nyslfriends Chapter 113 A cup of clear tea, half a scroll of tattered book
Chapter 113 A cup of clear tea, half a scroll of tattered book
Chapter 114 A cup of clear tea, half a scroll of tattered book
Just after the Awakening of Insects, the weather in Beiping (Beijing) was like a naughty child who had just woken up, with alternating periods of warmth and cold.
These past few days, the gates of the Lu residence have been tightly shut, keeping all the outside disturbances at bay.
Without the fighting and killing, life slowed down.
It's like a pot of old tea simmering slowly on a small stove; the longer it's brewed, the more flavorful it becomes.
In the early morning, before dawn, the air was damp and chilly.
In the training room in the backyard, there were no more deafening shouts and battle cries as usual.
"Da, da, da."
The sound of light, crisp footsteps could be heard.
Beside the stage, a row of young girls, barely out of school, were holding onto the railing, sweating profusely as they practiced "walking on stilts."
This "stilt walking" is a unique skill of female roles in Peking Opera, known in the industry as "Oriental Ballet".
It was a small foot shape carved from hardwood, only three inches long, wrapped in white cloth, and forcibly tied to the toes.
She supported herself entirely on her toes, with her heels dangling in the air, yet she still had to walk with the graceful gait of a willow swaying in the wind.
pain.
Excruciating pain.
When I first started practicing this skill, my feet swelled up like steamed buns, and every step I took felt like dancing on a knife's edge.
"Straighten your back, don't sag."
Feng Sanniang held a thin bamboo stick in her hand and lightly tapped Hongyu's back.
"Hongyu, you're destined to be a star. If you can't even endure this little bit of hardship, do you want to become a laughingstock on stage later?"
Hongyu, that girl, is only fourteen years old this year. At this moment, tears welled up in her eyes from the pain. She bit her lip and dared not cry out. She held her breath and kept her steps steady.
Lu Cheng sat on a rattan chair not far away.
He wore a padded, moon-white long gown and held a small purple clay teapot in his hands. He took a sip from the spout, looking as content as a retired old man.
But even though his eyes were half-closed, he took in every subtle movement of everyone on the field.
"Third Sister, take a rest."
Lu Cheng put down the teapot and spoke calmly.
"This stilt-walking technique trains resilience, not brute force. If you tense it too much, you can easily injure your muscles and bones."
Upon hearing Lu Cheng speak, Feng Sanniang immediately put away the bamboo stick and put on a smiling face: "Alright, we'll listen to Chengzi. Girls, take a break for a quarter of an hour and go have some hot tea to soothe your throats."
The group of girls felt as if they had been granted a pardon. They quickly took off their shoes and slumped onto the benches, rubbing their feet.
Lu Cheng stood up and walked to Hongyu.
The girl was secretly wiping away tears when she saw Lu Cheng coming over. She quickly stood up, but swayed because of the pain in her foot.
Lu Cheng reached out to help him up, took out a small porcelain bottle from his sleeve, and handed it over.
"This is safflower oil prescribed by Mr. Le from Tongrentang, which is specially used to treat bruises and swelling."
"I soaked my feet in hot water and massaged them before going to bed last night."
"Also, don't just rely on brute force."
Lu Cheng pointed to his lower back.
"The exercise of 'qiaogong' may seem like it's for training the legs, but it's actually for training the waist. When you gather your energy in your dantian (lower abdomen), and your waist becomes stronger, your feet feel lighter."
It's like—walking on clouds.
Hongyu took the porcelain bottle, her face flushed, and nodded vigorously: "Understood, Master!"
Lu Cheng smiled, turned around and walked back.
As I passed by the corner of the wall, I saw Tong Sanjin, that mountain of flesh, squatting on the ground with his butt sticking up high, looking like a big millstone.
The former Qing Dynasty's top poker player was currently lying in front of a cricket jar, holding a grass stick in his hand, carefully teasing the insects inside.
"Whoosh—whoosh!"
Tong Sanjin whistled, his fat body trembling slightly with each breath, as if he were sculpting a rare treasure.
Opposite him, Little Bean was also squatting, his eyes wide open, not daring to even breathe loudly.
"Master Tong, where did you find this treasure?"
Lu Cheng walked over, not minding that the ground was dirty, and squatted down to take a look.
Inside the purple clay pot lay a large, shiny cricket with a head as big as garlic, teeth like steel pincers, and two strong, powerful hind legs—clearly a skilled warrior.
"Hey, Mr. Lu, you have a good eye."
Tong Sanjin didn't even look up, his face full of smugness.
"This is genuine Ningjin Red Fang," it's the King of Insects! Yesterday I bought it from a down-on-his-luck Manchu man for five silver dollars under the overpass.
"Five silver dollars?"
Little Bean clicked his tongue in amazement. "Uncle Tong, you're really generous. Five silver dollars can buy two hundred catties of the best flour, enough for our crew to eat for several days."
These days, prices are all over the place.
Rice costs 14 cents a pound, and pork costs 20 cents a pound.
Five silver dollars—that's a month's worth of grain for an average family of three. To use that money to buy a worm? Only these old-timers from the Qing Dynasty would do that.
"You don't know anything."
Tong Sanjin rolled his eyes at Xiaodouzi and put away the straw.
"This is called playing with toys—no, this is called cultivating one's character."
"Look at this insect. When it's still, it's like a dead piece of wood, completely motionless. But once it exerts its strength, it's as powerful as thunder, capable of biting off someone's neck in one bite."
"It's the same principle as when we practice wrestling."
"If it remains silent, it will be a stunning attack; if it moves, it will be deadly!"
As Tong Sanjin spoke, his chubby hand slammed down on the edge of the jar.
"jump!"
Startled, the cricket kicked its hind legs and jumped more than a foot high, almost leaping out of the jar.
Tong Sanjin's seemingly clumsy, chubby hand moved with lightning speed, scooping the insect up gently in mid-air and then releasing the force, catching it steadily back to the bottom of the jar without even damaging its wings.
His mastery of "listening to the opponent's force" and "neutralizing their force" was truly unparalleled.
Lu Cheng's eyes lit up.
"Good technique."
"Master Tong, you've truly integrated your kung fu into your daily life. Everything can be a teacher, even this insect!"
O
Tong Sanjin chuckled, put the lid back on, took out a snuff bottle from his pocket, took a puff, and sneezed loudly.
"That's right, we have no other hobbies in this life, this is all we've accomplished."
"Mr. Lu, what are we having for lunch today? I saw that Old Liu in the kitchen bought some fresh river shrimp. Should we fry those big prawns?"
Lu Cheng shook his head helplessly.
This fat old man talks about food all the time.
"Fried, as much as you want."
Lu Cheng stood up and looked at the vibrant life in the courtyard.
The girls are massaging their feet, the boys are watching the crickets, and the older generation is thinking about food and drink.
This is the kind of life a human being should live.
It's much more interesting than the martial arts world filled with swords and shadows.
"Shunzi" (a type of Chinese character)
"Here!" Shunzi, who was helping to chop wood, quickly ran over.
"Prepare the car."
"Where to?"
"Go to Xinyuanzhai."
Lu Cheng straightened his clothes, his eyes gentle.
"Go buy some plum juice and candied fruit for you bunch of gluttons."
"This spring dryness needs to be moisturized."
"Alright—!!"
A cheer erupted in the courtyard, even louder than during the earlier practice.
The afternoon sun slanted through the carved window frames, casting dappled shadows on the blue brick floor of the study.
Lu Cheng didn't go out; he was sitting at his desk, holding a yellowed opera script in his hand, humming softly to himself.
"Suddenly, the sound of drums and horns resounded, awakening my soaring ambition to break through the heavenly gates—"
This is a line from the poem "Mu Guiying Takes Command".
Although he was a martial arts performer, he still captured the essence of the play.
"Knock knock knock".
There was a soft, polite knock on the door.
"Enter."
The door opened, and there stood Qinglian.
This little girl wasn't wearing her practice clothes today; she had changed into a moon-white, side-fastening jacket, and her hair was styled into two jet-black braids that hung down in front of her chest, making her look exceptionally pretty.
But her small face was full of struggle and anxiety. She twisted the hem of her clothes with both hands and lowered her head, not daring to look at Lu Cheng.
"Master, Master—"
"What's wrong?"
Lu Cheng put down the script and looked at his most talented but also most introverted female apprentice.
"Have you encountered a setback in your training?"
Qinglian bit her lip, her voice barely audible.
"The movements in Master Guan's 'Picking Up the Jade Bracelet,' especially the part about feeding the chickens—I just can't seem to get them right."
Master Guan said my eyes were too wooden, like I was staring at a block of wood, lacking that—that girlish longing, "Hmm—"
I was both surprised and delighted, with a touch of playfulness.
"
"I—I'm stupid."
As she spoke, the little girl's eyes reddened.
Picking up the jade bracelet.
This is a signature piece for female lead actors.
It tells the story of a young girl named Sun Yujiao who was feeding chickens at her door when she met a scholar named Fu Peng. The two exchanged glances and fell in love. In the end, the scholar deliberately left behind a jade bracelet as a token of their affection.
This play isn't being re-performed, it's being re-done.
That is, it is a performance without any physical props.
Feeding chickens, sewing, herding chickens, collecting bracelets —
She brought the non-existent "chicken" to life with her eyes and figure, and perfectly captured the girl's thoughts.
This is indeed too difficult for a child who is only fifteen years old and has grown up in hardship.
She doesn't know anything about being in love or being playful.
Her eyes held more of a premature maturity and a cautiousness.
Lu Cheng looked at her but did not blame her.
He stood up and walked to the open space in the middle of the study.
"Watch."
Lu Cheng smiled, his voice very soft.
"A play isn't something that can be acted out."
"It's something that comes from living it."
"You must believe."
"I believe there really is a flock of chickens in front of you, and I believe there really is a handful of rice in your hand."
Done.
Lu Cheng's demeanor has changed.
In that instant, he was no longer the martial arts master who was famous throughout Beiping, nor was he the burly man.
His shoulders hunched slightly, and his waist slumped.
That tall man, who was over 1.8 meters tall, actually gave people the visual illusion of being "petite".
This is a subtle adjustment to the "bone-shrinking technique," and also the ultimate application of traditional Chinese opera movements.
He didn't actually put on makeup or change clothes.
But his eyes.
Those eyes, usually as deep as a frozen pool, were now alive.
Her eyes sparkled, her gaze radiant.
He extended his delicate fingers and gently pinched a non-existent corner of his clothing, a shy yet joyful smile playing on his lips.
"Giggle giggle————"
It made a sound like it was calling a chicken.
Then, he made a scattering motion with rice.
With a slight flick of his wrist, his eyes followed the "scattered rice."
First he looked at the ground, then at the chickens, and then—it looked like a mischievous chick was pecking at his shoes.
He abruptly pulled his foot back and glared reproachfully at the air.
Then, she smiled, a smile that contained three parts annoyance, seven parts joy, and ten parts innocence.
that moment.
Qinglian was stunned.
She seemed to see a young girl of sixteen or seventeen standing in the warm spring sun, playing with a group of chicks.
That liveliness, that charm, even that shyness unique to young girls—
It actually happened to her ruthless and decisive master.
The contrast is so great that it feels unreal, yet incredibly convincing.
This is the star!
Whoever you play, you become that person.
Even when cross-dressing, they can still capture that essence perfectly.
"Do you understand now?"
Lu Cheng withdrew from his stance, and that girlish air instantly vanished, transforming him back into the composed man he always was.
"Your eyes should be lively; they should follow your heart."
When you look at chickens, you should only see the chickens; when you look at people, you should only see the people.
"The show is more important than anything else."
"As long as you stand on that small platform, you are not Qinglian, you are Sun Yujiao."
"Only by forgetting yourself can you live like a character in a play."
Qinglian nodded blankly, her mind filled with the fleeting glimpse of her master's eyes just now.
That look in his eyes was like a seed planted in her heart.
"Master, I—I think I understand a little bit."
"Once you understand, go practice."
Lu Cheng sat back down in his chair and picked up the script again.
"By the way, when you're practicing, don't keep thinking that you're acting."
"Just imagine—the kitchen made your favorite sweet and sour pork tonight. Looking at that dish, aren't you happy? Aren't you drooling with envy?"
"Just channel that craving into your acting, and that's it."
Qinglian was taken aback, then burst out laughing.
That smile, with its curved eyebrows and eyes, revealed a clever and quick-witted air.
"Oh, thank you, Master!"
The little girl skipped and hopped out, her steps as light as a swallow's.
Lu Cheng watched her retreating figure, a slight smile playing on his lips.
evening.
A rare guest arrived at the gate of the Lu residence.
A black sedan stopped at the entrance, and a middle-aged man wearing a long robe and mandarin jacket and gold-rimmed glasses got out.
This man was clearly a remnant of the Qing dynasty, exuding an air of antiquity yet refined taste.
He was carrying a birdcage, covered with a blue cloth, so it was impossible to tell what kind of bird it was.
"Excuse me, is Master Lu here?"
The middle-aged man politely asked the doorman, Old Zhang.
"Yes, yes."
Seeing this, Old Zhang knew they were no ordinary people and quickly went inside to report.
A short while later, Lu Cheng came out to greet them.
"That gentleman?"
Lu Cheng recognized him at a glance.
This is a descendant of Lord Natong, a legitimate member of the royal family, known as "Lord Na".
I've met him a few times before in teahouses. He's someone who understands opera, painting, and having fun.
I've only heard that their family has fallen on hard times in recent years and they're struggling financially, but they're still as extravagant as ever when they go out.
"Oh dear, Master Lu, I apologize for my abrupt visit. I apologize for my rudeness."
The man bowed respectfully, his face showing a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation.
"You're too kind, sir. Please come in."
The two entered the study.
The old man placed the birdcage on the table and rubbed his hands together somewhat awkwardly.
"Master Lu, to be honest, I've come today to ask you for a favor."
"Please speak."
"I've heard that you enjoy collecting old objects?"
The old man glanced at the "Zhong Kui" painting hanging in the study, a hint of envy flashing in his eyes.
"I have a booklet in my hand."
As he spoke, he pulled out a package wrapped tightly in oil paper from his pocket.
Unfold layer by layer.
Inside was a yellowed, thread-bound book.
The book cover had the words "[Shengping Department Opera Archives]" written on it.
"These are old files from the Imperial Palace's Peace and Order Bureau back then."
The old man lowered his voice, as if afraid of being overheard.
"What's inside are the secret manuals from when we performed for the Empress Dowager, the movement diagrams of those famous actors, and even some lost stunts."
"I figured this thing would just be a piece of waste paper infested with bugs if I kept it here."
"Once it's in your hands, it will be put to full use."
"only----"
The old man blushed and lowered his voice.
"We're really starving lately. Could we perhaps get some other grains?"
Lu Cheng looked at the booklet.
The Shengping Department was an institution in the Qing Palace specifically responsible for managing opera.
For opera performers, this thing is like the "Nine Yin Manual" from the martial arts world!
Priceless!
It contains not only the lyrics of plays, but also the experience and hard work passed down from generation to generation by the imperial opera troupes over the past few hundred years.
"That gentleman."
Lu Cheng didn't flip through the booklet, but looked directly at the old man.
Name your price.
"this----"
The old man hesitated for a moment, then extended two fingers and pulled one back.
"One hundred—no, fifty silver dollars, is that alright?"
He, a descendant of a noble prince, was now as humble as a beggar for fifty silver dollars.
This is the tragedy of our times.
This is the helplessness that happens every day in this city of Beiping.
Lu Cheng looked at him, feeling a pang of sadness in his heart.
"Shunzi" (a type of Chinese character)
Lu Cheng called out.
Shunzi pushed the door open and came in.
"Go to the accounting office and get two hundred silver dollars."
"Huh?" Shunzi was stunned. That was two hundred yuan, enough for an ordinary family to eat for several years.
"besides."
Lu Cheng pointed to the birdcage that the old man had brought.
"That bird of yours, sir, is well-cared for; I think it's quite a rare find."
"Go to the kitchen, get two pounds of the best beef, and a jar of aged Shaoxing wine, and give them to that gentleman."
"Just say it's—I'm treating that guy to drinks."
Upon hearing this, the old man shuddered violently, and tears almost welled up in his eyes.
Two hundred yuan!
This was a great honor for him, and it also saved his whole family's lives.
Moreover, Lu Cheng didn't say it was charity, but rather "inviting someone for drinks".
This is not just about money; it's about dignity.
"Master Lu————"
The old man stood up, intending to perform a grand salute, but Lu Cheng helped him up.
"Then, sir, this book is a national treasure."
Lu Cheng solemnly put away the booklet.
"You entrust it to me because you trust me."
"I, Lu Cheng, guarantee that I will bring these things back to life on the stage."
"We must never let the traditions of our ancestors be lost."
The old man wiped away his tears and nodded emphatically.
"I believe you!"
"If even you can't be trusted in this city of Beijing, then no one can be trusted."
They saw off the old man who was extremely grateful.
Lu Cheng sat in his study and opened the "Shengping Bureau Opera Archives".
On the yellowed pages, vermilion annotations and neat small characters record names long gone and once-glorious plays: "Dingjun Mountain," "Yangping Pass," and "Picking the Slippery Cart"—these hold the soul of Chinese opera.
"Inheritance————"
Lu Cheng stroked the pages of the book and sighed.
The night was cool and still, and the hustle and bustle of Qianmen Street had all sunk into dreams, leaving only the watchman's clapper sounding intermittently.
In the study of the Lu residence, the Western-style lamp cast a warm, yellowish light, making Lu Cheng's shadow long and projected onto the bookshelf behind him.
On the desk, the book "Shengping Prefecture Opera Archives" lay open.
The paper was yellowed, the edges were fuzzy, and it smelled of aged ink and camphor.
Lu Cheng read very slowly. He wasn't looking at the lyrics or the sheet music.
He was looking at — a painting.
In addition to the text, this booklet also contains many meticulous line drawings, which are the figures of famous actors recorded by court painters back then.
"Um?"
Lu Cheng's finger stopped on a yellowed sheet of Xuan paper.
This page depicts an extremely obscure martial arts drama that demands exceptional skill—"The Execution of Zidu".
The martial arts performer in the painting, Gongsun Zidu, is in a state of extreme terror and madness. His eyes are wide open, the corners of his eyes are torn, and his body is twisted at an unbelievable angle.
That is — "Zombie Stand".
But it's not an ordinary zombie.
The artist's brushwork was exquisite; with just a few strokes, he managed to capture the horrific scene of broken tendons and dislocated bones on the person's body.
Beside it, there is a line of small regular script annotations in cinnabar. Although the characters are small, they exude a sharp edge.
[The key to this scene lies in the word "surprise," the intention being to "explode." The performer must use intention to guide their breath, reversing the flow of energy, causing the blood to rush to the forehead, making the face flushed and the eyes like bells. At the moment of exertion, the pores open and close rapidly, like gunpowder in a chamber, exploding before it even fires.]
[Note: In the past, many who practiced this method suffered from qi deviation, qi and blood reversal leading to disability. Those without profound internal strength should be extremely cautious!]
"Reversing the flow of qi, pores opening and closing —"
Lu Cheng narrowed his eyes, a golden light flashing deep within his pupils.
With keen insight, one can see through the essence of things.
In his eyes, the still painting suddenly "came alive." The flow of qi and blood within the little figure in the painting appeared clearly before his eyes.
The flow of qi and blood is not smooth, but rather—an instantaneous burst and a counter-current.
Starting from the dantian, it instantly exploded to the limbs and bones, stretching the skin, flesh, and fascia to their limit, as if the whole person had grown a size larger.
This is an extremely domineering, even "overdrawn" way of exerting force.
It can unleash a force that exceeds the limits of the human body in an instant, but at the cost of an enormous physical burden.
"This isn't acting at all!"
Lu Cheng frowned slightly.
"This is clearly—the explosive force used by a Grandmaster of Internal Energy to fight to the death."
"Use your spirit to guide your energy, use your energy to power, concentrate all your strength into one point, and injure people from a distance."
"The things in this palace are indeed extraordinary."
The unique skills of these opera troupes, when traced back to their origins, often evolved from battlefield combat techniques.
It was only later, in order to look good and to please the powerful, that it gradually became just a pretty facade.
But in this secret file, Lu Cheng saw their most primitive and ferocious appearance.
"If I could integrate this move into my [White Tiger True Intent] —"
Lu Cheng's heart stirred.
He stood up and walked to the open space in the middle of the study.
Close your eyes and regulate your breathing.
The "Toad-Catching Force" within the body was no longer a steady, controlled flow, but began to become rapid and violent.
"inverse."
Lu Cheng let out a low shout in his heart.
He tried to control the immense, mercury-like internal energy within his body, guiding it along the path shown in the diagram.
"boom!"
A roar went through my mind, as if I'd been hit hard on the head with a club.
Excruciating pain!
His entire body felt like it was being burned by fire, and the tearing sensation almost made him scream.
But he gritted his teeth and endured it.
His face instantly turned bright red, his eyes became bloodshot, and the veins on his forehead bulged like earthworms.
He looked ferocious and terrifying, just like Gongsun Zidu who had been driven mad by fear.
Just as this force was about to get out of control.
"town!"
In his mind's eye, the red-robed Zhong Kui suddenly opened his eyes and brandished his sword.
A surge of righteous energy descended from the sky, firmly suppressing the restless blood and qi.
At the same time, the white tiger roared, forcibly redirecting the reversed force towards its right arm.
Lu Cheng felt his right arm swell up as if it were being inflated, with every hair standing on end, as if each hair had turned into a steel needle.
"Duh!"
Lu Cheng suddenly opened his eyes, his words like thunder.
His right hand didn't touch anything; instead, he slammed his palm out at the rosewood armchair three feet away.
"Buzz—!"
There was no earth-shattering explosion.
There was only one extremely muffled sound, as if the air had been compressed and then released in an instant.
A visible ripple appeared in the air in front of Lu Cheng's palm.
"Smack."
Three feet away.
The back of that hard, iron-like rosewood chair, which had remained intact for centuries, suddenly collapsed without any warning, even though nothing was in contact with it.
A clearly visible handprint was left behind!
Around the palm print, the wood grain broke inch by inch, but it did not completely shatter. Instead, it appeared as a powdery substance that had been shattered by the internal force.
To hit something from a distance.
Hundred-Step Divine Fist.
This is—[罡气]!
In other words, when a master of the Transformation Force reaches its peak, they can achieve a state where "not even a feather can be added, nor a fly can land," and their power can penetrate the body, injuring people invisibly.
Lu Cheng felt numbness and tingling in his right arm, as if it were useless, and his entire arm was trembling slightly.
Although it only traveled three feet, the cost was enormous.
But this is indeed a level of destructive power that transcends a whole new realm.
In the past, people used to hit each other with their fists; now, they hit each other with their anger.
"Whoosh—whoosh—"
Lu Cheng was panting heavily, leaning on the table, his face covered in cold sweat, but the light in his eyes was frighteningly bright.
"nice one."
"This booklet is a gold mine."
"Once I master this internal energy, even without weapons, a single slap from me can shatter a person's internal organs."
Lu Cheng didn't sleep well that night.
But he was in surprisingly good spirits.
The contents of the "Shengping Department Opera Archives" are like a jar of aged wine that has been buried for decades, with a strong and lingering aftertaste.
After unleashing that palm strike of "罡气" from afar, although his body was exhausted, the light in his heart seemed to have its wick lit, illuminating the path ahead.
The next morning.
The city of Beiping had not yet fully awakened. The whistling of pigeons under the Qianmen Gate tower swirled in the air, carrying a unique chill and leisurely feeling of early spring.
There was already some commotion in the backyard of the Lu residence.
Today is a special day.
It was the day of Qingyun Troupe's "comeback," and also the first time that Lu Cheng's two newly accepted female apprentices, Qinglian and Hongyu, officially "received their names" and took the stage.
"vomit"
A sound of dry heaving came from under the wall of the east courtyard.
Qinglian, that girl, was wearing a light white training uniform. She was squatting there, her face pale, clutching a handkerchief in her hand, her body trembling.
This is stage fright.
In the jargon, it's called "dizziness on stage".
Many actors who usually practice well suddenly find their legs like lead, their throats tighten, and they forget all the lines they know by heart as soon as they hear the rapid drumbeats and see the sea of people below.
"What's wrong?"
Hongyu was so anxious that she kept stamping her feet and patting her back.
"Senior sister, don't scare me. We're going to the theater soon. If you vomit now, how will you sing if your voice is hoarse?"
"I—I didn't want to either."
Qinglian's eyes were brimming with tears as she pitifully raised her head.
"Hongyu, I'm scared. I'm scared of messing up the performance and embarrassing my master."
"Everyone outside is watching our Qingyun Troupe now. Those amateur performers are so sarcastic. If I don't perform even one movement correctly, wouldn't I tarnish my master's reputation as the 'Light of Chinese Martial Arts'?"
This child has a heavy heart.
She knew she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, and she also knew that this good life was given to her by her master.
The more one wants to repay a debt of gratitude, the heavier the burden in one's heart becomes.
Just then.
A warm, large hand gently covered Qinglian's head.
"Silly girl."
Lu Cheng's voice came from above.
Qinglian froze, then looked up.
Today, Lu Cheng was dressed in a moon-white long robe. He wasn't carrying any swords or spears, but rather a folding fan made of Xiangfei bamboo. He was looking at her with a smile.
"Master, Master—" Qinglian tried to stand up quickly, but her legs were so weak that she almost knelt down.
Lu Cheng reached out to help her up, not minding that she had just vomited, and took out a small cloisonné snuff bottle from his pocket and handed it to her.
"Smell it."
Qinglian cautiously leaned over and took a sniff.
A refreshing menthol scent shot straight to my head, instantly suppressing the nausea and clearing my head considerably.
"Are you feeling better?"
"Great—much better."
Lu Cheng put away his snuff bottle, walked to the rattan chair under the eaves and sat down, gesturing for the two maids to come over.
"Qinglian, do you know why we entrusted you with opening the performance of 'Picking Up the Jade Bracelet'?"
Qinglian shook her head, twisting the hem of her clothes with both hands.
"Because you are very perceptive."
Lu Cheng opened the folding fan and gently shook it.
"Hongyu has a fiery temper, suitable for playing female warrior roles; she'll be able to lead a army someday. You, on the other hand, are calm and meticulous; the essence of playing a female warrior lies in the words 'charm' and 'charm.'"
"But this allure isn't the flirtatiousness of a prostitute; it's the delicate charm of a young woman."
"You're afraid because you think it's just acting, and you're worried that the people below will nitpick."
Lu Cheng pointed to the pomegranate tree in the yard that had just sprouted new buds.
"Don't treat that like a stage. Just think of it as our own backyard."
"The audience below are all crops from the fields, like cabbages and radishes."
"You are Sun Yujiao, feeding chickens, doing needlework, and lost in thought at your own doorstep."
"Who hasn't had a period of youthful infatuation?"
"Bring out that 'thinking' spirit, forget that you are Qinglian, and forget that I am Lu Cheng."
"Once you get into character, even a god can't find fault with you."
Lu Cheng's words didn't involve any grand principles or harsh language.
They were just chatting about everyday things.
But to Qinglian, it sounded as if a huge stone in her heart had been lightly lifted away.
Yes.
I have a master to back me up.
If the sky falls, my master will hold it up. I just need to feed my chickens and do my needlework. What am I afraid of?
"Go."
Lu Cheng waved.
"Let Feng San Niang do your makeup. Use the new outfit today."
"Remember, drink some hot tea before going on stage to calm your nerves."
"I'm watching you from the sidelines."
"Yes, Master!"
The two girls curtsied in unison, then turned and ran off, their steps much lighter this time, like two larks released from their cages.
Just past noon, outside Qianmen, at the Qingyun Grand Theater.
This area is now incredibly valuable, and since Lu Cheng took over the renovation, it's become quite impressive.
The vermilion pillars, the carved gate tower, and the two large red lanterns hanging high at the entrance with the words "Qingyun" written on them can be seen from afar.
Today, the entrance is bustling with activity, a truly lively scene.
The entrance was completely blocked by vendors selling melon seeds, frozen treats, and large bowls of tea.
"Excuse me, excuse me, oh dear, you've stepped on my heel."
"Don't push! All the tickets are sold out. Even if you squeeze in, you'll only be able to stand!"
Tickets on the black market had already been sold for three silver dollars each, and that was for extra seats in the back row.
There was no way around it; Lu Cheng's reputation was simply too great.
Although Master Lu is not on stage today, his two female disciples are making their debut, and everyone wants to share in the joy.
Besides, I heard that the Qingyun Troupe is now a guest of honor at Marshal Ma's mansion, and even the Green Dragon Crescent Blade is enshrined backstage. Who wouldn't want to come and see it?
On the second floor, in the central private room, the atmosphere was somewhat off.
The people sitting here were not ordinary enthusiasts, but several adjutants dressed in modern military uniforms with Browning pistols at their waists, surrounding a fat man.
The fat man was in his thirties, with a face full of fat, his hair was slicked back and shiny, he wore a gold locket around his neck, three large gold beads on his fingers, and he was holding a Western folding fan in his hand, which he was fanning himself with a whooshing sound.
This man is called Liu Dezhi, nicknamed "Fatty Liu".
But he was no ordinary merchant's son.
He is the nephew of Marshal Xing, the commander of the newly formed independent division who had just been transferred to the outskirts of Beijing!
This Commander Xing was sent by Nanjing to "infiltrate" the situation, with the aim of restraining the increasingly powerful Ma Linyuan.
Now that Commander Zhang is dead and the Fengtai Camp has been swallowed up by Ma Linyuan, Nanjing can no longer sit still and, not wanting one side to become too powerful, has sent Marshal Xing.
Fatty Liu came today not only to watch the show, but also with a "mission".
"Young Master, Lu Cheng is quite arrogant. Our Commander Xing's invitation has been sent out for two days, and he hasn't even responded?" The adjutant next to him lowered his voice, looking displeased.
"Hmph, what kind of martial arts master? I think he's just a dog raised by Marin Yuan."
Fatty Liu took a bite of sunflower seed shells, his eyes turning sinister.
"My uncle said that the waters of Beiping are muddy, so we need to stir them up first to see how deep they are."
"Since Lu Cheng is Ma Linyuan's mantle, we should show him what's what. If he dares to bare his teeth, it'll give us a reason to take action. If he tolerates it, he's a coward, and from now on, we'll be the ones calling the shots in Nancheng."
"In a moment, follow my lead."
Fatty Liu fiddled with the heavy gold watch in his hand, a wicked smile creeping across his face.
The drums and gongs have already started beating.
"Cangcai—Cang—Cai—"
—
Ah Bing sat in the musician's seat, not playing the erhu today, but a jinghu instead.
Although his eyesight had improved, he still wore sunglasses to avoid causing a stir.
As soon as the bow was drawn, a crisp, cheerful melody, imbued with the spirit of spring, flowed out.
This is "Xiao Kai Men," a tune specifically used for the female lead's entrance.
"Go on stage!"
Zhou Daikui gave a low shout from the side of the screen.
Qinglian took a deep breath, remembering her master's words from that morning.
"This is my backyard — that's a Chinese cabbage — that's a radish —"
She silently recited the mantra, her feet treading lightly, her figure swaying like a willow in the wind, as she gracefully turned out.
She wore a pink outfit with a green silk ribbon tied around her waist, and wore a velvet flower in her hair with colorful pom-poms hanging from both sides.
Upon its debut.
"good!!"
The first thing that happened was a cheer from the audience.
Putting everything else aside, just her appearance alone is incredibly charming.
Her little face was exquisitely painted, her eyebrows and eyes sparkling with spring, revealing a childlike innocence that hadn't fully blossomed, yet also possessing the charm of a character from a play.
Especially those eyes.
Bright.
It's really bright.
They were like two pools of spring water, shimmering in the sunlight.
She didn't look at the audience; her gaze was unfocused, fixed on the air above, as if there really were a flock of chicks pecking at rice there.
The scene of "feeding chickens" was entirely the result of hard work.
Qinglian carried a non-existent basket on her left arm and made a gesture of scattering rice with her right hand, her fingers forming a delicate orchid shape.
"Coo coo coo————"
The calls it made to the roosters were clear, melodious, and filled with joy.
As she moved, the audience below the stage seemed to really see a flock of chirping chicks circling around her feet.
She would playfully kick him, as if chasing away a rooster that was trying to steal food; then she would squat down affectionately, as if protecting a small chick.
His expression and his posture were so lifelike.
"Absolutely amazing."
An elderly opera enthusiast in the front row slapped his thigh and exclaimed, "That posture, that gaze—she's truly inherited his skills! This doesn't seem like her first time on stage; this is the skill of a seasoned veteran!"
"Yes, it makes you feel so comfortable, like you've eaten honey."
Cheers and applause erupted from the audience.
From the side, Lu Cheng stood with his arms crossed, a slight smile playing on his lips.
This girl has made it.
She didn't use any martial arts skills or internal energy.
What she used was "heart".
Acting with your heart is the highest level.
however.
Just halfway through the play, at the exciting moment when Sun Yujiao found the jade bracelet, feeling both joy and shyness.
"Clatter".
Something heavy suddenly flew out of the private room in the middle of the second floor.
It landed squarely in the center of the stage, and rolled twice on the ground.
It was a gold ring.
It was pure white, extremely heavy, and inlaid with a piece of jade.
Immediately afterwards, the fat man Liu on the second floor stood up, leaned on the railing, and shouted in his hoarse voice.
"Good, well sung."
"This girl has such a supple body, it's so alluring."
"Here's a reward for you, this gold coin!"
"However—"
Fatty Liu abruptly changed the subject, his voice laced with frivolity, "What's the point of just singing? In this play, didn't she find the bracelet and then get together with the scholar?"
"I've taken a liking to you too."
"After the show, don't rush off. Take this ring with you and come to my mansion. Pour me a glass of wine. If you serve me well, I guarantee you'll live a life of luxury for the rest of your days."
That shout completely ruined the atmosphere of the entire theater.
The rhythm on the stage is so smooth and flowing that it's most vulnerable to sudden interruptions.
This isn't showing support; this is disrupting the event, this is blatant harassment!
If it were an ordinary spoiled brat, he would have been smashed by the teapot by now.
However, when everyone turned around and saw the several adjutants next to Fatty Liu, who had guns tucked into their waistbands and were wearing new military uniforms, they all fell silent.
Those were soldiers, men under the newly arrived Commander Xing.
Who dares to mess with us?
Qinglian was immersed in the play when she was startled by this sudden change. Her body stiffened abruptly, and the spirit in her eyes vanished instantly, replaced by panic.
She was just a young girl; she had never seen anything like this before, with soldiers coming to cause trouble.
The play ended.
Fatty Liu became even more smug when he saw that no one dared to interfere.
"Someone, throw some more!"
His lackey grabbed a handful of silver dollars and was about to throw them down, as if he wanted to treat the stage like a brothel.
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