungry wolves.
Besides the chewing sounds, there were other noises coming from the east wing of the compound.
"Ee-ya—"
The voice, honing its vocals, could pierce the clouds and split rocks.
That was Guan Erniang practicing martial arts with Qinglian and Hongyu.
Now that the Qingyun Troupe has gained a great reputation, it is even more important not to neglect its basic skills.
There's a saying in the Peking Opera world: "If you don't practice for one day, you'll know it; if you don't practice for two days, your colleagues will know it; if you don't practice for three days, the audience will know it."
After washing up, Lu Cheng changed into a clean blue cloth robe, making him look exceptionally refreshed and refined. He didn't resemble a decisive martial artist at all, but rather a schoolteacher.
He walked to the east courtyard.
Qinglian was shouting at the base of the wall, her face flushed red.
"stop."
Lu Cheng listened for a while, frowned slightly, and walked over.
Qinglian was startled and quickly stopped, timidly calling out, "Master."
Although these girls are now practicing their movements and singing under Guan Erniang's tutelage, learning the skills of a female role, their address of "Master" is sincere and shows the utmost respect.
After all, it was Lu Cheng who personally rescued these unfortunate children from the mire of the human market.
If it weren't for Lu Cheng providing them with food and clothing, and setting rules to protect them, they would have starved to death on the streets long ago, or ended up in even more wretched places.
Don't hold your breath.
Lu Cheng stretched out his finger, tapped her dantian, and then pointed to the back of her head.
"Opera singing emphasizes the resonance from the back of the head." What you're doing is shouting with your bare voice; it sounds loud, but it's a harsh, unresonant sound that doesn't carry far, and you'll ruin your voice if you sing like that for too long.
"Remember, focus your energy in your dantian and lift your intention from the top of your head. Your voice should sound as if it's emanating from the back of your head; this is called 'establishing the sound.'"
As Lu Cheng spoke, he casually demonstrated a line from the opera "Su San's Release": "Su San left Hongdong County—"
'
This sound, though effortless, was like a resounding bell, the sound condensed into a single line that drilled directly into the ear, sending chills down one's spine.
The young actors around them were stunned, their eyes wide with amazement.
Although Guan Erniang was the proper teacher of these children, when she saw Lu Cheng bypassing her and giving instructions directly, she not only did not show any displeasure at being overshadowed, but instead smiled from ear to ear.
Zhou Daikui, standing to the side, gave a thumbs-up and jokingly said in a deliberately affected tone.
"Wow, Master Lu, you're amazing! Your voice, so clear and resonant, would probably make even Boss Mei give you a wide berth if you were on stage."
"Master, please stop making fun of me."
Lu Cheng smiled helplessly, "You'll have to keep a close eye on things here and make sure they don't slack off."
As Shunzi emerged from the east courtyard, he was munching on the remaining few steamed buns.
"Shunzi" (a type of Chinese character)
"Here!" Shunzi quickly swallowed the bun in her mouth, choking so hard that her eyes rolled back.
"Get ready, we're going to Hufangqiao."
"Hufangqiao? To Qinghua Pool?"
Shunzi was taken aback and placed the tray on the stone table in the courtyard. "Master, going for a bath so early in the morning? The bathhouse there doesn't open until 9 AM."
"Not taking a bath."
Lu Cheng shook his head, picked up a steamed bun, and took a bite. The meat filling was a perfect balance of lean and fatty meat, and the broth was delicious.
"Go and see Master Tong. He suffered internal injuries after the incident at Guanghe Restaurant, and I haven't seen him much lately. I wonder how he's recovering."
Shunzi said "Oh" and quickly set out the bowls and chopsticks.
"Then I'll go hitch up the car first. You take your time eating, and we'll leave when you're done."
Hufangqiao, the backyard of Qinghua Pool.
This is a famous bathhouse in Beiping (Beijing), which, in addition to bathing, also offers massage, pedicure, and bloodletting services.
A damp white towel hung by the door, and steaming white mist rose out from the door curtain.
Since receiving that "imperial decree," although Tong Sanjin was still nominally employed at the bathhouse, he was actually already the Lu family's tutor.
But he's a strange person.
-
Born into the Plain Yellow Banner, he was a frequent visitor to the Prince's mansion in his early years and a top expert in the wrestling camp.
But after so many years since the fall of the Qing Dynasty, his arrogance had long been worn away, and he had come to love the down-to-earth atmosphere of the bathhouse.
He said he wasn't used to living in a grand mansion, complaining that it was a place for "young masters" and too restrictive.
Despite his frail physique, he still preferred the warm, humid atmosphere of the bathhouse, feeling a sense of human presence.
When Lu Cheng arrived, Tong Sanjin was lying on the edge of his private little hot spring.
This small pond is not open to the public; it's his privilege.
He held a purple clay teapot in his hand, spout to his lips, sipping tea with gusto, humming an unknown tune as he did so, his back full of fat jiggling with each hum.
"Master Tong, you're living a pretty comfortable life."
Lu Cheng walked over with a smile, his feet treading on the slippery floor tiles as if walking on flat ground.
Upon hearing this sound, Tong Sanjin's fat body shuddered violently, and he almost dropped the purple clay teapot.
He quickly rolled over and got up, splashing water in the process; his movements were surprisingly agile.
"Oh my, Mr. Lu! Why did you come in person?"
Although Tong Sanjin was polite and used honorifics, his demeanor was much more approachable than before, and he no longer had that aloof and arrogant air about him.
"I've come to see you."
Lu Cheng didn't mind the water stains on the ground. He pulled up a bamboo chair and sat down, looking at Tong Sanjin's round belly.
"You suffered internal injuries in the battle at Guanghe Tower last time. How has your recovery been?"
Mentioning this, Tong Sanjin's chubby face showed a wry smile, and he patted his belly, making a crisp "slap slap" sound.
"Hey, I'm getting old, I'm no longer useful."
"Nalan Yuanshu's 'Horse-Spotting Palm' was extremely insidious. Although his fat body absorbed a lot of the force, the penetrating power still damaged his lung meridian."
"When it's cloudy or rainy, my back aches like it's being pricked with needles, and it's hard to breathe. The only way I feel a little better is to soak in this hot water and let the steam help."
Lu Cheng didn't say anything, but simply stood up and rolled up his sleeves.
"Lie down properly."
"Huh?" Tong Sanjin was taken aback.
"Let me give you a massage."
Tong Sanjin's eyes widened in disbelief.
He knew Lu Cheng's current identity. He was a grandmaster, the top figure in the martial arts world of Beiping at that time, and the "shining light of Chinese martial arts".
To condescend to give a massage to a bathhouse attendant is a kindness more precious than ten thousand taels of gold.
"This—this is unacceptable! You're making this old servant feel terrible—" Tong Sanjin subconsciously used a term from the old society.
"What do you mean by 'old servant'? We're brothers."
Lu Cheng pressed down on his shoulder, his voice firm and unyielding, "Lie down."
Tong Sanjin dared not move, obediently turning around to reveal his broad, wall-like back.
The flesh on his back was as thick as two door panels, but upon closer inspection, the skin color was somewhat dark, which was a sign of stagnant blood and qi.
Lu Cheng took a deep breath.
The "Catching Toad Strength" is activated.
"Coo-quack-quack"
A faint rumbling sound came from within its belly, as if a golden toad was swallowing and spitting out the sun and moon.
His palm touched Tong Sanjin's back, and a warm, mellow, yet vibrant internal energy slowly seeped into the thick layer of fat through his palm.
"hiss----"
Tong Sanjin groaned comfortably, all the fat on his body relaxing.
The feeling was like a warm current gradually dissolving his congested and stiff meridians, forcing out the coldness that had accumulated in his bones.
Lu Cheng's technique was not heavy, but extremely penetrating.
Each press is coordinated with a special breathing rhythm.
"Master Tong, your skills are indeed excellent, the wrestling techniques of the Shanpu Camp emphasize using weight to overpower others." But at your age, your energy and blood are declining, and this flesh becomes a burden; it can hold others down, but it also crushes you."
As Lu Cheng massaged her, he casually remarked as if they were having a casual chat.
"I have a breathing method for 'Yi Jin Duan Gu' (a type of traditional Chinese medicine) that I learned from 'Xing Yi Zhen Quan' (a classic text on Chinese martial arts). I'll have Shunzi copy it down for you later."
"With proper training, although it can't reverse aging, it can make your muscles more flexible. By turning dead flesh into living flesh, the injury will naturally heal."
Tong Sanjin's body jolted violently.
These days, the true secrets of each family and school are more precious than life itself, and people believe in passing them down to their sons but not their daughters, and would rather take them to the grave than pass them on to outsiders.
Lu Cheng actually wants to pass on this secret technique to him?
He turned around abruptly, tears streaming down his face, indistinguishable from water droplets.
"Master Lu—you're—you're preaching!"
"What have I, Tong Sanjin, done to deserve this? My life belongs to you."
"Alright."
Lu Cheng patted his shoulder, finished his practice, and casually picked up a hot towel to wipe his hands.
"We're all family, no need for formalities."
"Get well soon, those wolves are waiting for you to teach them wrestling. Especially that kid Lu Feng, his strength has been increasing rapidly lately, but his lower body isn't stable enough yet. He needs your 'Eighteen Falling Techniques' to toughen him up."
"Don't worry, as long as I, Tong Sanjin, have a breath left, I'll train those kids for you."
Tong Sanjin patted his chest and assured him, his voice full of energy, showing no trace of his earlier dejection.
After leaving Qinghua Pool, Lu Cheng made another detour to Dashilan outside Qianmen.
Tongrentang is located around here.
But he didn't come to buy medicine; he came to see Ah Bing.
Since his eyes were cured last time, Ah Bing specially rented a small, detached courtyard next to Tongrentang.
Firstly, it would be convenient for him to receive acupuncture treatments from Mr. Le every day to consolidate his recovery. Secondly, he said he wanted to "pray for" Lu Cheng there and also help Mr. Le organize his medical records as a way of repaying his kindness.
The courtyard was quiet, with only the rustling of locust leaves in the wind.
Ah Bing wasn't wearing the sunglasses that had been with him for half his life; he was sitting at a stone table.
On the table was a large-print medical book, and he was holding a magnifying glass, looking at it with great difficulty but also with great concentration.
His face was almost pressed against the pages of the book, like a child just starting school.
Sunlight shone on his weathered face. Although his eyes were still somewhat cloudy, with grayish-white pupils, they already had a sparkle in them—a longing for light.
"Ah Bing".
Lu Cheng called out softly, afraid of startling him.
Ah Bing suddenly looked up, squinted to make out the details, and then his face instantly broke into a wide smile, his wrinkles smoothing out.
"Mr. Lu, you've arrived!"
He put down the book, stood up somewhat hastily, and almost knocked over the chair.
With slightly unsteady steps, he stumbled and staggered towards us.
My eyes are better, but my balance and muscle memory will need time to recover.
But this is a world of difference compared to the blind man who used to have to feel his way along the wall and whose world was completely dark.
"What are you looking at?" Lu Cheng smiled and helped him up, leading him back to sit on the stone bench.
"Look—look at the old almanacs and some medical records."
Ah Bing smiled sheepishly, his hand stroking the pages of the book.
"Mr. Lu, do you know? After my eyes recovered, everything seemed new and exciting to me. Even watching ants moving on the ground could keep me glued to my screen for half an hour."
"A couple of days ago, I went to Tianqiao. I watched the people pulling shadow puppets, performing magic tricks, and doing acrobatic feats."
"As I looked at it, I was reminded of the year 2000 —"
At this point, Ah Bing's face suddenly darkened, and his previously excited voice became low.
"Back then, I was also a martial arts practitioner. I practiced 'divine attack,' which is essentially invoking spirits to possess you."
"Back then, we all believed it. We believed what our senior brother said: as long as we drank the talisman water, recited the incantation, and invited Guan Yu and the Monkey King to possess us, we would be invulnerable to swords and spears and could withstand the foreigners' guns and cannons."
Ah Bing's fingers trembled slightly, and his gaze seemed to pierce through the courtyard wall in front of him, returning to that era of blood and fire.
"We fought a battle with the foreign devils in Langfang."
"That scene—"
"We, hundreds of brothers, shirtless, wearing red belts, wielding broadswords and spears, charged forward shouting 'Support the Qing, Destroy the Foreigners!' That day, I felt like I was possessed by a god, with inexhaustible energy."
"But on the other side—"
"Across from us were foreigners' platoons of gunners, and those Maxim machine guns that were firing and spewing fire."
"Da da da————"
Ah Bing imitated the sound of a machine gun, and his body trembled violently.
"Those rows of people fell like wheat being harvested. Blood and flesh flew everywhere, and intestines spilled all over the ground."
"All that talk of divine protection, all that talk of invulnerability—it's all fake, all a lie, in the face of bullets!"
Two streams of tears flowed down Ah Bing's cheeks.
"My eyes were burned by the foreigners' poison gas. It was green smoke that stung so badly that I couldn't open my eyes and my throat felt like it was on fire."
"But the eyes in my heart were also blinded by the smoke at that moment."
"I hate it!"
Ah Bing slammed his hand on the stone table.
"We hate the ruthlessness of foreigners, but we hate ourselves even more—our ignorance! We've practiced kung fu our whole lives, but it's all a joke in front of that lump of iron."
"At that time, I thought, what's the use of kung fu if you practice it so well? Can it stop bullets? Can it stop cannons?"
So after I went blind, I never mentioned martial arts again, I only played the erhu.
"Until I met you—"
Ah Bing raised his head, his eyes, now blind again, fixed intently on Lu Cheng, his gaze filled with fanaticism.
"Master Lu, in that battle at Guanghe Tower, you used your fists to tell everyone that kung fu is not dead!"
"You have truly picked up the backbone we've lost for so many years."
"My life, Ah Bing, has been worthwhile."
"To be able to see this day, to be able to play the violin for you, even if I die, I can smile as I go to see those brothers who died under foreign guns."
Lu Cheng listened, his heart heavy.
This is not just about restoring sight to a blind man, but also about the deep-seated anxieties of a generation of martial artists.
That was self-esteem shattered by modern firearms, which is being pieced back together little by little.
He reached out and patted Ah Bing's shoulder heavily.
"Ah Bing, live well."
"The future is still long."
"We not only want to stop bullets, but also let the world know that Chinese kung fu is for protecting our country and standing tall."
"Foreign guns and cannons may be powerful, but they cannot surpass the will of the people, nor this spirit and energy!"
"Um!"
Ah Bing nodded heavily, wiped away his tears, and turned to take out an erhu from the house.
"Master Lu, I have composed a new piece of music called 'Dragon Raises Its Head,' which I wrote especially for you."
"Zheng—"
'
The bow was drawn.
It is no longer the mournful and sorrowful "Moon Reflected in the Second Spring" of the past.
The music began like a thunderclap, then surged like a mighty river, passionate and stirring.
Lu Cheng listened quietly.
In a daze, I seemed to see a giant dragon awakening from its slumber and roaring to the sky.
After leaving Ah Bing's place, Lu Cheng's emotions remained unsettled for a long time.
The sun had already reached noon, and the streets of Dashilan were bustling with noise.
-
The sounds of vendors hawking their wares, the clatter of carts and horses, and the haggling of prices blended together.
This is the essence of everyday life, and this is what he wants to protect.
Back in the study of the Lu residence, Lu Cheng was just about to brew a pot of tea to soothe his throat when Shunzi ran in with a strange expression.
He was holding a pink invitation card in his hand. Before he even entered the room, Lu Cheng could smell a rich, powdery fragrance—the scent of fine French perfume.
"Master."
Shunzi handed over the invitation, her eyes darting around as if she were holding a hot potato.
"It was sent by someone from the Fourth Concubine of Marshal Ma's mansion."
"They said—please come to Tingyu Pavilion to admire the flowers."
Lu Cheng frowned slightly and took the invitation.
Enjoying the flowers?
What time is it? How can Yao Hong, the fourth concubine known as "Rouge Tiger," still have such leisure time?
Moreover, their relationship became somewhat complicated after that last drinking session.
Yao Hong, that woman, is like a black rose with thorns—beautiful, yet dangerous.
"Let's push it down."
Lu Cheng threw the invitation on the table. "Just say I'm busy working on my new drama and don't have time for romance."
He's the kind of person who dances on the edge of a knife, and he doesn't want to get involved in these romantic entanglements.
Shunzi didn't move. Instead, he took a step forward, lowered his voice, and looked like a thief. He even turned around to look at the door.
"Master—I'm afraid I can't refuse this time."
Why?
"The one who delivered the invitation was Manager Zhao, Yao Hong's confidant. He told me this secretly."
Shunzi whispered in Lu Cheng's ear, "Fourth Madam said it doesn't matter whether we spend money or not."
"The main thing is—the matter you asked her to do last time, there's been some progress."
"The thing is in her hands."
"She said that if you want it, you can go and get it alone tonight."
Lu Cheng's previously nonchalant gaze froze instantly, then flashed with a sharp light.
That matter?
What else could it be besides that map of the Fengtai camp's defenses?
He had asked Yao Hong to use her connections at the Marshal's Mansion to get it done in order to deal with Commander Zhang, to find out the details of the military camp, and to give a decent "return gift" to the "Black Wolf Group" assassins he had previously killed.
At the time, I was just trying it out.
Fengtai Camp is a military stronghold, and its defense map is classified. Even if Yao Hong, as a concubine, was favored, she might not have been able to access it.
Unexpectedly, in just a few days, she actually managed to get her hands on it?
This woman's power, or rather, the shady methods and relationships behind her, are indeed not to be underestimated.
The waters of Marshal Ma's mansion are deeper than I imagined.
"The map of Fengtai Camp—" Lu Cheng put down his teacup, a glint of shrewdness flashing in his eyes.
Having this thing is like having Zhang's Achilles' heel.
Where are the visible sentry posts, where are the hidden posts, where are the machine gun positions, where are the officers' quarters—Commander Zhang's own routine is immediately clear.
In addition, his [Turtle Breathing Technique] allows him to stealthily conceal himself, his [Fiery Eyes] reveal the finest details, and his [Ghostly Shadow Steps] grant him exceptional agility and speed—
The division commander, relying on the heavily guarded and important military camp, thought he was safe and sound, but his head was essentially temporarily residing on his neck.
The temptation is too great.
But he also knew that this was probably a trap.
Yao Hong, that woman, is no pushover.
Sending him alone to the backyard of the Marshal's Mansion late at night at such a sensitive time is playing with fire.
The slightest misstep could lead to utter disgrace and even irreparable ruin.
"Master, how about—"
Seeing Lu Cheng's changing expression, Shunzi became even more worried.
"I'll take a few junior brothers and sneak over there ahead of time to wait outside Tingyu Pavilion. That way, we can have backup if anything goes wrong."
"That's the Marshal's mansion after all, and it's that fourth concubine—I always feel uneasy."
"Need not."
Lu Cheng stood up and reached out to pick up the pink post again.
The post was soft and warm to the touch, with a line of delicate handwriting on it.
The moon rises above the willow branches, a rendezvous awaits after dusk. If you do not come, the painting will turn to ashes.
At the end of the writing, there was no signature, only a faint red mark resembling a lip print.
It's a threat, and it's flirting.
Lu Cheng smiled, a smile tinged with confidence.
"Since we're here to admire the flowers, we need to be in a good mood."
"Shunzi, go prepare the car for me."
"Also, iron that new moon-white long gown I made."
"I'm going to keep this appointment tonight."
""
As evening falls, the city lights begin to twinkle.
The nightlife in Beiping was just beginning when the sounds of traditional Chinese string and wind instruments drifted from the Eight Great Hutongs.
In the backyard of Marshal Ma's mansion, at Tingyuxuan Pavilion.
Tingyuxuan is a relatively independent and exquisite small garden within the mansion, famous for its extensive planting of crabapple trees.
At this time of year, the crabapple blossoms are in full bloom, their pink and white flowers clustered on the branches. Bathed in the deepening twilight and illuminated by the newly lit lanterns, they appear exceptionally charming and captivating, their subtle fragrance wafting through the air.
Lu Cheng's carriage stopped at the side gate of the Marshal's Mansion.
Manager Zhao was already waiting there. When he saw Lu Cheng, he bowed respectfully, but there was a complicated look in his eyes.
"Boss Lu, Fourth Madam has instructed that you be led directly to Tingyu Pavilion. Please follow me."
As they walked through corridors and courtyards, the maids and servants they encountered all lowered their heads and gave way, keeping their eyes straight ahead.
Upon reaching the entrance of Tingyu Pavilion, Steward Zhao stopped and bowed, saying, "Boss Lu, please. Fourth Madam is waiting inside. I won't go in."
The courtyard was quiet; apart from the rustling of the wind through the flower branches, there wasn't even a chirping of insects.
Clearly, the servants had been deliberately dismissed.
The only sound was the soft rustling of crabapple petals falling to the ground in the wind.
The warm yellow light shone in the room, and a graceful figure was reflected in the window screen as she dressed in front of the mirror.
The undulating curves of the shadow made one's heart skip a beat.
"Boss Lu, since you're here, please come in."
Yao Hong's languid voice drifted from inside, tinged with a hint of drunkenness, like a cat's paw scratching at the tip of one's heart.
Lu Cheng took a deep breath, calmed himself, and pushed open the door to enter.
Inside, the warmth wafted in, mingling with the strong aroma of wine and cosmetics.
This time, Yao Hong didn't wear her usual tight-fitting cheongsam, but instead changed into a loose-fitting purple Suzhou embroidered nightgown with a silky texture.
The belt was tied loosely, and the neckline was slightly open, revealing a large expanse of fair and delicate skin, as well as her exquisite collarbone.
She was holding a white jade wine pot in her hand, and was sitting at the table pouring herself a drink.
Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were unfocused.
When she saw Lu Cheng enter, her eyes sparkled and a playful smile appeared on her lips.
"I knew you'd come."
Lu Cheng didn't respond; he simply stood at the door, his gaze clear and neither humble nor arrogant.
"Fourth concubine."
"Let's not beat around the bush."
"Where is the map?"
"What's the rush?"
Yao Hong stood up, her bare feet stepping onto the thick carpet, and walked step by step to Lu Cheng.
The scent emanating from her, a mixture of alcohol and her natural fragrance, wafted straight into Lu Cheng's arms.
She extended a finger adorned with nail polish and gently poked Lu Cheng's chest, drawing circles on his heart with her fingertip.
"The picture is on me."
"If you want it—"
Her eyes were alluring.
"Come and get it yourself."
Lu Cheng looked down at the woman struggling with power and desire.
With his keen eyes, he saw a hint of nervousness hidden beneath her alluring demeanor.
Lu Cheng sighed.
He didn't reach for anything, but instead grabbed Yao Hong's restless hand.
"Yao Hong".
He called her by her full name for the first time.
"This image is a deadly weapon."
"Giving it to me is like dragging yourself into this vortex as well."
"Have you thought it through?"
Yao Hong's body stiffened.
Looking into Lu Cheng's earnest eyes, the lingering feelings and calculations in her heart suddenly vanished.
She withdrew her hand, turned around, and took out a neatly folded piece of brown paper from the close-fitting bodice.
It still carried her body heat and fragrance.
"for you."
She shoved the drawing into Lu Cheng's hand, her eyes reddening.
"I am not afraid of death."
"My only fear is that I'll never meet a decent man in my life."
"Lu Cheng, I'm giving you this picture."
You owe me a lot.
"I've got it."
Lu Cheng held the picture, feeling its weight.
He looked at Yao Hong deeply, nodded solemnly, and clasped his hands in a salute.
"I will remember this kindness."
"If there is a future, I will repay you handsomely."
After saying that, he didn't linger and turned to leave.
Yao Hong was left alone, standing in the empty warm pavilion, watching that resolute figure leave, and smiled foolishly.
As she laughed, tears streamed down her face, wetting the embroidered golden phoenix.
They left the Marshal's Mansion.
The night wind was cold, blowing away the scent of perfume from my clothes.
Lu Cheng sat in the carriage, drew the curtain, and unfolded the parchment.
By the dim light of the oil lamp in the carriage, he could make out the contents of the document.
It was an extremely detailed defense map.
He clearly marked where the sentries were, where the heavy machine guns were, the patterns of the searchlights, and even the pattern of how Commander Zhang changed rooms to sleep every night.
The handwriting is somewhat messy, clearly indicating that it was hastily copied.
I don't know how she got the "good" rating.
Lu Cheng's eyes flashed with murderous intent as he lightly brushed his fingers across the red dots on the map.
Everything is ready.
"Commander Zhang—"
"Your lifespan has come to an end."
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