novellaaa Chapter 127 The Great Relocation of the Pear Garden: The "Grandmaster" in the Opera Box
Chapter 127 The Great Relocation of the Pear Garden: The "Grandmaster" in the Opera Box
Chapter 128 The Great Relocation of the Pear Garden: The "Grandmaster" in the Opera Box
The morning in Beiping City had a lazy, languid feel to it, but outside the Lu residence, chaos reigned.
This isn't a long trip; it's practically moving house.
"Be gentle! Oh my god, that box contains a magnificent robe! If even one of the gold threads breaks, you couldn't afford to pay for it even if you sold yourself!"
Old Guan's voice was hoarse from shouting. He held a feather duster in his hand and wandered around the large horse-drawn carriages like a foreman.
When a theatrical troupe goes out, it's a grand spectacle.
In the trade, it's called a "moving box".
The Qingyun Troupe is now a major troupe with the prestigious title of "Top Performer in Peking Opera," so its entourage is naturally not going to be shabby.
The camphor wood chests used to pack the luggage alone filled five large carts.
Large trunk, second trunk, third trunk, helmet trunk, flag trunk — categorized separately, none can be mixed up.
The most elaborate item is the "divine box" sealed with a red paper sticker.
Inside, there is nothing but the memorial tablet of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (Li Longji), the patron saint of opera troupes, and a wooden statue of Guan Yu.
According to the rules, this box must be the first one loaded onto the vehicle and placed at the highest point; no one can sit on it, let alone turn their back to it.
That's "Master," you have to treat him with respect.
Lu Cheng stood on the steps, dressed in an inconspicuous gray-blue robe, holding the Xiangfei bamboo folding fan in his hand, which he slowly twirled without opening it.
He looked at the bustling scene with a calm expression.
"Master, everything is ready."
Shunzi ran over, his muscular physique stretching his coarse cloth jacket taut, and beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.
"We left two guards at home to watch over things, and the rest of the brothers, including the cook Lao Liu, a total of forty-six people, were all brought along."
"Um."
Lu Cheng nodded, his gaze sweeping over his excited yet nervous young apprentices.
Qinglian and Hongyu, the two girls, were on their first long trip and were chattering away, peering out the carriage window.
Little Bean and Lu Ling, those two little rascals, were climbing up and down the carriage shaft, while Tong Sanjin grabbed them by the ears and gave them a good scolding.
This doesn't look like venturing into a dragon's den or a tiger's lair at all.
They were clearly going on a spring outing.
"That's right."
Lu Cheng's lips curled up slightly.
"That's exactly the kind of lively atmosphere we're looking for."
"
"The more flamboyant we are, the more carefree we seem, and the less those rats hiding in the gutter in Tianjin can figure us out."
"Let's go."
Lu Cheng boarded the first carriage, which was the "official carriage" used by the troupe leader.
"Set off!"
With a shout from Zhou Daikui, the whip cracked sharply.
"Snapped!"
The wheels rolled on, crushing the bluestone slabs of Qianmen Street, leaving a deep rut.
This journey...
Is it a dragon crossing the river, or a lamb entering a tiger's den?
no one knows.
Only the string of copper bells hanging in the carriage jingled crisply with the swaying, seemingly providing accompaniment to this uncertain journey.
Qianmen Railway Station.
This place is always bustling with noise, like a pot of porridge boiling over.
The locomotive, billowing black smoke and resembling a giant iron snake, made a creaking sound that shook the ground.
People from all walks of life, from the most religious to the most savvy, have come together here to form a murky river.
There were compradors dressed in suits and carrying suitcases. There were old ladies with bound feet carrying baskets.
More often, it was the laborers carrying heavy bags, dressed in rags, who fought tooth and nail for a single copper coin.
The appearance of the Qingyun Troupe immediately caused a sensation.
For no other reason than those few big red boxes with seals on them, and that group of martial arts practitioners who looked very energetic.
"Wow, whose crew is this? Such a grand display!"
"Are you blind? Didn't you see it says 'Qingyun' on the flag? That's Master Lu's troupe!"
"Master Lu? The living martial saint who cleaved the Japanese in two?"
The crowd automatically parted to form a path.
Those eyes held a mixture of envy, awe, and a curious fascination with the drama of watching a spectacle unfold.
Lu Cheng walked in the middle, his expression calm.
He didn't use the VIP channel, which was reserved for warlords and foreigners.
He then led his apprentices through the passageways used by ordinary people.
"Excuse me, please make way."
Shunzi led the way, his towering figure standing there, without even lifting a finger, his sheer presence was enough to deter anyone from daring to challenge him.
Just then.
"Baka!"
A harsh curse came from the ticket gate.
Several Japanese soldiers in khaki uniforms were seen waving their rifle butts and driving away a group of civilians blocking their way.
"Get out of here, all of you get out of here!"
A woman holding a child was unable to dodge in time and was hit on the shoulder with a rifle butt. She screamed and fell to the ground, while the child cried loudly.
The Japanese soldier didn't stop; instead, he grinned maliciously and raised his big leather boot, about to kick the woman.
The surrounding villagers dared not speak out in anger, and each of them shrank back and hid.
In this land, foreigners and soldiers are the law.
"Smack."
A slender hand gently, yet firmly, grasped the leather boot that was about to fall.
The Japanese soldier felt as if his ankle was clamped by an iron clamp, and the force of his kick vanished without a trace, like a mud ox sinking into the sea.
Immediately afterwards, a piercing pain came.
"ah--!!"
The Japanese soldier screamed and hopped around on one leg, clutching his foot.
Lu Cheng released his grip, took out a snow-white handkerchief from his pocket, and slowly wiped his fingers.
He said casually, as if he had just touched something dirty.
"Roads are for people to walk on."
"Since you're wearing human skin, you have to do human things."
"To bully orphans and widows on this land of Beiping—is that hardly the spirit of Bushido?"
"you----"
Upon seeing this, the other Japanese soldiers immediately pulled the bolts of their rifles, pointing their dark gun barrels at them.
"You idiot, you Chinese pig, are you trying to rebel?!"
The surrounding people screamed in fright and scattered in all directions.
The atmosphere instantly became tense.
Shunzi, Lu Feng, and the others couldn't contain themselves any longer, and their hands were already reaching for the things at their waists.
Lu Cheng raised his hand to stop his disciples.
He looked at the gun barrels, but instead of being afraid, he took a step forward.
A flash of golden light appeared in those eyes.
Multiple destinies manifest themselves.
An invisible pressure spread out from him instantly.
That wasn't murderous intent.
That is "momentum".
It is a powerful force that looks down on all living beings as worthless, yet is also compassionate and empathetic.
Just like Guan Yu on the stage, who went to the meeting alone with his sword, and didn't even blink when facing the axemen of Eastern Wu.
The Japanese soldiers felt a sudden jolt in their hearts.
In their eyes, the Chinese man in the long gown in front of them seemed to have suddenly grown ten thousand feet tall, becoming an insurmountable god or demon.
The fear that surged from the depths of their souls made their hands tremble as they gripped their guns, and they even had the urge to kneel down and worship.
"roll."
Lu Cheng's lips moved slightly, and he uttered a single word.
There was no shouting or yelling.
But this word struck those Japanese soldiers like a heavy hammer blow to their hearts.
"Splash!"
The men were so startled by the shout that they stumbled backward, nearly tripping and losing their balance on their guns.
"Walk."
Lu Cheng didn't even glance at them again, but helped his sister-in-law up from the ground and smiled gently.
"Sister-in-law, it's alright now, take the child and get in the car."
After saying that, he led the Qingyun troupe and swaggered into the ticket gate.
Behind me, there was only deathly silence.
After a long while, someone finally let out a suppressed cheer.
"Great! You've really made us proud!"
"This is Master Lu! Amazing, truly amazing! He scared the Japanese away with just one glare!"
This is more than just kung fu.
This is—an aura.
The train chugged along for three hours.
Lu Cheng sat in the private room, holding a scroll in his hand, but his eyes were fixed on the scenery rushing past the window.
Once you leave Beiping city, the scenery changes.
It lacks the solemnity and composure of the capital city, but possesses a desolate and wild feel.
As you approach Tianjin, you can see the turbid Haihe River winding its way through the land, like a giant, earthen-yellow dragon lying on this saline-alkali land.
On the river, several huge ironclad warships were moored, flying the flags of various countries, their dark cannons pointing towards the shore.
Those are foreign warships.
Tianjin, located at the confluence of nine rivers, is a melting pot of people from all directions.
Here, one can find remnants of the Qing dynasty living a life of debauchery in the concessions, as well as gangsters from the Green Gang and Hongmen engaging in fierce battles at the docks.
There are foreign banks and trading companies, as well as three traditional crafts passed down from our ancestors: Zhang the Clay Figure, Wei the Kite, and Li the Brush.
-
This is a huge melting pot.
Whether it's a dragon or a worm, once it arrives here, it will be covered in color.
"Master, we've arrived."
With a long whistle and a puff of white smoke, the train slowly came to a stop at the Laolongtou Railway Station in Tianjin.
As soon as I got off the bus, a distinctive smell of the sea mixed with the smell of coal smoke hit me.
The platform was in complete chaos.
The porters carrying heavy loads, shirtless and revealing their dark backs, would fight on the spot over a customer's luggage.
The patrol officers, dressed in black uniforms and carrying batons, would strike anyone they saw, muttering curses in a Tianjin accent.
"Excuse me, excuse me, don't block my way!"
"Whose box is this? It's so heavy! More money, you absolutely have to pay more!"
As soon as Qingyun's troupe arrived with their large and small bags, they were immediately surrounded by a group of porters.
The leader was a burly man with a face full of scars, a white towel around his neck, and a pipe in his hand.
His eyes swept over the sealed opera boxes, a greedy glint in them.
"Hey, what kind of deity has come to Tianjin to make a fortune?"
The burly man stood sideways in the middle of the road, neither moving aside nor offering any help, just staring at it sideways.
"This box looks expensive; it must be made of mahogany, right?"
"According to the rules of our old Longtou Wharf, the toll," or "landing fee," is calculated based on the weight of the boxes.
"This box must cost at least two silver dollars, right?"
Two silver dollars?
This is outright robbery!
Under normal circumstances, a box would only fetch a maximum of two copper coins.
Zhou Daikui was so angry that his beard stood on end, and he was about to step forward to argue with him.
Lu Cheng reached out and stopped him.
He didn't even look at the burly man, but just winked at Shunzi beside him.
Shunzi is a pictophonetic character.
Without saying a word, the towering man strode forward.
Without saying a word, he bent down and grabbed the heaviest box, the one filled with weapon handles, with one hand.
That box must have weighed at least three or four hundred pounds.
"rise!"
Shunzi let out a low growl.
He actually managed to lift that box of metal objects with just one hand.
It's not just about picking it up.
Shunzi flicked his wrist, and the large box spun in the air before landing steadily on his shoulder.
"Thump!"
With a muffled thud, the cement ground beneath Shunzi's feet cracked in several places.
But he didn't blush or pant, as if he were carrying a sack of cotton.
"Brother."
Shunzi grinned at the dumbfounded burly man, revealing a set of white teeth.
"This box is indeed heavy."
"But my shoulders can still hold up."
"No need for you to trouble yourself."
After saying that, Shunzi carried the box and strode forward as if nothing had happened.
The burly man and the group of laborers behind him were completely dumbfounded.
Three or four hundred pounds with one hand?
Is this a human? Or is this a bear that has become a spirit?
This guy's a trained fighter!
In Tianjin, people are very particular about "being perceptive." Those who work at the docks all know who they can mess with and who they can't.
That's a real tough nut to crack.
"Oh my, so you're a martial arts expert! My apologies for not recognizing you."
The burly man's face instantly contorted into a smile, and he quickly made way for him.
"Since you can carry this box yourself, then I won't embarrass myself by doing it."
"Gentlemen, please, please!"
This is the world of martial arts.
Strength is always the best passport.
As soon as we exited the train station, several large horse-drawn carriages were already waiting outside.
This was arranged in advance by Mei Lanfang.
The leader was a middle-aged man, wearing a long gown and glasses, who looked very refined.
"Excuse me, are you Master Lu from Beiping?"
The middle-aged man stepped forward, cupped his hands in greeting, and said, "My surname is Zhao, and I am the manager of the China Grand Theatre. Boss Mei specifically instructed me to come and greet you all."
"Thank you for your trouble, Steward Zhao," Lu Cheng replied.
"Master Lu, you're too kind."
Manager Zhao glanced at the Qingyun Troupe, especially at their opera boxes and strong apprentices, a hint of awe flashing in his eyes.
A person's name, a tree's shadow.
Lu Cheng's deeds in Beiping had long since spread to Tianjin.
Slaying Japanese ronin with a sword was a particularly inspiring act in Tianjin, a city teeming with foreigners.
"The accommodation has been arranged; it's at the National Hotel, right next to the French Concession."
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Manager Zhao led the way while quietly explaining things.
"It's a bit more expensive there, but it's quiet and close to the theater. Plus, it's on the edge of the concession, so those Japanese don't dare to be too reckless."
"Thank you for your trouble."
The group boarded the car and drove off in a grand procession towards the French Concession.
Throughout the journey, Lu Cheng looked out the car window at the scenery outside.
Tianjin is indeed different from Beiping.
Everywhere you look there are Western-style buildings, with pointed roofs and domes, made of red bricks and bluestone.
The streets were filled not only with rickshaws, but also with gasoline-powered cars and even clanging trams.
There are many foreigners.
British gentlemen in tailcoats, French ladies with parasols, and Japanese ronin with samurai swords at their waists and wearing wooden clogs rampaged through the area.
The ordinary Chinese people were mostly dressed in rags, walking along the roadside with their necks hunched, quickly avoiding foreigners when they saw them, their eyes revealing numbness and fear.
"This world—"
Lu Cheng sighed and lowered the curtains.
National Hotel.
This is a typical European-style building, tall and grand, with doormen wearing white gloves at the entrance.
Upon entering the lobby, one is greeted by a dazzling display of gold and silver, with crystal chandeliers that make one dizzy.
The Qingyun Class's inexperienced disciples were completely dumbfounded, and they couldn't even walk properly.
"Don't look around, it's embarrassing."
-
Zhou Daikui muttered a rebuke in a low voice, though his own palms were sweating. "How much does it cost to stay here for a night?"
After everything was settled, it was already dark.
Lu Cheng didn't let anyone go out and wander around. He gave a strict order: except for meals, no one was allowed to leave their room.
The waters of Tianjin are too deep; it's best to be careful when you're new here.
After dinner, Lu Cheng returned to his room.
This is a suite with a small balcony.
He stood on the balcony, looking at the night view of the French Concession.
Bright lights and dazzling neon signs.
From the nearby dance hall, faint, decadent music could be heard.
"The courtesan, oblivious to the sorrow of a fallen nation, still sings 'The Flowers of the Rear Courtyard' across the river."
Lu Cheng sneered.
He took out the black wooden plaque that Mei Lanfang had given him from his pocket.
It is carved with an unknown ferocious beast, with simple and ancient lines, exuding a fierce aura.
"Master Yuan the Eighth"
Lu Cheng stroked the wooden plaque.
"French Concession, Defeng Tea House"
"Looks like I'll have to pay my respects to this real Buddha at the dock tonight."
Night was falling.
Lu Cheng changed into an inconspicuous black outfit, put on the baseball cap, and pulled the brim down low.
Instead of using the main entrance, he leaped from the second-floor balcony, landing silently like a big cat and instantly disappearing into the darkness.
The French Concession was a no-man's-land.
This is the most chaotic, yet also the most prosperous, area of Tianjin.
There are no laws, only gang rules.
Gambling dens, opium dens, and brothels lined the streets, attracting people from all walks of life.
-
Tak Fung Tea House is located at the very end of this street.
The teahouse was small, a two-story building, with two dim lanterns hanging at the entrance.
But no one dares to cause trouble here.
Because the two guards sitting at the entrance had bulging pockets, meaning they were carrying weapons.
Lu Cheng lowered the brim of his hat and walked over.
"stop."
A bouncer stretched out his hand and blocked their way.
"What are you doing here? We don't serve strangers."
Lu Cheng remained silent.
He simply took the black wooden plaque out of his sleeve and waved it in his hand.
The attendant's expression changed instantly when he saw the sign.
His fierce and menacing demeanor vanished instantly, and he bent over.
"So you are—a distinguished guest."
"Eighth Master is listening to storytelling in the private room on the second floor."
"Please, please come in!"
The security guards quickly made way and even respectfully helped lift the curtain.
Lu Cheng put away the wooden sign and stepped inside.
Upon entering, a strong smell of tobacco mixed with the aroma of tea wafts towards you.
The lobby on the first floor was full of people, mostly men dressed in shorts, some shirtless, some with tattoos showing, drinking tea and chatting noisily.
Lu Cheng looked straight ahead and went straight up to the second floor.
The second floor is very quiet.
Only the innermost private room had four burly men standing at the door, each with bulging temples, clearly skilled in martial arts.
Lu Cheng walked over and showed the sign.
The burly men exchanged glances, and one of them turned and knocked on the door.
"Eighth Master, a guest with a Black Tiger badge has arrived."
"Oh?"
An old but strong voice came from inside, with a heavy Tianjin accent.
"Please come in."
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