leonardwarren Chapter 85: A Grand Show of All-Out Fighting!
Chapter 85: A Grand Show of All-Out Fighting!
Chapter 86: A Grand Show of All-Out Fighting!
Outside Qianmen, the former "Fuchun Garden," which was occupied and then reclaimed by the Fengtian regime, has now been renamed.
At the main entrance, a brand-new black lacquered plaque with gold lettering hangs high—[Qingyun Grand Theater].
This was purchased by Lu Cheng at a high price, and he renovated it inside and out.
The stage is made of the finest century-old elm wood, which makes a "thump-thump" sound when stepped on, and is both elastic and sturdy.
These past few days, the area in front of the opera house has been bustling with activity, with a constant flow of cars and people.
For no other reason than that red paper sign, as tall as a person, posted at the main entrance.
[Qingyun Class Newcomer Special - Complete "Yandang Mountain"]
Starring: Shunzi, Lu Feng, Xiaodouzi, Qinglian, Hongyu —
[Producer: Lu Cheng]
The moment this sign was released, it caused a huge stir.
"Oh my god, what was Master Lu thinking? He didn't step up himself and let a bunch of kids shoulder the burden?"
In the teahouse, a few elderly people carrying caged birds gathered together, sipping their tea and smacking their lips.
"That's right, 'Yandang Mountain' is an ensemble piece, the most difficult to perform. It requires a solid foundation; without decades of experience, the performance will just look like children fighting—utter chaos!"
"I think Lu Cheng has gotten too cocky. Does he think that just because he's become a grandmaster, his disciples have become geniuses too?"
"Hey, you can't say that. You haven't seen those Lu family lads. Their eyes, their builds, they just exude a fierce aura."
"I passed by yesterday and saw that kid named Lu Feng moving stone weights. Goodness, he lifted a 200-pound stone weight with one hand, like he was lifting a chick."
"Really? That would be a monster!"
The opinions outside were mixed, but the tickets were selling like hotcakes.
Who wouldn't want to see what kind of disciples this team, which can train a master of "dodging bullets," can produce? Moreover, it is said that Master Lu will personally "oversee" the operation from the sidelines this time.
That alone makes it worth the price of admission!
The day before the performance.
The atmosphere backstage at Qingyun Grand Theater was as somber as a military tent.
There were no more of the usual laughter and playful banter of the opera troupe; only the sounds of sharpening knives and the clanging of metal as armor was being adjusted.
The air was filled with the smell of oil paint, pine resin, and a faint rusty smell.
Lu Cheng sat in a grand chair, and A Bing sat next to him, tuning the jinghu that he regarded as his life.
"Master Lu, I've changed the piece this time."
Although Ah Bing's eyes were still covered with gauze, the light shone through, and he was in a very good mood. His fingers gently plucked the strings, producing a "zhengzheng" sound.
"I'm not playing 'Deep Night' anymore; that piece is too sad and too somber."
"I added a 'rushing wind' percussion melody, replacing the copper gong with a large sieve gong, and also added two suonas."
"This performance of 'Yandang Mountain' will exude the menacing aura of 'Ambush from Ten Sides,' designed to send chills down the spines of the audience."
"it is good."
Lu Cheng nodded, his gaze falling on his disciples who were changing clothes.
These kids aren't wearing those paper-made costumes today.
Underneath, he was wearing a training suit specially made by Ruifuxiang, with multiple layers of cotton fabric and resembling "soft armor".
The outer "coat" was not the kind of light, embroidered cloth, but a hard coat lined with rattan and cowhide. Although it was heavy, it looked imposing and could protect you in a fight.
The weapon in his hand was a real, heavy weapon, even though it had been dulled.
"Listen up, all of you."
Lu Cheng stood up.
"Today, the audience here includes not only opera enthusiasts, but also spies from various martial arts schools, and even informants from warlords."
"They're here to see us make a fool of ourselves."
"I want to see if my apprentice, Lu Cheng, is just a show-off."
Lu Cheng walked up to Lu Feng.
Lu Feng is currently "tightening his head".
A black cloth strip was tied around his forehead, raising his eyebrows and eyes, making him appear more energetic and dignified.
It's very painful to have your head pulled so tight, and your head will feel swollen after a while, but this kid didn't utter a sound. Instead, he asked the head-pulling master to tighten it even more.
Lu Cheng straightened the turban on his head and tightened the flag on his back.
"Lu Feng".
"exist!"
"Your knife skills must be ruthless, but not reckless. Remember what I taught you about 'wrapping your head'—protect yourself. This is real combat on stage. If blood is drawn, don't panic, keep fighting."
"yes!"
"Shunzi" (a type of Chinese character)
"exist!"
"You're the commander, you need to keep the formation under control. Focus your energy in your dantian, don't let those guys' shouts distract you. Your spear must be steady, it must be as imposing as a mountain."
"Little Bean".
"exist!"
"That part where you climbed over the city wall, that's the highlight. Hold on tight, or you'll get a good spanking."
"Don't worry, Master."
Little Bean puffed out his chest, his face flushed red from the headband, but his eyes shone brightly. "My butt's made of iron!"
The crowd laughed, and the tense atmosphere eased slightly.
Just then, Old Zhang, the gatekeeper, ran in, his expression somewhat strange, even a little flustered.
"Master Lu, the troupe leader."
"A group of people have arrived outside."
"They said it was several head coaches from the 'Fu Lian Cheng' training program, along with their star pupils, who came to support us."
Fu Lian Cheng?
Upon hearing the name, Zhou Daikui's expression changed instantly.
"Fu Liancheng—they are the patriarchs of Peking Opera, the 'Whampoa Military Academy' of the opera world."
"Who among those who came out wasn't a renowned star? Mei Lanfang, Ma Lianliang—so many masters had connections there."
"They always consider themselves orthodox, emphasizing formal training and early childhood education, and they believe rules are paramount. What they despise most is someone like Chengzi, who is a self-taught amateur."
"Coming to show support this time" is like a weasel offering New Year's greetings to a chicken—it's all up to no good; it's here to find fault!
"Let them in."
Lu Cheng remained calm, even sitting back in his chair, taking a sip of tea, without even lifting his eyelids.
"Since we're in the same industry, we should treat you according to the rules."
"Reserve a good spot for them in a private room on the second floor."
"Let them see clearly."
"How exactly should this play be performed? Is this kung fu just for show?"
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
Amidst the deafening sound of gongs and drums, the curtain slowly rises.
The Qingyun Grand Theater was packed to capacity, with benches even added to the aisles.
In the central private room on the second floor sat several middle-aged men dressed in long gowns, their faces exuding arrogance. They were the instructors of Fu Liancheng, and also the most discerning "old men" in the Peking Opera world.
Sitting next to him were several young men, the stars that Fu Liancheng had been promoting in recent years. They were all slicked-back hair and had an arrogant look in their eyes. They held folding fans in their hands and waved them slowly, looking very superior.
"Master, look at that stage."
A young martial arts performer pointed at Shunzi, who had just appeared on stage, and sneered.
"His posture was stiff and rigid, lacking any sense of grace."
"This isn't opera; it's clearly just a laborer carrying heavy loads in a different outfit. He can't even lift his legs high enough, and his back isn't flexible enough."
The instructor took a sip of tea, snorted, and looked at him with disdain.
"This is the unorthodox approach."
"That Lu Cheng, relying on his brute strength, has ruined all the rules of the Peking Opera world. Singing is about hand gestures, eye movements, body language, and footwork; it's about 'roundness' and 'rhythm.' But he's made it look like a fight."
"Let's see what kind of tricks these brutes can pull off today."
"What if we mess it up—"
The coach sneered and slammed his teacup down.
"There'll be quite a show in tomorrow's newspapers. We need to teach these charlatans a lesson in what rules are!"
however.
He had barely finished speaking.
On stage, the situation suddenly changed.
"Thump! Thump! Thump!"
It wasn't the usual sound of a leather drum, but the deep, thunderous beat of a war drum, like thousands of horses rolling across the ground, shaking people's hearts and even making the water in their teacups jump.
Immediately afterwards, Abing's erhu emitted an extremely sharp and mournful cry.
"squeak--!!"
It was like lightning tearing through the night sky, or like the neighing of a dying warhorse on the battlefield.
That sound sent chills down the spines of the entire audience.
On the stage.
Shunzi plays Meng Haigong, and Lu Feng plays He Tianlong; the two armies are facing off.
Not a single word wasted.
Let's start fighting!
"kill!!!"
This shout wasn't the falsetto strained in traditional opera; it was a roar erupting from the diaphragm, a blood-stained howl.
The single-edged sword in Lu Feng's hand carried a chilling aura, and without any fancy trajectory, it slashed down towards Shunzi's face.
That speed, that power, it didn't look like a staged performance at all.
That was a real cut!
Shunzi didn't hesitate either. Seeing the blade coming down, he didn't retreat but advanced, and flicked his spear.
With a "hum," the white waxwood staff trembled, the spear exploded, and it forcefully blocked the blow.
"when!!!"
A loud clang of metal rang out, and sparks flew half a meter high in the dim light of the stage lights.
That was the sound of real weapons clashing—ear-piercing, realistic, and terrifying.
In the private room on the second floor, the young martial arts performer who had just been mocking Shunzi's sturdy physique dropped the melon seeds in his hand with a "thud" to the ground, his mouth agape.
The instructor's eyelids twitched suddenly, and he didn't even realize that he had spilled tea all over himself and burned his hands.
"This—this is a real weapon?!"
"They've gone mad, the Qingyun Class has gone mad."
"This could kill someone! How can you act like this? This is completely against the rules!"
But the show on stage has only just begun.
On the stage, swords gleamed and shadows flashed, a murderous aura filled the air.
The performance of "Yandang Mountain" has now completely broken away from the traditional Peking Opera style of "using dance instead of fighting" and stopping short of the main event.
It turned into a live-fire exercise.
Lu Feng, that little wolf cub, truly treated this as a battlefield and Shunzi as a mortal enemy.
He weaved through the crowd. Although his foundation in the "Ghostly Shadow Steps" was not yet fully mastered, the combination of his Xingyi Quan's integrated power allowed him to move through the chaotic battlefield as if it were empty.
"ha!"
With a "flip-like somersault," he dodged the two spears that were thrusting towards him with a swift and clumsy evasion of a fatal blow, but not the kind of graceful somersault.
He swept the blade across with a single, decisive strike.
Although the blade was not sharpened, the overwhelming force of that strike forced the stuntmen playing the supporting roles to retreat repeatedly, their faces covered in cold sweat.
This isn't acting with kids, is it?
This is like risking your life against a tiger.
If you're not careful, you could get hit by the back of that knife and break your bones.
Shunzi's side is even more stable.
He simplified the marksmanship taught by Lu Cheng.
Block, seize, tie.
Each thrust was as steady as Mount Tai, yet carried an unstoppable force.
The two players' offensive and defensive maneuvers on stage left the audience speechless, their hearts pounding in their throats.
Then came a frenzy of cheers.
"good!!"
"This is what real action scenes are! What were all those soft, weak ones I've seen before?"
"That was awesome, really awesome! This is the kind of show a real man would watch."
For men of all ages who are used to fancy but ineffective martial arts, this kind of scene, with its raw, visceral punches and sparks flying everywhere, is the most direct sensory stimulation and the most primal aesthetic of violence.
Adrenaline surge!
In the private room on the second floor, Fu Liancheng's coach's face grew increasingly grim, as if he had swallowed a fly.
He originally came to find fault, to say that their figures were not beautiful, and that they did not follow the rules.
But now————
He discovered that the spirit and energy of these "self-taught" individuals, the fierce courage that emanated from their very bones, was something his pampered apprentices, who were only good at formal training and knew nothing about makeup, could never learn in their entire lives.
That's wildness, that's vitality.
"How exactly did Lu Cheng train?"
The coach muttered to himself, a hint of fear creeping into his eyes.
If these kids are allowed to grow up, and this realistic style is accepted by the audience, then in the future—where will Fu Liancheng, the martial arts performer in Beiping, still have a job?
Just then.
The play reached its climax.
Siege the city!
Behind the stage, a "city wall" three zhang high was erected, made of solid wood square tables stacked one on top of another, five in total, teetering on the verge of collapse, which looked frightening.
"Siege!!"
At Shunzi's command, the war drums thundered.
Little Bean has made his appearance.
He was dressed in a tight-fitting night suit, with a command flag on his back, looking like a clever little monkey with lively eyes.
There were no protective measures in place.
There were no wires.
He took a few steps, leaped suddenly, and touched the first table with his toes.
"Whoosh!"
He felt as if he had lost all weight and shot up to a height of ten feet.
Immediately afterwards, he used the pillar in the air for leverage, and his body twisted in mid-air in an incredible way.
"Tumbling in the clouds".
She did a beautiful somersault and landed steadily on the second-tier table.
The table is unstable; if it wobbles even slightly, the hearts of the audience below will tremble.
But Little Bean's feet seemed to have suction cups, and it didn't move an inch.
With another leap, he reached the top!
This series of movements was fluid and swift, without the slightest hesitation.
The thousands of audience members below the stage were so silent for a moment that they forgot to breathe; it was deathly still.
Until Xiaodouzi stood at the highest point, standing on one leg, making a "gazing at the moon" pose, he pulled out the command flag from behind and waved it sharply.
"boom-!!!"
The applause erupted like thunder, almost lifting the roof off the theater.
"Amazing!"
"This is qinggong (lightness skill), this is real qinggong!"
Some people were so excited that they threw their gold rings and pocket watches up, shouting, "A reward! A big reward!"
Backstage/Side view.
Lu Cheng crossed his arms, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.
Looking at Xiaodouzi's agile movements, he knew that the kid had mastered the "Ghostly Shadow Steps".
Light-skinned and bold—that's talent.