Republic of China: From Street Performer to War God in a Chaotic Era

"Junior Brother Zhao."

Han Dong closed his eyes and sneered.

"You spent three hundred silver dollars to get me to come out of retirement, just to wait for some low-class actor?"

"My gun, Han's weapon, is only for killing great demons. If that brat fails to lure out the Ghost-Faced Demon tonight and misses my appointed time..."

Han Dong suddenly opened his eyes.

In an instant, an incomparably sharp spear intent erupted from his body.

The surrounding snow was instantly pushed aside by this invisible "force," forming a vacuum zone.

"I'll use him as a sacrifice for the gun."

Zhao Linchuan's heart skipped a beat, and he nodded repeatedly in agreement, but a layer of cold sweat had already seeped out from his back.

The experts at the Yihe Realm are known for their eccentric temperaments and ruthless killing. He was genuinely afraid that if Senior Brother Han became displeased, he might just stab Lu Guan right through.

Just then, amidst the wind and snow, came the sound of crunching through the snow.

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound.

Two figures, one tall and one short, slowly emerged from the darkness.

Walking in front was a thin boy wearing a faded, tattered cotton-padded jacket with his hands tucked into his sleeves.

Behind him followed a burly giant, over two meters tall, wearing a large black leather trench coat and a large straw hat.

The giant's face and hands were wrapped tightly in white gauze, and he carried an old lacquered wooden opera box on his back. With each step he took, he left a deep pit in the snow.

It was Lu Guan and the black-haired demon disguised as a laborer, Ah Da!

"Brother Lu, you've finally arrived."

Zhao Linchuan breathed a sigh of relief and quickly went to greet him.

Lu Guan nodded slightly, his gaze bypassing Zhao Linchuan and landing on Han Dong, who was leaning on a large spear.

"Buzz".

Their eyes met in mid-air.

In Han Dong's eyes, there was icy coldness and aloofness, the gun intent cultivated through long-term immersion in the way of the gun and countless killings.

Lu Guan's eyes, however, were like an ancient well. His divine light was restrained, calm as still water.

But only Han Dong, who had truly entered the realm of "mutual understanding," could keenly perceive it.

Deep within those seemingly calm eyes lurks a terrifying, ancient ferocious tiger, one that advances but never retreats!

"Um?"

Han Dong's large hand gripping the gun barrel tightened suddenly, a hint of shock flashing in his eyes.

"This kid... he's actually reached the Inner Three Realms level?"

"A martial arts master under twenty years old? How the hell is that possible?!"

A storm raged in Han Dong's heart, and his previously arrogant demeanor subsided somewhat.

He turned his head and glared fiercely at Zhao Linchuan.

That look clearly said: You call this a fledgling actor?!

Zhao Linchuan was bewildered by the glare and could only cough twice before introducing the situation.

"Brother Lu, this is the senior brother Han Dong whom I mentioned to you."

"Senior Brother Han, this is Captain Lu Guan from the Antiquities Division of the Armed Forces Department. We'll be relying on him to lure the monster out of its cave tonight."

"I've heard so much about you," Lu Guan said casually.

"It's good that you're here."

Han Dong snorted coldly, hoisted the white wax spear onto his shoulder, and said, "This mass grave is too yin; staying here too long will harm the living. Now that everyone is here, let's go into the mountains."

……

The group of six, braving the white wind, trudged deeper and deeper into the ruined tombs in the west of the city.

The further you go in, the more terrifying the surrounding scenery becomes.

The abandoned imperial tombs of the former Qing Dynasty were partially collapsed by an earthquake during the warlord era. Later, they were visited by countless groups of scattered soldiers and tomb raiders.

Everywhere there were holes blown open by robbers, and coffin boards that had been carelessly discarded and weathered black.

The pale green will-o'-the-wisps flickered erratically in the snow.

The air was filled with a strong stench of corpses and earth; taking a breath made one feel a chill run down their spine.

"It's just ahead."

Zhao Linchuan stopped and pointed to a huge basin in front of him.

That basin was originally supposed to be the sacrificial plaza for the imperial mausoleum, but it has now collapsed into a giant pit tens of meters deep.

The bottom of the pit was shrouded in eerie energy, making it impossible to see inside with the naked eye. Only dozens of bottomless cave entrances could be vaguely seen, open like the mouths of monsters.

"That demon-faced monster is hiding beneath these caves, which are interconnected in all directions. If we rashly go down, we'll be ambushed in the narrow tomb passages, and our chances of survival will be slim." Zhao Linchuan's expression was grave.

"Now, it's up to Brother Lu."

Everyone turned their gaze to Lu Guan.

Han Dong gripped his spear tightly, watching coldly. He wanted to see just how extraordinary this kid's abilities were.

"Ah Da, unload the boxes."

Lu Guan didn't waste any words and simply flicked his finger.

The burly "mute laborer" Ah Da behind him immediately slammed the old camphor wood opera box, weighing several hundred kilograms, heavily onto the snow.

Even though he was wrapped in white gauze, Ah Da's chilling aura, which kept strangers at bay, still made the disciples of the Liuhe Martial Arts School around him shiver involuntarily.

"This laborer... has such a heavy aura of malevolence."

Han Dong frowned slightly and gave A Da a deep look, but he didn't think about the corpse demon. After all, only a madman from Xiangxi would do something like running around with a living corpse in broad daylight.

Lu Guan quickly opened the opera box.

Pull out bamboo poles, tear white cloth, and hang lanterns!

In just a few breaths, a simple shadow puppet stage was erected in the heart of the eerie vortex of the former Qing Dynasty tomb.

"call--"

A gust of wind swept by, making the white cloth flutter loudly.

Lu Guan took off his tattered cotton-padded coat, leaving only a short jacket, and strode into the back of the curtain.

He reached into his robes and pulled out the exquisitely crafted shadow puppet... [Huang Xian].

"Buzz!"

The moment the yellow fairy shadow puppet came into contact with the extreme yin energy in the abandoned tomb, it was like a sponge meeting water, frantically absorbing the surrounding yin energy.

On the surface of the shadow puppet, the patterns drawn with cinnabar and gold powder glowed red in the darkness.

The old man Huang Xian, wearing a wealthy man's hat and holding a mourning stick, seemed to come alive on the screen!

"Such a domineering and evil aura!"

Han Dong, who was standing guard on the outer perimeter, narrowed his eyes and held his spear horizontally in front of his chest, as if facing a formidable enemy.

"What kind of monster is this kid holding? This resentment is even more ferocious than a hundred-year-old corpse in a tomb."

"Everyone back off and block the main exits of the cave."

Lu Guan's voice came from behind the curtain.

"No matter what you hear or see later, guard your mind at all costs. If you get your soul taken, I won't be responsible for collecting your body."

Before he could finish speaking...

"Thump! Clang!"

Lu Guan stepped on the drum, and a sinister drumbeat cleaved through the century-old silence of this mass grave.

Followed by.

A soft, melodious opera tune drifted out from behind the curtain.

"Three hundred years of arduous cultivation in the deep mountains, worshipping the moon, swallowing essence and borrowing qi—"

"Once a prisoner is found alive while seeking a title, is he a ghost or a god?!"

"Huang Xian Asks for a Title!"

This is the Yin Mo Ling Pian, passed down from the Yin Yang Bureau of the Qing Dynasty. It is a genuine "Soul-Guiding Yin Play"!

As Lu Guan's singing voice rose higher.

On the screen, the shadow of the yellow fairy puppet was magnified several times by the lantern and projected onto the stone wall of the ruined tomb.

Those slender, drooping eyes, that pale white mourning stick, danced on the white cloth.

"Waaaaah..."

got windy.

Suddenly, gusts of wind swept through the mass grave.

The paper money and withered leaves on the ground were rolled into the air.

"Look, what's that?!"

A disciple of Liuhe, his teeth chattering, pointed to a tombstone in the distance.

Behind those tombstones, on the bare branches of trees, pairs of eerie green eyes appeared to glow.

Wandering ghosts!

Drawn by this pure Huangxian Yin Opera, wandering ghosts and spirits from miles around gathered toward the stage as if on a pilgrimage.

They dared not approach the blazing lantern, but could only linger around it, absorbing the yin energy emanating from the stage. At the same time, the yin energy on their bodies also nourished the shadow puppet of the "Yellow Immortal".