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

Chapter 160 Generous Rewards!

The fist slashed straight in.

There was no earth-shattering roar like Mars colliding with Earth, nor any horrific scene of broken bones, torn flesh, or flying blood.

Among the more than two thousand eyes in the audience, Lu Cheng's half-step collapsing fist, which combined "Dragon Form," "Reversed River Chariot," and "True Meaning of White Tiger," was surprisingly silent the moment it touched Funakoshi Kazuo's chest.

It was like a drop of spring rain falling into a deep, unfathomable spring.

"Buzz"

A ripple, barely perceptible to true masters, suddenly spread through the air, originating from Lu Cheng's fist.

Funakoshi Kazuo's "Great God" aura, which was said to be able to crush steel, couldn't even put up a fight. It melted away without a trace, like ice and snow meeting the scorching sun.

Time seemed to stretch out infinitely at this moment.

At that moment, Funakoshi Kazuo's blind, pale eyes suddenly bulged outwards, and a profound shock and enlightenment, as if he had seen the true "Great Way," emerged from the depths of his eyes.

He didn't fly away; his body remained firmly rooted to the spot.

There wasn't even a tiny fist mark left on his chest; his skin and flesh were completely intact, as if Lu Cheng's punch was just a casual greeting between old friends.

But----

"Sizzle—!"

A sound like tearing silk rang out.

Behind Kazuo Funakoshi, his incredibly durable black silk kimono, sewn by a top Japanese craftsman, suddenly burst open from the back without warning.

Instead of exploding into pieces, it transformed into hundreds and thousands of black "butterflies".

That was the fabric being directly shattered by an extremely penetrating and exquisitely refined internal force.

Black fabric scraps, like fluttering butterflies, scattered and danced tragically under the pale, gas lamplight beams of the stage.

The invisible fist intent that pierced through the body did not diminish in force.

"Pfft"

Three feet behind Chuan Yueyifu, the century-old elm wood support pillar, as thick as an adult's waist and used to support the stage backdrop, suddenly let out a mournful cry.

There was no breakage, no collapse.

Instead, right before everyone's eyes, the center of the wooden pillar silently turned into a cloud of wood dust, which flowed down and piled up on the ground into a small mound.

It can strike an ox across a mountain, its force penetrating even metal and stone.

This is the power of transformation!

This is an unparalleled punch that incorporates Taoist true energy!

"Crunch—crunch—"

Funakoshi Kazuo's thin Adam's apple bobbed twice, as if he wanted to say something.

His once-unrivaled vitality, honed over six decades and unparalleled in East Asia, was instantly severed from its foundation by Lu Cheng's righteous and awe-inspiring fist intent, which felt like divine punishment.

His internal organs had already turned to dust in those invisible ripples.

"The Great Way"

Kazuo Funakoshi uttered the last two words of his life in barely audible Japanese.

Subsequently, this arrogant Japanese grandmaster, who had attempted to break the backbone of Chinese martial arts, suddenly collapsed to the ground.

"Thump."

In front of more than two thousand Chinese spectators, on this small stage, she knelt heavily before Lu Cheng.

Head drooping, life extinguished.

The entire venue was deathly silent.

Even the Japanese military police in the private rooms on the second floor, who were carrying foreign guns, were like soulless puppets at this moment, their gun barrels hanging down and their bodies trembling.

died?

One of the three great mountains of the martial arts world of the Great Japanese Empire, just like that—died?

There was no earth-shattering battle, not even a drop of blood was shed, yet he was punched to his knees and died by a young man in theatrical costume.

On the stage, Lu Cheng didn't even glance down at the kneeling corpse at his feet.

His blood-stained white clothes fluttered in the remaining strong wind, and the beads of sweat on his forehead glistened under the lamplight.

His eyes, painted with the makeup of an old man, were slightly half-closed. The murderous intent in his eyes receded like the tide, replaced by an extreme desolation that came from having seen through the rise and fall of dynasties.

The punches are over, but the play isn't over yet.

"Thump!"

Behind the curtain, Mei Lanfang's well-maintained hands trembled slightly from the exertion, but he still steadily and heavily struck the final drumbeat of "Battle of Taiping".

The drumbeats, like muffled thunder, resonated in the hearts of every Chinese person.

"whimper"

Ah Bing's broken erhu, with only one string left, emitted a mournful cry like a lone wolf weeping blood.

Lu Cheng made a move.

He turned around, bent down, and with one hand pulled the broken white waxwood pole, covered in sawdust and without a spearhead, from the cracked wooden plank.

Instead of taking the light, large strides typical of martial arts performers, he staggered along, dragging the broken pole, step by step, toward the very front of the stage.

The broken ash branches dragged across the wooden floor, making a "sizzling" sound, as if tearing at people's hearts.

At this moment, he was not the lofty martial arts master, but Hua Yun, the Ming general who defended Taiping City alone, running out of ammunition and food, yet choosing death over surrender.

Lu Cheng stopped at the edge of the platform.

His gaze passed over the red stamp at his feet, over the armed military police, and over the foreign firm managers and traitors.

Those eyes were filled with deep affection for this shattered land, and also with grief and indignation towards these apathetic onlookers.

He took a deep breath, focusing his energy in his dantian, and the last bit of strength from his "Toad-Fishing Strength" transformed into the most mournful "weak tone" and "gag" in the old male role.

"I'll risk my life—to repay a friend's kindness—"

'

His voice was hoarse and dry.

It carried a tragic grandeur, as if one were about to vomit out their heart, liver, and internal organs.

Immediately afterwards, the tone suddenly rose, soaring straight to the heavens, piercing through clouds and splitting rocks.

"To leave behind a loyal heart—to shine through history!!!"

This line of singing has no embellishment whatsoever; it's all delivered with a raw, unfiltered voice.

The blood-red pattern originally drawn with cinnabar at the corner of Lu Cheng's eye actually cracked open, and a drop of bright red blood slid down his eye.

This is not just Hua Yun's swan song.

It was Lu Cheng who, using this small stage, addressed his compatriots throughout the city and the country with a resounding and powerful requiem—a hymn of remembrance.

Every word was written in tears, every sound like thunder.

After singing the last line, Lu Cheng suddenly slammed the broken white waxwood stick in his hand downwards.

"when--!!"

The broken pole was deeply embedded in the thick wooden plank at the edge of the stage, penetrating the wood completely, and the pole itself continued to vibrate with a "humming" sound.

Lu Cheng did not take his final bow.

He didn't even glance at anyone in the audience.

He only glanced deeply at the Japanese consul and his traitors in the second-floor private room, their faces ashen.

That one glance was like a knife branded onto my soul.

Then, he resolutely turned around, flicked the hem of his tattered, blood-stained clothes, and strode into the shadows of the side curtain.

"出将" means "to withdraw from a military post".

Only the kneeling corpse of a Japanese master remained in the very center of the stage; at the edge of the stage, a lone, trembling white wax spear stood. Inside the Chinese Grand Theatre, the lights were still on.

But the more than 3,000 audience members seemed to be under some kind of collective spell.

One minute.

Two minutes.

five minutes.

For a full five minutes, the theater, which could hold three thousand people, was deathly silent.

There were no deafening "good"s as usual, and no piles of reward money flying everywhere.

Only the lingering melody of the erhu after its string broke drifted in the air.

In the front row, the rickshaw puller, who had been saving every penny for a month to watch the play, was already in tears.

He looked at the lonely broken gun on the stage, and suddenly his knees buckled. He knelt down in the aisle, covered his face with his hands, and let out a suppressed sob.

The wailing sound was like the first domino toppling.

In the private room on the second floor, Mr. Gu, who usually valued grandeur and scoffed at martial arts performances, was now slumped in his armchair, tears streaming down his face, unaware that his gold-rimmed glasses had fallen to the ground.

"When a nation is about to perish, there will surely be monsters. When a nation is about to rise, there will surely be such heroic figures—" Old Mr. Gu pounded his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

In the corner, the old Tianjin boxing masters, who had been suppressed by the foreigners and were even somewhat disheartened, now had red eyes, hugged each other, and wailed loudly.

"Master, all our training in boxing hasn't been in vain; our roots are still intact."

"Master Lu is risking his life to bring honor to our martial arts world and to revive the spirit of the Chinese people."

There was no applause.

Because this play has transcended the scope of "play".

It is a knife that cuts through the numb shell of people in this chaotic world, revealing the still beating, still burning Chinese heart inside.

Three thousand people wept throughout the theater.

The cries contained humiliation and resentment, but even more so, a long-lost sense of exhilaration—the awakening of one's fighting spirit.

Those foreign reporters who were originally arrogant all put down their cameras at this moment.

American journalist Jack removed his top hat and bowed deeply to the empty stage.

"This is not a performance."

Jack's eyes were filled with tears.

"This is the backbone of a nation, declaring to the world that they will not yield."

Backstage.

As soon as Lu Cheng lifted the heavy curtain, he stumbled slightly.

The backlash from "Overlord's Armor Removal" was even more severe than he had imagined.

Once the three times the amount of vital energy that had been forcibly squeezed out subsided, the body felt like a sponge that had been drained of water, with waves of exhaustion washing over it.

"Master!"

Shunzi and Lu Feng reacted quickly, grabbing Lu Cheng's arms tightly from both sides.

Lu Feng, that little wolf cub, had tears streaming down his face, which landed on Lu Cheng's sleeve.

"Master, you've suffered so much—"

-

Lu Cheng leaned on his apprentice's broad shoulder, took a slight breath, and a relieved smile appeared on his lips.

"What's so bitter about it?"

"This play was performed with great enjoyment."

Inside the room, Mei Lanfang, Liu Wenhua, Yang Chengfu, and Abing—everyone spontaneously stood in two rows.

He didn't speak, but just silently watched the young man in his blood-stained clothes.

They knew that from this night onward, the martial arts world of the North and the world of Chinese opera had a true god.

Just as Lu Cheng was helped into the armchair and closed his eyes to prepare for meditation...

"boom-!!!"

Deep within his sea of ​​consciousness, a thunderous roar erupted, as if the heavens and earth were being created anew.

The normally calm and even golden characters now displayed a dazzling golden light, as if scorching the heavens and boiling the seas, appearing wildly in my mind.

[Current Performance: Battle of Taiping]

[Character: Hua Yun (A loyal subject who died for his country)]

[Commentary: "A single punch cleaved the heavens and earth, a single song summoned the soul of the nation! You used the stage as an altar, and the Japanese pirate master as a sacrifice, not only breaking the backbone of the foreign enemy, but also awakening the slumbering spirit of millions of Chinese people on this land. The drama was real, but the emotions were real, reaching a state beyond words and description. This battle should be recorded in history and remembered for generations to come!"]

Overall Rating: Peerless! (Surpassing even the highest-grade!)

[Reward Received:]

[1. A fragment of the Tai Chi Chuan manual (a unique Tai Chi text)!]

(Note: Yin alone cannot produce, Yang alone cannot grow. This is a fragment of a handwritten scroll by Grandmaster Zhang Sanfeng, containing the principle of ultimate softness and transformation. It can complete the ultimate strength of Xingyi Five Elements Twelve Forms, where Yin and Yang intertwine, and all methods return to one!)

[2. Special Status: Pre-Embracing the Elixir Experience Card (Limited Time - One Incense Stick's Worth)!]

(Note: The opportunity has arrived, and the creation is perfect. After use, one can comprehend the supreme realm of "breaking through the void and seeing the indestructible spirit." The marrow cleansing progress is forcibly increased to 50%, and the qi and blood are refined, showing signs of forming a pill. This is only for comprehension and does not increase lifespan.)

"Buzz" 6

The moment Lu Cheng saw the two rewards, his mind, which had been somewhat scattered due to exhaustion, jolted.

A fragment of the Tai Chi Chuan manual!

This is like rain after a long drought.

Although his previous Xingyi Quan and Bajiquan were incredibly powerful, after killing Funakoshi Kazuo, he clearly felt the "crispness" that came after such extreme power.

Without the perfect balance of gentleness, this skill will eventually damage one's very foundation.

And this fragment of the Tai Chi scroll is the key to unlocking the gate of Yin and Yang's convergence.

But what made his heart pound even harder was the second reward.

[Baodan Pre-requisite Experience Card]!

Embrace the elixir!

That is a realm of immortals that countless martial arts grandmasters could never reach, even after spending their entire lives and dying in the deep mountains.

It concentrates all the body's essence, energy, and spirit into a single point, perfectly round and flawless, like the golden elixir formed by Taoists.

Although it's just an experience lasting for the time it takes to burn an incense stick, it's a truly "guiding light."

Having had this experience, he was no longer hindered in his attempt to break through to the Core Formation Realm.

"use."

Lu Cheng made no hesitation and silently recited it in his heart.

"Boom!"

in the real world.

Shunzi and Lu Feng, who were standing around Lu Cheng, preparing to wipe his face with hot towels, suddenly felt an irresistible, gentle force push them three feet away.

The temperature in the entire backstage area seemed to rise instantly.

The four grandmasters of Huajin and Anjin, including Liu Wenhua and Yang Chengfu, looked at Lu Cheng sitting in the grand master's chair in shock.

"What... what's going on?" Mr. Yang Chengfu's eyes widened.

Lu Cheng had his eyes closed, and his tattered white, blood-stained clothes fluttered without any wind.

His originally pale face became rosy at a visible speed, and even radiated a warm luster like the finest mutton fat jade.

His breathing stopped completely.

It's not that I'm holding my breath, it's that I really don't need to breathe through my mouth and nose anymore.

At this moment, all 84,000 pores on his body seemed to transform into 84,000 tiny mouths, opening and closing to inhale and exhale the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.

"Blood like mercury, bones like white jade —"

Liu Wenhua's voice trembled; he seemed to be witnessing a myth being born before his eyes.

Within Lu Cheng's sea of ​​consciousness.

But then came a completely different, terrifying scene.

In the endless void.

A massive white tiger, as large as a mountain, roared to the sky, its body radiating an aura of killing intent.

On the back of the white tiger sat a statue of Zhong Kui, a red-robed, bearded man holding a demon-slaying sword.

The White Tiger and Zhong Kui, originally one righteous and one evil, one fierce and one valiant, have now strangely and perfectly merged together.

Zhong Kui commands the tiger!

Around this god and beast, countless blurry figures, yet exuding an awe-inspiring righteousness, faintly appeared in the void.

These are not the vengeful ghosts from the underworld seeking revenge.

These are guardian deities!

They are the ghosts of national mourning who, over thousands of years, shed their blood and sacrificed their lives for this land, and whose heroic spirits, even after death, remain and become part of this righteous spirit!

"Break through the void, and see the indestructible God—"

Lu Cheng's spiritual consciousness was greatly enhanced at this moment.

He seemed to have detached from his physical body and stood on a cloud, looking down at the shell sitting on the grand master's chair below.

He could clearly see the direction of every blood vessel in his body, the texture of every muscle, and even the impurities being purified deep in his bone marrow.

And deep within his dantian (energy center).

The immense internal energy and transforming energy that were originally surging like a river are now being compressed by that profound artistic conception, causing them to collapse and condense wildly towards the center point.

a drop.

Two drops.

It was a liquid a hundred times heavier than mercury, emitting a faint golden glow.

That was the prototype of "Dan Qi"!

Although the perfect, flawless "golden core" has not yet been formed, the subtle gathering of vital energy is already causing Lu Cheng's physical body to undergo a transformation that is incomprehensible to ordinary people.

Lu Cheng was immersed in this wondrous state.

All the external disturbances, the foreigners' guns and cannons, and the threats from the concessions all became fleeting clouds.

He felt that his soul was clearer than ever before.

The profound formulas on the fragments of the Tai Chi Chuan manual automatically intertwined and collided with the principles of Xingyi and Bajiquan in his mind.

Strength and gentleness.

Yin and Yang.

A perfect Tai Chi circle was drawn inside his body.

"call"

The time it takes for an incense stick to burn passes in the blink of an eye.

That profound and mysterious atmosphere receded like the tide.

Lu Cheng slowly opened his eyes.

There was no dazzling golden light, nor any menacing aura.

His eyes were like a clear mountain spring, so clean that there wasn't a single impurity.

As he sat there, he no longer gave the impression of a peerless demonic sword drawn from its sheath, but rather of a warm, ancient, yet incredibly heavy Taihu stone.

"Master?" Shunzi called out cautiously.

Lu Cheng stood up.

This time, he felt no weakness whatsoever.

On the contrary, I felt that my body was full of inexhaustible vitality.

He glanced at the room full of people who were dumbfounded, smiled slightly, and reached out to tear off the tattered, blood-stained clothes he was wearing.

He revealed his flawless, white-jade-like muscles, which contained explosive power.

"Shunzi, bring me a clean long gown."

Lu Cheng spoke calmly, as if he had just had a good night's sleep.

"The Tianjin opera has come to an end."

"We should go home."

"7

Half an hour later.

The back door of the Chinese Theatre opened silently.

The French Concession police and the Japanese military police were all held up by the more than 3,000 agitated people at Qianmen who refused to leave.

No one dared to rush into the theater at this time and risk bad luck.

Several unmarked black Ford sedans were parked quietly in the shadows of the back alley.

That was a vehicle personally arranged by Yuan Baye, the leader of the Tianjin Weiqing Gang, as a "secret agent".

Lu Cheng changed into a simple blue cloth robe and held the Xiangfei bamboo folding fan in his hand.

He looked at Mei Lanfang, who was standing in front of the car door, having come to see him off in person.

"Boss Mei."

Lu Cheng clasped his hands and bowed deeply.

"Thank you for publicly protecting Qingyun Troupe these past few days."

"I cannot express my gratitude enough. When we meet again in Beiping, I will certainly welcome you with open arms."

Mei Lanfang, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, looked at the young man in front of him who had turned Tianjin upside down in just a few days, yet escaped unscathed.

His eyes were filled with admiration and emotion.

"Boss Lu, this thank you should be said by me, and by all Chinese people around the world."

Mei Lanfang reached out and tightly grasped Lu Cheng's wrist.

"I'm afraid I'll never forget your play, 'Battle of Taiping,' for the rest of my life."

"The journey to Beiping is fraught with peril. That madman, Ono Ichiro, will definitely not let this go. You—be careful in everything you do."

"Don't worry, Mr. Mei."

Lu Cheng smiled slightly, his eyes revealing a calm acceptance of life and death.

"The cage that can hold me, Lu Cheng, in this world has not yet been built."

Lu Cheng turned around, nodded to Liu Wenhua and the other four grandmasters, and gestured for them to get in the car first.

Just as Lu Cheng was about to step into the last car.

Suddenly, the sound of rapid high heels clicking on the bluestone slabs came from the dark alley entrance.

"Mr. Lu, wait!"

A clear, yet slightly choked, female voice rang out.

Lu Cheng paused, then turned around.

Lin Yudie was wearing a moon-white cheongsam, without even a coat, shivering in the early spring chill.

She somehow managed to escape her family's bodyguards and ran to this back alley by herself.

She ran up to Lu Cheng, panting.

That face, which always carried a hint of arrogance and aloofness from studying abroad, was now streaked with tears.

She looked at Lu Cheng, the man she had once despised and misunderstood, but who had ultimately descended like a god and destroyed all her pride.

"Mr. Lu————"

Lin Yudie bit her pale lips, her hands clenched tightly together, her nails digging into her flesh.

"I...I'm here to apologize."

"Before, I was blind. I was too shallow."

"I know that someone like me, blinded by Western influences, is not worthy of you."

She tremblingly pulled out the Pisces jade pendant that Lu Cheng had originally returned from her bosom.

"This jade pendant—my grandfather said that the rules set by our elders cannot be disregarded."

"But I know I'm no longer entitled to have it."

With tears in her eyes, Lin Yudie presented the jade pendant to Lu Cheng with both hands.

"I only ask that you—don't hold a grudge against the Lin family."

"And—don't hold a grudge against me."

Lu Cheng looked at the wealthy young lady in front of him, who had lowered her proud head.

With a slight turn of his [Exquisite Heart], he saw the sincerity and regret in the girl's eyes, as well as a trace of emotion that even she herself hadn't noticed.

The word "love" in this world is the most hurtful and the most helpless.

Lu Cheng did not take the jade pendant.

He simply reached out and gently pushed Lin Yudie's hand holding the jade pendant back with his folding fan made of Xiangfei bamboo.

"Miss Lin."

Lu Cheng's voice was very soft.

"In this world, there's no such thing as being a good match or not."

"You are the eldest daughter of the Lin family, you have your own bright path. I am a martial arts performer, I walk a narrow bridge."

"Since Old Master Lin values ​​this jade pendant, you can keep it as a plaything."

"As for holding a grudge—"

Lu Cheng turned around and put one foot on the car's running board.

"I, Lu Cheng, am not that petty."

"It's windy in Tianjin. Miss Lin is dressed too lightly. You should go home early to avoid catching a cold."

After saying that, Lu Cheng didn't linger and bent down to sit in the carriage.

"Bang."

The car door closed, blocking the view.

With the roar of car engines, several black sedans drove out of the back alley like ghosts and disappeared into the vast night.

Lin Yudie stood there blankly.

The cold wind tousled her hair.

She looked down at the warm, smooth jade pendant in her hand, and tears streamed down her face once again.

she knows.

Some people, you missed out.

It's a lifetime.

That silhouette, as pure as white clouds and as domineering as a tiger, will become a final echo that she can never reach in her life.