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

Chapter 180 The General's Head Shaved at Night

In April, the willow catkins in Beijing drifted down like a snowfall, fluttering and falling on the bluestone slabs of Qianmen Street.

The chill of late spring has completely passed, and the sun shines warmly on people's backs, exuding a lazy, bone-melting feeling.

These days, prices change every day.

The price tag for "foreign noodles" at the grain store outside Qianmen was already firmly hanging on the price tag of two and a half silver dollars a bag, and the shouts of the cut cake stall were tinged with a sense of dejection.

But in the backyard of the Lu residence, a completely different scene unfolded – a bustling and lively atmosphere.

"Bang, bang, bang!"

Heavy breathing echoed across the spacious training ground.

Zhang Sanjia took off his tattered short jacket and put on a blue cloth jacket that the Lu family had newly sewn for him.

The last martial arts champion of the Qing Dynasty, after quitting opium, still looked as thin as a rake.

But his spine was like an old white waxwood pole stuck in the ground, straight and exuding a fierce aura that seemed to pierce the sky.

"Didn't you eat? This is called a cannonball massage? This is called an old woman's back massage!"

Zhang Sanjia held a thin rattan cane in his hand and lashed it across Lu Feng's back without any hesitation, making a crisp sound.

"The Three Emperors Cannon Fist emphasizes strength, power, precision, and penetration."

"Sink your Qi to your Dantian, let your power rise from the ground. Don't use the brute force of your arms; twist your waist and hips as one and smash it out!"

Lu Feng winced in pain but didn't utter a sound. He gritted his teeth, took a step through the mud, and suddenly exerted force with his waist and hips.

With a loud "boom," he slammed his fist heavily onto the sandbag covered in iron filings in front of him.

The two-hundred-pound sandbag was smashed high into the air, raising a cloud of dust.

"Hmm, at least you look somewhat human now."

A hint of admiration flashed in Zhang Sanjia's cloudy old eyes.

Then, with his hands behind his back, he strolled over to correct Xiaodouzi and Shunzi's stance training.

Ever since this old top scholar moved into the east wing, the hard times for the half-grown boys of the Qingyun Troupe have begun.

He doesn't teach any fancy theories; his boxing techniques are all the killing skills he honed through years of fighting and bloodshed in the ring.

Ruthless and cunning, yet they are the best at honing basic skills.

And the preparation for this martial arts school has officially been put on the agenda.

Lu Cheng's plan to open a martial arts school without charging tuition or setting any entry requirements is unprecedented in Beiping.

The venue, naturally, cannot be small.

When this matter came to the attention of General Zhang, a powerful military commander in Beiping who had a long-standing relationship with Lu Cheng, he heard about it.

This general was a rough man who valued chivalry and loyalty. Without saying a word, he wrote a large stroke of his pen and granted Lu Cheng a large, abandoned training ground of the Manchu Plain Yellow Banner near the South City Overpass free of charge.

The place covers several dozen acres and has not only a wide racecourse but also two rows of ready-made large tile-roofed houses. With a little renovation, it could easily accommodate thousands of people to practice martial arts.

This should have been a perfectly natural and wonderful thing, but unfortunately, some people couldn't stand it.

Marshal Xing had just been transferred to Beiping not long ago.

This Marshal Xing and Song Peilun from Nanjing were wearing the same pair of pants.

Song Ziqi was crippled by Lu Cheng in Tianjin, and Song Peilun regarded Lu Cheng as a thorn in his side.

Commander Xing, a newcomer to Nanjing, was worried about not having a chance to show his loyalty to the city, so he naturally wanted to trip him up at this critical juncture.

Using the pretext that "this is a strategically important defense area, and private use by civilians is strictly prohibited," he forcibly left the official document approving the land on the governor's office desk.

They even sent a platoon of soldiers to put up barbed wire at the entrance to the drill ground near the overpass.

"Master, that bastard General Xing is going too far!"

Shunzi was so angry he was grinding his teeth.

"He dared to confiscate Commander Zhang's approval documents; isn't he clearly trying to make trouble for us?"

Under the eaves, Lu Cheng was lying on the bamboo rocking chair.

Today he was wearing a moon-white shirt and was playing with two jade-like lion's head walnuts in his hands.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the old locust tree, illuminating his handsome and gentle face. His refined mind revealed his inner world, making him appear like a bottomless pool of autumn water.

"What's the panic?"

Lu Cheng didn't even lift his eyelids.

"If he likes to shuffle his balls, let him. Let's practice our boxing."

The apprentices looked at each other, puzzled as to what their master was up to.

But no one expected that this matter would come to a complete end in an extremely bizarre way on the morning of the third day.

Three days later, in the early morning, inside the governor's mansion.

General Xing woke up with a start from the wide canopy bed covered with a tiger skin, his silk pajamas soaked with cold sweat.

He had a dream in which he was being held down in an ice hole, and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't breathe.

"What the hell is this weather? Why am I feeling a chill down my neck?"

Xing Dashuai sat up cursing and subconsciously reached out to touch his slicked-back hair.

This touch.

Commander Xing's hand froze on his head.

No hair.

It was smooth and slippery, just like a freshly peeled boiled egg.

"ah!!!"

A piercing scream shattered the morning light at the Governor's Mansion.

When the adjutant and several guards carrying submachine guns burst through the door, they were all stunned by what they saw.

The mighty Marshal Xing, who commanded a large army, was now scrambling and crawling in the corner of the bed, clutching his shiny bald head tightly with both hands. His crotch was soaked and emitted a foul odor.

What made them even more uneasy were the things on the bedside table.

There, neatly placed, was a Zhong Kui mask used in traditional Chinese opera to sing the "Jumping Official" song.

The mask had a blue face and fangs, exuding a chilling aura that could suppress all evil.

Beside the mask, there was a lock of black and white hair.

It was actually Marshal Xing's own hair!

What was pressing down on her hair wasn't a paperweight, but a seemingly ordinary ash wood shaving.

"A ghost—there's a ghost!"

Commander Xing pointed at the mask, his whole body trembling like a leaf.

The governor's mansion was guarded every three steps and sentries every five steps. There were heavy machine guns outside, and even a fly that flew in would be questioned.

But that person, the one who shaved off his entire head of hair, managed to sneak into his bedroom without him noticing and shave his head completely bald.

If that razor were shifted downwards by just half an inch—

What they cut wasn't his hair, but his throat.

"Lu Cheng—that living Yama named Lu Cheng."

Although Commander Xing was arrogant, he was not stupid.

That Zhong Kui mask, that ash wood shaving—who in all of Beiping doesn't know that's the signature of Master Lu of the Qingyun Troupe?!

"General, should we send troops to surround the Lu residence?" the adjutant asked through gritted teeth.

"Screw you!"

Commander Xing slapped his adjutant across the face, his voice trembling.

"He can shave my head silently, and he can take my life amidst a vast army, and rescind the order!"

"Immediately remove the barbed wire from the Tianqiao drill ground, stamp the official document, and personally deliver it to Marshal Zhang's residence!"

Commander Xing slumped to the ground, touching his bald head, his eyes filled with fear and a hint of malice.

"I'm not going to mess with him."

"Didn't the martial arts academy in Jinling send several top-tier imperial guards north for an inspection? Once those Jinling masters arrive, I'll see how Lu Cheng dies!"

A potential crisis was thus averted through Lu Cheng's subtle display of arrogance.

The martial arts school site in Tianqiao has been successfully acquired, and bricklayers and carpenters have already begun construction. The opening date is set for half a month from now.

But as the saying goes, even a hero can be brought down by a penny.

In the accounting room of the Lu residence's main hall, Zhou Daikui, wearing reading glasses, fiddled with the abacus beads in his hand, the "clattering" sound revealing his undisguised anxiety.

"Chengzi—"

Zhou Daikui, carrying a thick ledger, walked up to Lu Cheng, who was sitting in the courtyard drinking tea with Zhang Sanshen, with a bitter face.

"We're out of money in our accounts."

"Out of money?"

Zhang Sanjia paused, his hand holding the teacup still.

"you do not say!"

Zhou Daikui sighed.

"The huge sum of money you brought back from Tianjin was used to buy grain and coal during the late spring cold snap and distributed to the poor people on Qianmen Street."

"Once this martial arts school started construction, we had to buy timber and bricks, plus feed, drink, and take care of the dozens of teenagers—"

Zhou Daikui pointed to his apprentices in the courtyard, who were practicing enthusiastically and eating like oxen.

"These young men are constantly working up their blood and qi, and they eat half a pig every day. Our money is about to run out."

""

Without money, the martial arts school cannot continue operating, and the grand ambition of spreading the teachings throughout the world becomes empty talk.

Zhang Sanjia remained silent for a moment, then stood up.

"Although this old man's face is not well-known in the Eight Great Hutongs, he still has some influence among a few old martial arts schools in the south of the city. I'll go and beg for some favors—"

"Please wait, senior."

Lu Cheng gently put down his teacup.

"I, Lu Cheng, am here to preach; how can I let my elders beg for alms? There's no need to worry about money."

Just then.

"Beep beep—!"

Several clear car horn sounds rang out outside the gate of the Lu residence.

Immediately afterward, Old Zhang, the gatekeeper, practically tumbled in, his face flushed.

"Master, troupe leader, there are so many carriages outside! They've brought money!"

Lu Cheng stood up, straightened his long robe, and led everyone to the front yard.

The gate was open.

On Qianmen Street, four gleaming black Ford cars were parked there at some unknown time.

The door of the first car opened, and a middle-aged man wearing a gray cloth long gown and a top hat stepped out. He was the advisor of Master Yuan, the leader of the Qing Gang in Tianjin.

"Master Lu".

The clerk quickly stepped forward and respectfully handed over a mahogany box.

"The Qingbang and Hongmen of Tianjin are grateful for Master Lu's kindness."

"I heard you're setting up a martial arts school in Beiping. Master Ba has specially sent me with 20,000 silver dollars as a token of his appreciation and wishing the school a grand opening!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than several muscular men dressed in shorts and t-shirts stepped out of the second car.

"The Huo family of Tianjin, acting on the orders of their young master Huo Zhenxiao, has delivered ten boxes of top-quality medicinal herbs from Southeast Asia, along with a 30,000-dollar bank draft from the Bank of Communications. Young Master Huo has said that if the martial arts school lacks funds or medicine, the Huo family will cover it!"

The third car was driven by a refined-looking manager.

"Mr. Mei Lanfang respectfully presents two sandalwood drums and has sent 5,000 yuan in legal tender to congratulate Mr. Lu on his great success."

One huge sum of money after another poured into the already struggling Lu family home, like snowflakes falling on its walls.

This isn't money.

This is the unparalleled prestige and human connections that Lu Cheng earned in Tianjin with his own blood and sweat!

Looking at the boxes of gleaming silver dollars and bank drafts, Zhou Daikui was so excited that he could barely hold the abacus, and his eyes reddened.

"Good heavens! Our Qingyun Troupe has struck gold!"

But in front of the last car, the atmosphere became somewhat awkward.

The car door slowly opened.

A pair of feet wearing white square-toed leather shoes stepped down first, making a very soft, crisp sound as they landed on the bluestone slab.

Immediately afterwards, a beautiful figure dressed in a simple, moon-white cheongsam appeared before everyone.

Gone is the arrogance and haughtiness of a "overseas-educated young lady" from the past, and the pearl necklace and Parisian perfume are gone.

She wore her hair in the simplest bun and tightly clutched a handbag in her hand.

Lin Yudie.

She stood outside the threshold of the Lu residence, looked up at Lu Cheng standing on the steps.

Those once arrogant eyes, which boasted of being able to see through the tides of the times and admired Western firearms, instantly turned red and became misty with tears.

She bit her lip and turned to look at Lu Laogen and Wang Shi, who were standing to the side, their faces full of astonishment.

Then, he clasped his hands together in front of him and bowed deeply to Lu Laogen and Wang Shi.

A nearly 90-degree bow.

"Lin family girl, what are you doing—"

Lu Laogen sighed, holding his pipe in his hand, unsure of what to say.

"Uncle Lu, Aunt Lu."

Lin Yudie straightened up, and tears finally slid down her thin cheeks.

"Yu Die has come today to apologize to the two elders and the Lu family."

"Back then, Yu Die was young and was blinded by a few words of foreign language and Western scenery."

She choked up for a moment, then gave a self-deprecating bitter laugh.

"I mistook those traitorous wolves for gentlemen, while regarding Mr. Lu, a true hero, as the dregs of the old era—"

"Now that our family is in dire straits, we know who the true gold is in this turbid world. Yu Die is blind; she has eyes but cannot recognize Mount Tai."

She opened her handbag, took out a thick kraft paper envelope, and handed it to Lu Laogen with both hands.

"This is the land deed for 100 mu of paddy fields outside Beiping City owned by the Lin family, along with a bank draft for 10,000 silver dollars."

"My grandfather said that Mr. Lu is going to open a martial arts school in Tianqiao to spread his teachings. This is a meritorious deed that will last for generations. The Lin family is a money-grubbing merchant family. They can't help with anything else, but they can at least contribute a few bricks to the martial arts school."

She lowered her head and said.

"Yu Die doesn't ask for Mr. Lu's forgiveness, she only asks—she only asks that the two elders accept this meager token of their appreciation, so that Yu Die can feel less guilty."

Lu Laogen and Wang Shi exchanged a glance. The old couple were kind-hearted people and couldn't bear to see the young girl like this, so they could only sigh and accept the envelope.

Corridor.

Lu Cheng watched this scene quietly.

The path of martial arts is long and arduous, and his heart has long since moved beyond the trivialities of romantic love.

How can a sparrow know the ambition of a swan?

Now that the cause and effect have been severed, there is no longer any entanglement.

"Father, please accept it."

Lu Cheng turned around, his voice like a gentle breeze passing through the courtyard.

"The karma of the past is dead. The good deeds sown today will last a long time to come."

Having said that, he didn't even bother with a word of pleasantries and strode towards the training ground in the backyard.