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

Chapter 118 Flexible Joints Enable Arm Extensions: A "Monkey King" Growing from Bone Gaps

Chapter 119 Flexible Joints Enable Arm Extensions: A "Monkey King" Growing from Bone Gaps

Life is like that bowl of old tofu sold under the Qianmen Gate Tower; the braising sauce is thick, and you have to savor the flavor slowly.

With the grand autumn performance still some time away, the murderous atmosphere in the Lu residence had subsided, but the "refined" spirit of the Peking Opera world was growing stronger.

In the backyard, the old locust tree's leaves were so green they seemed to be dripping with oil.

It was just dawn, and the morning mist had not yet dissipated.

"Crack, crack."

A cracking sound came from the corner.

That's Lu Ling. She's the former "Gou Sheng".

The child was shirtless and bound tightly to a specially made wooden frame.

Old Suo held a pipe in his hand, squinting but not lighting it. His other hand, like an eagle's claw, was kneading Lu Ling's spine segment by segment.

Beside him, Tong Sanjin's fat body was trembling as he slapped a jar of medicinal wine onto Lu Ling's body.

"Bear with it, kid."

Tong Sanjin's large, fan-like hand slapped Lu Ling's thin shoulder with a "smack," the medicinal wine seeping into her pores, burning her heart.

"If you want to be prominent in public, you have to suffer in private."

"Your physique is naturally gifted," with shallower joint sockets and longer ligaments than most. This is a gift from God, but if you don't work out this "rusty" strength, you'll just be a piece of scrap iron.

Lu Ling bit the cork in her mouth, veins bulging on her forehead, and beads of sweat rolling down her face like soybeans.

But his eyes were incredibly sharp.

There was no pain, only an almost greedy excitement.

"Snap!"

Old Suo suddenly made a move and forcefully dislocated the object.

Lu Ling's entire right arm drooped down limply, like a boneless snake, its length suddenly increasing by half a foot.

That elbow could actually bend in the opposite direction.

"It's done."

Old Suo's eyes lit up, and he slammed his pipe on the sole of his shoe.

"Master Lu is right, this kid is truly a prodigy. It takes ordinary people three years to achieve minor mastery of bone shrinking. His joints are flexible; he's born with the ability to disassemble and reassemble."

"If this were performed on stage as the monkey stealing peaches, or Shi Qian crawling through the box, wouldn't the audience's eyes pop out?"

Just then, Lu Cheng walked over.

He wasn't wearing his training clothes today; instead, he wore a dark blue Hangzhou silk long gown, held a purple clay teapot in his hand, and walked with a leisurely gait.

"Master!"

Lu Ling wanted to bow, but her arm had been dislocated and she couldn't move it, so she could only grimace and shout.

"Don't move."

Lu Cheng walked up to him and put his hand on his limp arm.

[Sharp Eyes] A slight flash.

He saw that the meridians in the child's body, though thin and weak, were incredibly unobstructed, especially the major acupoints such as Jianjing and Quchi, where the flow of qi and blood was completely unimpeded.

"What a fine piece of jade."

Lu Cheng flicked his wrist, sending a gentle, subtle force into the wound.

"Thump."

With a crisp crack, Lu Ling's arm was back in place.

"Starting today, you don't need to be tied up for training anymore."

Lu Cheng took a sip of tea and said calmly.

"Shunzi, go and get that iron rod. Replace it with a lighter one, a ten-pound staff that reaches your eyebrows."

"Lu Ling, from now on, you'll practice bone shrinking with Master Suo in the mornings and monkey form with me in the afternoons."

"It's not the monkey on the stage, but the 'monkey' in the Twelve Forms of Xingyi."

"Agile, cunning, deadly, and deadly."

"If you hone this thieving spirit to perfection, you'll be the one and only living Monkey King in Beijing."

Lu Ling stretched her sore and numb arms, then knelt down with a thud, kowtowing repeatedly.

"Thank you for your guidance, Master!"

Lu Cheng waved his hand and turned to walk out.

"Alright, pack up."

"I'm not going to practice like crazy today."

"Since we're going to be sharing the stage with Boss Mei, we can't be careless with our attire."

"Let's go to the Helmet Company and get you bunch of brats some presentable belongings."

Outside Qianmen, along the West Riverbank.

This area is a gathering place for people who specialize in making opera costumes.

Shops made everything from python robes and thick-soled boots to helmets lined up one after another.

The air was filled with the smells of paste, leather, and the distinctive fishy odor of kingfisher feathers.

Lu Cheng took Shunzi with him, but they didn't take a car; they just strolled around.

Shunzi carried a bundle containing several newly exchanged silver dollars, his back ramrod straight, as if afraid of disgracing his master.

"Master, don't we have helmets in our own chest? They're old items left over from the Qing Dynasty. We can clean them and they're still usable." Shunzi muttered to himself. This kid had been used to a hard life, but he still cared about money.

"That's the old Chinese calendar."

Lu Cheng waved his folding fan, ignoring the commotion on the roadside, and walked straight inside.

"This is a grand performance," and all the famous actors in Beiping have to go. Who is Boss Mei? She is a beauty of unparalleled grace and meticulous in every detail.

"Although our Qingyun Troupe performs martial arts plays, which emphasize a rugged style, it can't be crude."

"Especially that Tyrannosaurus Rex helmet."

Lu Cheng narrowed his eyes.

"That was for Xiang Yu, the Hegemon-King of Chu. Although he was in dire straits, he was still a king, not a bandit."

"The one at home, the pom-poms have all collapsed, and the beads have turned dull. Wearing it makes you look like a defeated bandit, not a tyrant."

"If you're going to act, you have to act like that—someone with the strength to uproot mountains and the spirit to overwhelm the world!"

As they spoke, the two arrived at a small shop.

The plaque bears three large characters in Yan style calligraphy: 【聚元斋】.

The shop looks unremarkable, but the half-finished "Handsome Helmet" hanging at the entrance, even without being painted, exudes a strong sense of spirit.

This is the best headwear shop in Beiping, specializing in making headwear for the palace and the four famous female opera singers.

As soon as I entered, I heard an arrogant voice coming from inside.

"I say, Manager Liu, your skills are getting better and better!"

"Look at this kingfisher feather! It's all crooked! If my husband wore this out, wouldn't people laugh at him?"

"This is something we'll be showcasing at the fall grand performance. If something goes wrong, can you afford the consequences?"

Lu Cheng looked up.

In front of the counter stood a manager-like man dressed in a gray long gown, pointing at a phoenix crown on the counter with his pinky finger raised, spitting as he spoke.

Inside the counter, an elderly shopkeeper wearing reading glasses was bowing his head, smiling obsequiously, and wiping away sweat with a cloth in his hand.

"Manager Zhao, please calm down."

"Kingfisher feathers are living things, so when you stick them on, they shrink a bit, and it's inevitable that there will be slight gaps."

"fart!"

Manager Zhao slammed his hand on the table. "What do you mean 'inevitable'? That's because you're clumsy. Let me tell you, we don't want this crown anymore. We'll return the deposit and compensate us for lost wages."

"This—" the old shopkeeper said with a troubled expression, "It's almost done, and you're backing out now—"

"What, are you taking advantage of your big business?"

Manager Zhao glared at him, and his arrogant, domineering attitude kicked in.

"Do you know who our master is? He's a famous actor who just returned from Shanghai, and he's Boss Cheng's junior apprentice!"

"You've offended us. Do you even want to stay in the Peking Opera business anymore?"

Lu Cheng stood at the door, his brows furrowing slightly as he listened.

In the world of Peking Opera, although seniority is important, people hate those servile scoundrels who bully others by taking advantage of their power.

Especially for artisans, they earn their living through their skills, not by being used as punching bags.

"Shunzi" (a type of Chinese character)

Lu Cheng called out softly.

"exist."

"Go, bring me that phoenix crown so I can take a look."

"Why!"

Shunzi was a straightforward person. Ignoring the spittle of Manager Zhao, he took two steps forward, his towering figure standing in front of the counter, directly pushing the skinny Manager Zhao aside.

"We need to inspect the goods, please make way."

"Hey, who are you? Don't you know the rules?" Manager Zhao was jostled and stumbled, jumping up and down in anger.

Shunzi ignored him, carefully picked up the phoenix crown, and handed it to Lu Cheng.

Lu Cheng didn't take it, but gently nudged the base of the phoenix crown with his folding fan.

【Sharp Eyes】Activated.

In those gleaming eyes, every detail of the phoenix crown was clearly visible.

The art of kingfisher feather inlay is indeed superb, using the finest kingfisher feathers that are a brilliant blue.

But just as Manager Zhao said, there was indeed an extremely tiny gap where the phoenix held the pearl in its beak, about the thickness of a hair, which was barely noticeable unless you looked closely.

This is not a problem.

But to experts, this is a flaw.

"There is definitely something wrong with this crown."

Lu Cheng said calmly.

When Manager Zhao heard this, he was delighted, thinking that someone had come to lend a hand.

"Listen to this, listen to this! This gentleman is a discerning man. What did I tell you? It's a defective product!"

The old shopkeeper's face turned even paler, and his hands were trembling.

Lu Cheng ignored Manager Zhao and instead looked at the dejected old shopkeeper, speaking gently.

"Shopkeeper, may I borrow your glue and tweezers?"

"Huh?" The old shopkeeper was stunned.

Lu Cheng didn't explain further, but instead tucked the folding fan into his waistband and rolled up his sleeves.

He walked to the counter, picked up the tweezers that were as thin as cow hair, and dipped them in a little of the special fish maw glue.

"If the kingfisher feathers are applied and then exposed to a cold wind before they are completely dry, they will indeed shrink."

"It's not that the craftsmanship is trendy, it's just that the weather is not cooperating."

"but----"

Lu Cheng's hand was as steady as a rock.

He held the tweezers and gently touched, flicked, and pressed the barely perceptible gap.

Their movements were so fast that they were almost invisible.

But in that instant, the hidden energy within his body flowed out from his fingertips.

It's not a destructive force, but a gentle, sticky force.

"Buzz—"

The small amount of glue, driven by internal energy, instantly dissolved and seeped into the texture of the feathers.

The originally curled edges of the feathers miraculously unfolded under the soothing heat, fitting perfectly onto the base.

Flawless.

It's as if it was born there.

"alright."

Lu Cheng put down the tweezers and took the hot towel that Shunzi handed him to wipe his hands.

"Shopkeeper, could you please take another look?"

The old shopkeeper shakily put on his reading glasses and leaned closer to look.

After staring for a while, he suddenly looked up, his face full of shock and disbelief.

"Amazing—absolutely amazing!"

"Sir, you're an expert! Your 'healing' skill is even more superb than my fifty years of practice."

Manager Zhao, who was standing nearby, was also dumbfounded. He went over to take a look and, sure enough, the crack was gone, and there wasn't even a trace of it left.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but was silenced by Lu Cheng's indifferent glance.

That gaze, though calm, carried an air of authority.

That was the demeanor of someone who had killed countless masters and seen many great scenes.

"This crown is perfect."

Lu Cheng looked at Steward Zhao, his tone indifferent.

"The product is good, and the craftsmanship is excellent."

"Leave a way out for others, so that you can meet again in the future."

"Take your things and let's go."

Although Manager Zhao was arrogant, he was also someone who knew how to treat people differently based on their status.

He sensed the formidable aura emanating from Lu Cheng, and coupled with the fact that Lu Cheng had indeed displayed a remarkable skill that had silenced him.

"That's right, that's right."

Manager Zhao gave an awkward laugh, picked up the phoenix crown, and, not daring to mention the refund again, slunk away.

After everyone left, the old shopkeeper quickly came out from behind the counter and was about to bow to Lu Cheng.

"Sir, thank you for helping me out. May I ask your name?"

"No need for formalities, my surname is Lu, and I'm from the Qingyun Troupe."

Lu Cheng helped the old shopkeeper up.

"Lu, Qingyun Class?"

The old shopkeeper's eyes lit up. "Could it be—you are the Grandmaster Lu who killed the charioteer with a single spear thrust and cleaved the Japanese with a single sword strike?!"

"I wouldn't dare call myself a grandmaster; I'm just a martial arts performer."

Lu Cheng smiled and said, "Shopkeeper, I've come today to order a set of items from you."

"You said it, as long as it's something I, Liu, can do, I'll get it done for you even if it means staying up all night," the old shopkeeper said, patting his chest.

"I want a -- Overlord Helmet."

Lu Cheng pointed to the pattern hanging on the wall.

"But not the flashy kind."

"I want a black background with a golden dragon."

"The pom-poms should be red, like blood red."

"The most crucial thing is—"

Lu Cheng drew an arc in the air with his finger.

"This helmet needs to be heavy."

"A normal helmet weighs only three to five pounds, but I want one that weighs twenty pounds."

"Line the inside with lead and wrap the outside with the finest satin."

"what?"

The old shopkeeper and Shunzi were both stunned.

"Twenty pounds?!"

Shunzi clicked his tongue in disbelief. "Master, wouldn't wearing that on your head break your neck? How can you do somersaults or fight like that?"

The helmets worn on the stage are designed to be lightweight and stable.

Especially for martial arts performers, whose movements are large, if their helmets are too heavy, they can be thrown off balance with a flick of their heads, or even knock someone over.

Lu Cheng shook his head, his eyes deep.

"The Overlord, he is a man of unparalleled strength and power."

"If the top of your head feels light and airy, then that 'heavy' force won't be able to come out."

"What I need is this overwhelming weight of Mount Tai."

"Only by suppressing it can the spine stand straighter."

"and----"

Lu Cheng smiled slightly and stretched his neck.

"The kung fu I've mastered is all about this kind of strength that comes from bearing heavy loads."

"Wearing this, I am the one—the Hegemon-King of Western Chu, standing proudly on the banks of the Wujiang River, even when I have nowhere else to turn!"

The old shopkeeper was so excited that he slapped his thigh.

"Alright, since Master Lu has such boldness, then this old man will use my most secret skills."

"Don't worry, I'll use a century-old elm wood for the base of this helmet, lined with copper, and covered with brocade."

"I guarantee that when you wear it, it will be both secure and impressive."

Thank you for your trouble.

Lu Cheng took out two silver notes worth one hundred silver dollars and placed them on the counter.

"This is the deposit."

"I'll come to pick up the goods in ten days."

After leaving Juyuanzhai, Shunzi was still pondering the matter of the twenty-pound helmet.

"Master, you're being too ruthless."

"We usually just wear sandbags when we practice, but you're wearing a lump of iron on your head."

"Stop talking nonsense."

Lu Cheng tapped him with a folding fan.

"When you get back, tell Lu Feng and Xiao Douzi."

"From today onwards, everyone's leg wraps will be five pounds heavier."

-

"What?!" Shunzi's face turned green. "Master, people will die!"

"He won't die."

Lu Cheng walked ahead, his steps light and quick.

"To not appear intimidated in front of Boss Mei, and to put on a flawless performance under the watchful eyes of thousands of people."

"You have to be tough on yourself."

"It's a play, it's fake."

"But our skills are real."

"Only by making the fake seem real, and by cultivating the real into one's very soul."

"That's what you call a true star!"

By the time we returned from Liulichang, the sun was already setting.

Lu Cheng didn't rush back to the mansion, but instead led Shunzi into an inconspicuous alley.

There's a wonton stall at the entrance of the alley. It doesn't have a sign, just a tattered lantern with the words "wonton" written on it.

The stall owner was a hunchbacked old man who was fanning a steaming coal stove with a large palm-leaf fan. On the stove was a large iron pot, where milky white bone broth was bubbling away.

"Uncle Zhang, two bowls of wontons and two sesame seed cakes."

Lu Cheng found a small stool and sat down, placing his folding fan on the shiny, polished square table.

"Oh, Mr. Lu!"

Grandpa Zhang straightened up, and his wrinkled face beamed with a smile like a chrysanthemum.

"It's been a while since I've seen you. I heard you're a very busy person in Beijing these days. How come you still think about my food?"

"Your wontons are authentic."

Lu Cheng smiled and said, "That's the aroma that comes from the very bones; you can't find it anywhere else."

This stall was a place Lu Cheng frequented before he became successful.

Back then, I practiced martial arts intensely, and in the middle of the night I was so hungry that my stomach was practically sticking to my back. I only had a few copper coins left in my pocket, and only a bowl of wontons here could warm me up.

Grandpa Zhang saw that he was a poor kid practicing martial arts, so he would always give him two extra meatballs and not charge him.

Lu Cheng remembered this kindness.

A short while later, two steaming bowls of wontons were served.

The skin is as thin as paper, the meat filling is tender and pink, the soup is sprinkled with bright green cilantro and seaweed, along with a handful of golden dried shrimp, and then drizzled with bright red chili oil.

"call-"

Lu Cheng blew on the soup and took a sip.

Fresh, spicy, and hot.

A warm current flowed down my esophagus, expelling the chill of the late spring cold.

"Master, you're such a big star now, why do you still like this kind of food?"

With a sesame seed cake stuffed in his mouth, Shunzi slurped up some wontons and asked indistinctly.

In his opinion, isn't the delicious meat and fish at home better than this?

Lu Cheng picked up a wonton and looked at the flesh color showing through the thin skin.

"Shunzi, one must not forget one's roots."

"Eating too much meat and fish is greasy and a disease of affluence."

"But this bowl of wontons is all about the atmosphere."

"We opera singers portray all aspects of human life. If we are detached from this reality, then the opera will become detached and rootless."

While we were eating, a few porters dressed in shorts came up to the table next to us, threw their big bags on the ground, and shouted loudly that they wanted noodles.

"Have you heard? Commander Ma is planning to expand his army again."

"That's right. I heard that after Commander Zhang died, several thousand people in Fengtai came under his control. Now, Beijing is basically a one-man show by the Ma family army."

"Hmph, what do you mean by 'one-man rule'?"

Another dark-faced man spat, "I think that's a rabbit's tail—it won't grow long."

"Can Nanjing just watch him grow bigger? And the Japanese, although they suffered a loss this time, they are wolves. They took one bite but missed, so they will definitely pounce again."

"We ordinary people are just hoping that Master Lu can hold on for a few more days."

"As long as he's around, those Japanese devils won't dare to be too reckless."

Lu Cheng paused for a moment as he listened.

This is the will of the people.

Ordinary people don't understand any grand principles or political maneuvering.

All they know is that whoever stands up for them and protects them is the boss.

The four characters "The Light of Chinese Martial Arts" carry a heavy weight.

"Uncle Zhang."

After finishing the last bite, Lu Cheng pulled out a silver dollar from his sleeve. It was a Yuan Shikai silver dollar, and when he blew on it, it made a buzzing sound.

"Keep the change, please."

"For the rest, please add an egg to the order for those guys from earlier."

"Oh dear, Mr. Lu, this won't do—"

Grandpa Zhang was about to decline when Lu Cheng and Shunzi got up and left.

The laborers stared at the extra fried eggs on the table, then at Lu Cheng's departing figure, and stood there dumbfounded.