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

Chapter 198 The Case of Chen Shimei

In May, the Jiangnan region is in the midst of the plum rain season.

The rain in Nanjing was completely different from the late spring chill in Beijing.

It is fine and sticky.

Like an inextricable, tangled gray spider web, it envelops this ancient capital of six dynasties.

In today's world, prices are like a wild horse that has broken free of its reins.

A bag of ordinary flour on the market was being sold for two and a half dollars, and pork with a bit of fat in the market was going up to two cents a pound.

Ordinary poor people, rickshaw pullers on monthly contracts, would fight tooth and nail in the mud and water for half a steamed bun.

The lives of ordinary people are so bitter, it's like they're soaking in bitter melon water.

However, within the city of Jinling, there was a place that firmly kept the suffering of the world outside.

Xuanwu Lake.

A misty rain falls on the vast Xuanwu Lake.

Deep in the heart of the lake, a solitary, extremely luxurious Western-style villa stands alone.

This is the new residence of Song Peilun, a high-ranking official in Nanjing—the Song Mansion.

Ever since his only son, Song Ziqi, had his meridians destroyed by Lu Chengyi in Tianjin and died tragically on his sickbed, Song Peilun has been like a frightened bird.

He knew all too well that if that Grandmaster of the Half-Step Core Formation were to hide in the shadows, he would be like a snare hanging over his head.

To guard against Lu Cheng, he used his special privileges to move his mansion to this island in the middle of the lake, which is surrounded by water.

The island is heavily guarded, with a fully armed German-equipped reinforced battalion deployed, three barbed wire fences erected along the coast, and more than a dozen high-powered military searchlights installed.

At night, the snow-white searchlight beams are like sharp swords, sweeping back and forth across the surface of Xuanwu Lake.

Behind the windows of each villa, the dark barrels of heavy machine guns could be vaguely seen.

This is no mansion; it is clearly an impregnable war fortress.

As night fell, the rain did not lessen; instead, it drizzled even more heavily.

The willows along Xuanwu Lake trembled in the wind and rain.

On the shore of the lake, there is an ancient wooden building that has been abandoned for a long time.

This is a dilapidated waterside pavilion and stage built on the water.

In ancient times, people paid attention to feng shui and music when building gardens.

This waterside pavilion and stage are built over the water, and the bottom is hollow, so the water surface is like a huge natural echo wall.

When a performer sings a line on stage, the sound, carried by the ripples of water, can be clearly heard for miles.

At this moment, the dilapidated stage, which should have been quiet, was in complete chaos.

"Oh dear, sir, sir, you mustn't do that!"

"This is a sandalwood sanxian that has been passed down for three generations in our troupe. Please, have mercy on it."

An old troupe leader, dressed in a tattered long gown, was kneeling in the mud, clinging tightly to the leg of a guard in a gray raincoat, tears streaming down his face.

On stage, seven or eight poorly dressed actors from a rural folk troupe huddled in a corner, trembling with fear like quails.

Several fierce-looking guards were brandishing their rifle butts, mercilessly smashing the very things they depended on for survival.

"Bang."

The head guard kicked the old troupe leader to the ground, his fleshy face looking particularly ferocious in the rain.

He pointed the gun barrel at the group of actors.

"Are you all blind? Don't you even know what kind of place this is?"

"Commander Song has been suffering from neurasthenia these past few days, having nightmares every night. I have already issued a death order."

"A strict no-sounding order is in effect within a ten-mile radius of Xuanwu Lake. Even the frogs in the lake and the stray dogs on the shore have to shut up!"

The captain of the guard stepped forward, kicked a large cowhide drum, sending it rolling to the side of the stage pillar, and cursed viciously.

"You lowly actors, how dare you bang drums and gongs and sing your mournful songs here?"

"I've startled Commander Song. Believe me or not, I'll tie all of you bastards to stones right now and throw you into the lake to feed the turtles."

"Sir, spare my life! Sir, spare my life!"

"We've fled here, and we really don't understand the rules of Jinling City—"

The actors knelt on the ground and wept bitterly.

The captain of the guard sneered, drew his sidearm from his waist, and cocked it with a "click".

"Too late. If we don't teach you a lesson today, you'll think the inspection team is pushovers. Men, throw these eyesores into the lake to sober them up."

Several guards pounced on them like wolves and tigers.

"Tap, tap, tap—"

A series of footsteps, piercing through the continuous sound of the plum rain, came slowly and steadily from the end of the bluestone path.

The footsteps were so light, each step landing in the gaps between the falling raindrops, that everyone present felt their hearts skip a beat.

The captain of the guard whirled around, drew his gun, and roared, "Who goes there?!"

In the misty rain.

An old bamboo-ribbed, yellowed paper umbrella is slightly raised.

Under the umbrella was a young man wearing a long, light gray cloth robe.

He had a handsome face and a gentle, refined demeanor, just like the most ordinary, down-on-his-luck scholar in this Jiangnan water town.

What's chilling is that as he walked on the muddy and waterlogged flagstones, the uppers of his black cloth shoes with their thousand-layer soles remained as white as ever, without a single speck of mud or water on them.

The raindrops fell three inches from his shoulders, as if encountering a barrier, and slid down to the sides.

Lu Cheng.

He ignored the captain of the guard's gun and quietly walked to the waterside stage.

Looking at the mess on the ground and the old troupe leader who had been beaten bloody.

"That pretentious, pedantic scholar is asking for it."

Seeing his arrogance, the two guards roared and slammed their rifle butts into Lu Cheng's back.

Lu Cheng did not turn around.

Even the oil-paper umbrella that was being held up didn't sway at all.

[Exquisite Mind] illuminates the five aggregates. The circulation of qi and blood and the exertion of muscles of the two guards are as slow as snails crawling in his half-step Dan-embracing spiritual perception.

Just a fraction of a second before the gun butt touched his long shirt.

Lu Cheng casually flicked his wide left sleeve backward.

Tai Chi, Cloud Hands!

To onlookers, it appeared that Lu Cheng had not encountered the two guards at all.

However, a gentle [Dan Jin] energy, following the subtle airflow created by the waving of the sleeves, struck the center of gravity protecting the two people.

"Buzz—"

The two tall and strong guards were hit as if by a steam train, and didn't even have time to utter a sound.

His feet left the ground instantly, drawing two extremely exaggerated parabolic arcs in mid-air.

"Thump, thump."

Two muffled thuds.

The two men swam across the mudflats, which were more than ten meters wide, and were swept into Xuanwu Lake like two tattered sacks, splashing up two sprays of water before never resurfacing.

Dead silence.

The entire area around the waterside pavilion and stage fell into a deathly silence.

The only sound was the "pitter-patter" of raindrops hitting the oil-paper umbrella.

The captain of the guard's hand, gripping the gun, trembled violently, and his fleshy face was now filled with terror.

"Transformation... a Grandmaster of Transformation Force?"

He wasn't some naive, unsophisticated soldier.

Such techniques, where a mere gesture can cause flowers to fly and leaves to fall, or a flick of the sleeve to injure someone, cannot be explained by anything other than the legendary pinnacle of Chinese martial arts, except for the simple act of "get lost."

Lu Cheng looked at the captain of the guard and uttered only one word.

"Yes, yes. I was blind and didn't recognize your greatness. I'll get lost, I'll get lost!"

The captain of the guards didn't dare to care about the "silence order" anymore. He didn't even care about the lives of his men. He shoved his gun into his waistband and scrambled away into the depths of the rainy alley.

Lu Cheng withdrew his gaze.

He walked up to the trembling old troupe leader and slowly squatted down.

A long, slender, fair hand reached into the sleeve and pulled out a glittering golden object.

Clang.

A solid gold "big yellow croaker" was casually tossed by Lu Cheng onto the surface of the surviving cowhide drum.

The golden light stung the eyes of everyone in the makeshift troupe in the rainy night.

This sum of money could buy dozens of their shabby opera troupes.

"Old man."

Lu Cheng looked at the old troupe leader.

"I've booked the entire stage for tonight's performance."

"Get all your best gongs and drums out of the box."

He slowly turned around, his calm, still eyes piercing through the heavy rain to look at the brightly lit villa on the isolated island in the heart of Xuanwu Lake.

"I'm going to give that cowardly turtle in the middle of the lake, who dares not show its head, a good scare."

The old troupe leader rubbed his eyes, looked at the gold bar, and then at Lu Cheng's godlike figure.

He seemed to recognize something, but then swallowed it back down.

"Done."

"By the patriarch above, we lowly actors will also have our moment of glory today, following in the footsteps of this sage."

The old troupe leader gritted his teeth, grabbed the gold bar, and roared at the apprentices behind him.

"Get the equipment ready, set up that earth-shaking drum for me."

On the stage of the waterside pavilion.

The wind and rain were bleak and misty.

Lu Cheng put away his oil-paper umbrella and stood quietly in the center of the stage at the "Nine Dragon Mouth".

He used to perform operas, whether it was Zhao Yun in "Changbanpo" with a broken white wax spear at Guanghe Tower, Hua Yun in "Zhan Taiping" who defended the isolated city of Tianjin to the death, or Sima Mao in "Yanluo Meng" who judged the world.

The roles he was assigned were all martial arts roles or old men roles that emphasized physical performance and a sense of pathos.

But today, on the shore of Xuanwu Lake in Nanjing.

He no longer sings male roles.

He wanted to kill with his voice, to use his righteous spirit to penetrate the ten miles of water and shatter the courage of that traitor.

Therefore, he made an unprecedented choice and selected the most powerful, domineering, and awe-inspiring role in opera—the "Jing" role, commonly known as the "Painted Face."

The opera he was to perform was the most demanding and vocally demanding of the painted-face roles, a masterpiece of the copper hammer painted-face style.

The Case of Chen Shimei!

This play tells the story of Bao Zheng, the incorruptible and impartial prefect of Kaifeng during the Song Dynasty.

In order to seek justice for the commoner Qin Xianglian, she disregarded the powerful pressure from the Empress Dowager and the princess, and forcefully used a tiger's head to pry open the ungrateful and greedy imperial son-in-law Chen Shimei.

Song Peilun was a high-ranking official in the Nanjing cabinet, wielding considerable military power and influence.

But in Lu Cheng's eyes, Song Peilun is just like Chen Shimei, who disregards human life.

Today, I, Lu Cheng, stand on this waterside stage without any weapons.

With my half-step into the realm of the Embracing the Elixir, I would become the incorruptible Bao Longtu.

Taking advantage of this stormy weather, I will execute you, you traitor who has brought disaster to the country and its people.

"rise----"

Lu Cheng shook his hands, revealing the wide sleeves of his gray-blue robe, and struck a powerful and expansive pose unique to the Jingjiao (painted-face male role) character.

"Thump, choke, just now!"

The old troupe leader himself took to the stage, shirtless, and swung two thick wooden mallets, smashing them hard onto the earth-shaking drum.

The unique wooden resonating chamber of the waterside stage instantly amplified the drumbeats several times over.

Lu Cheng took a deep breath.

This breath was long and deep, like a dragon sucking water.

Deep within his dantian, the jade-colored "fake elixir" began to spin wildly.

He did not use the falsetto of "fishing for the toad" nor the mournful tone of an old man.

He used the unique explosive voice and the "copper hammer voice" of the Jing role!

This method of pronunciation requires pressing the breath firmly into the chest and back of the head, using a large lung capacity to create vibration and resonance.

For ordinary actors, this is an extremely painful job that strains their voices.

But for Lu Cheng, his inhuman body, which had undergone nine-tenths of marrow cleansing and whose "qi and blood were like lead and mercury," had now become a bronze bell!

Lu Cheng's eyes widened, golden light burst forth, and his inner energy surged from his mouth.

"Bao Longtu—sitting in meditation at Kaifeng Prefecture—"

Boom!

The burst of that singing sounded nothing like a human throat.

The sound, carrying the tangible energy of the [Half-Step Core Formation] stage, instantly transformed into a visible sonic boom under the amplification of the waterside stage.

"Splash—"

The surface of Xuanwu Lake in front of the stage was instantly thrown into chaos by the explosive sound.

The water surface, which had been shattered by raindrops, seemed to be cleaved open by a giant blade, creating a white wave over ten feet high. Like an angry dragon, it lapped against the lake surface and rushed towards the island in the middle of the lake, ten miles away, with the force of thunder.

The copper hammer-wielding man with a painted face, his voice as sharp as tearing silk, his aura as powerful as mountains and rivers.

"Honorably you, Prince Consort, listen carefully—"

The second sentence follows immediately.

The sound waves did not attenuate at all on the wide lake surface.

Instead, it becomes louder and louder with the help of the resonance of the water surface.

The Song Mansion on the island in the middle of the lake.

Song Peilun was lying in his bulletproof bedroom, his hands tightly covering his ears, but he still couldn't shake off the nightmare that had been haunting his mind for days.

Sudden.

"Crack!"

The bulletproof glass in the bedroom, strong enough to withstand rifle bullets, cracked without warning.

Followed by.

A burst of opera singing, like a thousand troops fighting or a great bell resounding, pierced through the heavy rain and the reinforced concrete walls, exploding directly in his ears.

"I remember on the Dragon Boat Festival, I committed some misdeeds—"

"You murdered your wife and children; you have no conscience whatsoever—"

This voice carried the chilling judgment of Zhong Kui's righteous spirit and the unparalleled killing intent of the White Tiger's true meaning.

"ah."

Song Peilun let out a scream and rolled off the bed.

He stared wide-eyed in horror out the window.

On the surface of Xuanwu Lake, the dozen or so military searchlights that had been firing wildly were shattered one after another with a series of "bangs" under the terrifying sonic shockwave.

The German-equipped guard battalion on the island was in complete chaos.

The soldiers covered their ears and rolled in the mud in agony.

The sound didn't just enter their ears; it penetrated their internal organs, causing their blood to surge and making them unable to hold their guns steady.

"It's Lu Cheng, it's him, he's here!"

Song Peilun lay on the ground, his face covered in snot and tears.

The psychological defenses were completely crushed into powder in the "sound of the copper hammer" of this play, "The Case of Chen Shimei".

On the waterside pavilion stage, the wind and rain made it dark and gloomy.

Lu Cheng, dressed in a blue robe, stood proudly like a god.

He took his last deep breath, his inner energy surging, pushing this final, magnificent performance of the bronze hammer to its ultimate climax.

"Deceiving the king, hiding from the emperor, and breaking off an engagement will bring disaster upon the man."

"Bring on this Chen Shimei—"

"Open—the guillotine!!!"

With the last two words, the thunderous [explosive sound] completely ripped apart the rainy night in Jinling City.

On the island in the middle of the lake, the flagpole bearing the emblem of the Song Mansion was impacted by this terrifying sound wave.

With a "crack," it broke in half.

It crashed into the lake.