yasinovel Chapter 123 This is... Chinese Kung Fu
Chapter 123 This is... Chinese Kung Fu
Chapter 124 This is... Chinese Kung Fu
Now, if he doesn't fight, he looks like a frail scholar, even more so than before.
some.
That sharp, murderous aura, that intimidating pressure, all disappeared.
But that's the scariest part.
Because all that power had been "transformed" into his bones and hidden in his soul.
A knife is most dangerous when it is in its sheath.
"Did it work?"
Behind him came Shang Yunxiang's somewhat emotional voice.
The old man hadn't been drinking today. He was holding a broom and was sweeping the floor idly.
Looking at Lu Cheng's transformed demeanor, his eyes were filled with envy, but also a hint of relief.
"It's done."
Lu Cheng turned around, smiled and nodded.
That smile was clean, pure, and refreshing.
"Thank you so much for these seven days, senior."
"Thanks my ass."
"6
MJJ
Shang Yunxiang threw the broom on the ground and said irritably.
"I've taught students my whole life, and I've never seen anyone so discouraging."
"Seven days—just seven days!"
"From the peak of internal strength to the entry level of internal strength, even a genius would need three to five years of practice, and it also depends on fate."
"You think you're all that, just because you drank a couple of times, stirred up a couple of puddles of water, and got a few beatings?"
Although Shang Yunxiang was cursing, his face was all wrinkled with laughter.
He was genuinely happy.
The fact that Xingyi School has such a successor is a blessing from its founder and a great fortune for Chinese martial arts.
"Alright, now that you've mastered it, get lost."
Shang Yunxiang waved his hand and turned his back, not wanting Lu Cheng to see the trace of reluctance in his eyes.
"There's still a lot of things waiting for you in Beiping."
"And that big performance, isn't it about to start?"
"As for Tianjin—"
Shang Yunxiang paused, his voice becoming somewhat heavy, but he didn't turn around; he simply waved his hand at the air.
"With your current abilities, as long as you don't scare yourself, you can go anywhere in the world. Go away, don't get in my way."
Lu Cheng looked at this old man who, despite his eccentric temperament, had a warm heart.
He didn't say anything sentimental.
People of the martial world don't need to express their gratitude for great kindness.
He took three steps back and stood still.
Amidst the rustling of the pines, he straightened his clothes, which had been ruffled by the mountain wind, and meticulously arranged his moon-white robe. Then, he clasped his hands together, raised them above his head, and bowed deeply to the old man's back.
He bent over completely.
This gesture was of immense weight.
A man's knees are worth gold, he only kneels to Heaven and his parents. But this bow is a sign of respect for those who pass on their knowledge and skills, and for the deep-seated protectiveness of the martial arts masters.
"Take care, senior."
"When I return from Tianjin, I will bring you fine wine and drink with you until we are completely drunk."
After saying that, Lu Cheng took one last look at the small courtyard that had transformed him, then resolutely turned around and strode towards the gate.
The sound of footsteps crunching on the pine needles faded into the distance.
Shang Yunxiang remained with his back to the door, listening to the footsteps, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.
He thought of the bottomless murky waters of Tianjin, the almost pathological research the Japanese had on Chinese martial arts, and the countless heroes who had died in assassinations.
This child is too arrogant and too headstrong.
What is rigid is easily broken.
"etc."
Just as Lu Cheng stepped one foot out of the courtyard gate, Shang Yunxiang suddenly let out a sigh behind him.
Lu Cheng paused, turning around in confusion.
Shang Yunxiang had turned around at some point.
He stood under that ancient pine tree, all the playfulness and ease on his face gone.
"return."
Shang Yunxiang waved.
"Senior?" Lu Cheng walked back into the courtyard as instructed, his expression calm.
"Lu Cheng, remember this."
"Xingyiquan, Bajiquan, and even Taiji and Bagua, these things passed down from our ancestors have been around for hundreds of years and are very famous."
"Being famous is both a good thing and a bad thing."
"Because your moves, your routines, even your power generation habits are all transparent to those who are paying attention!"
"The Japanese aren't stupid. That Black Dragon Society, and that escaped Yagyu Shizuku, they've been studying Chinese martial arts for quite some time now."
No matter how fierce your "Tiger Form" is, how thick your "Bear Form" is, or even how domineering your newly learned "Eight Extremes Mountain Lean" is, in the hands of a true expert, or in a killing formation specifically designed to target you, those are all predictable and deadly moves.
"Techniques are static, but people are dynamic."
"If one day, your opponent figures out all your boxing styles, designs countermeasures, and sets traps for you to fall into—"
"At that time, with your Transformation Realm cultivation, you'll just be a target with quick reflexes."
Upon hearing this, Lu Cheng felt a chill run down his spine, and a cold sweat broke out on his back.
indeed.
There is no invincible boxing style in this world.
No matter how high your martial arts skills are, you're still vulnerable to being targeted.
Just like the day he used Xingyi spear to break Wanyan Lie's horizontal training, as long as you find the weakness, you can use four ounces to move a thousand pounds.
He went to Tianjin openly, while the enemy remained hidden.
If the opponent sets a trap based on his fighting style —
"Your teachings are correct," Lu Cheng said solemnly.
"You need to have your own things."
Shang Yunxiang took a deep breath.
"There needs to be that kind of move—unreasonable, unconventional, so powerful that even if the opponent sees through it, they can't dodge or block it—a killer move!"
"A killer move?" Lu Cheng's eyes narrowed.
"Yes, a killing technique doesn't need to be many, one move is enough. What matters is that one decisive moment."
Shang Yunxiang walked to the center of the courtyard.
He didn't put on any fancy airs; he just stood there casually.
"Back then, Grandmaster Guo Yunshen was invincible with his half-step Bengquan."
"Everyone knows he's going to unleash a devastating punch, but why can't anyone stop him?"
"Because that's absolute power, compressing all the body's essence, energy, and spirit into that half-step space, exploding in an instant. That's the momentum of betting one's life on that one punch!"
"Today, I'm passing on this last trick to you."
Shang Yunxiang looked at Lu Cheng with intense eyes.
"Watch closely, I'll only do it once."
Before he could finish speaking...
The old man, who had looked ordinary, suddenly changed his demeanor.
It was a kind of tragic scene, as if they had crawled out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood; it was a resolute determination to go even if there were millions of people against them.
"collapse!"
There was no buildup of power, no warning.
Shang Yunxiang suddenly lunged forward with his front foot.
It wasn't just taking a step; it was like plowing the land, the soles of the shoes rubbing violently against the blue bricks, producing a piercing shriek.
At the same time, his back foot followed half a step.
It's just a half-step away.
His spine trembled violently, and his bones and muscles roared, producing a muffled sound like thunder.
He threw a punch.
A simple punch.
A straight punch.
But in Lu Cheng's discerning eyes, this punch changed.
That wasn't a fist.
It was a cannonball fired from the barrel, a falling meteor, a point where all the power in the world converged.
"boom-!!!"
The fist didn't hit anything; it just struck the air.
But Lu Cheng could clearly see that the air in front of Shang Yunxiang's fist was actually punched into a visible white air burst ring!
Three zhang away.
The ancient pine tree, as thick as a person's embrace, was not touched, yet it suddenly shook violently, and pine needles fell like a torrential rain.
In the very center of the tree trunk, a fist-shaped dent appeared out of nowhere, and the wood grain cracked inch by inch, as if it had been smashed hard by an invisible hammer.
Throwing objects from a distance?
No, this is an air cannon formed by the extreme speed and weight of the punch, compressed air.
"call----"
Shang Yunxiang withdrew his fist, his face turning slightly pale, clearly indicating that the punch had greatly depleted his qi and blood.
He turned his head and looked at the shocked Lu Cheng.
"This is called—the Half-Step Crushing Fist."
"But you can't just copy me."
"You're an opera singer, you have your own 'Overlord' aura, you have your own 'White Tiger' spirit."
"Take this explosive energy, integrate it into your own killing intent, and make it something unique to you, Lu Cheng."
"This move, once made, will determine life or death."
"Go on, figure it out yourself on the way. This is my farewell gift for you!"
Lu Cheng stood there, replaying the magnificent punch he had just delivered in his mind over and over again.
The brutality and decisiveness of that punch were deeply etched into his soul.
a long time.
He clasped his hands in a fist salute again and bowed deeply, a salute even heavier and more profound than the one he had given before.
"Thank you, Master, for the fist technique."
This time, he changed his form of address, and he meant it sincerely.
Shang Yunxiang didn't say anything, he just waved his hand, turned around and went into the house.
Down the mountain.
Shunzi leaned against the carriage, idly counting the ants on the ground.
For the past seven days, he has stayed at the foot of the mountain, not going anywhere, and eating dry rations.
He looked noticeably thinner and had a scruffy beard.
"Shunzi" (a type of Chinese character)
A gentle voice came from behind.
Shunzi looked up abruptly and saw that familiar figure walking down the mountain path.
"Master!"
Shunzi was so excited she almost jumped up and rushed over to help Lu Cheng with his bag.
But when he got closer, he froze.
Because he felt that his master seemed to have changed.
In the past, when Master went down the mountain, he was imposing and his walk was so fierce that people dared not look him in the eye.
But now————
When the master walked over, it was like a gust of wind blowing through the treetops, without making a sound or exerting any pressure.
He looks more like a scholar now.
"Master, you—you've mastered it?" Shunzi asked tentatively.
Lu Cheng smiled but didn't say anything.
He reached out and gently patted Shunzi on the shoulder.
Just this one shot.
Shunzi felt a warm current flow down her shoulder and instantly spread throughout her body.
The fatigue and soreness accumulated from staying up late and being exposed to the cold these past few days vanished instantly under this warm current.
"this----"
Shunzi's eyes widened as if she had seen a god.
"Get in the car."
Lu Cheng lifted the curtain and climbed into the carriage.
"Return to the residence."
"Alright!"
Shunzi cracked his whip, and the two chestnut horses, which had been waiting impatiently, galloped back with great joy.
Back to Qianmen Street.
It was midday, and the streets were bustling with activity.
Lu Cheng sat in the car, looking out at the world through the gap in the curtain.
Not the same.
The world was still the same world, but in his eyes, it had become clearer and more vivid.
He could hear the shouts of the waiters in the teahouse a hundred meters away, smell the fresh meat filling from the steamed bun shop on the street corner, and even sense the joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness emanating from passersby.
This feeling of being in control is wonderful.
-
The carriage stopped in front of the Lu residence.
As soon as I got out of the car, I saw a group of people gathered at the entrance, pointing and gesturing at the gate.
"Wow, the Qingyun Class has really made a name for themselves this time."
"I heard that Boss Mei personally announced that the grand finale of this performance, 'Farewell My Concubine,' will be a collaboration with Boss Lu."
"That's right, Master Lu's reputation is at its zenith right now."
Lu Cheng got out of the car, smiled slightly, and entered the courtyard through the side gate without disturbing anyone.
As soon as I entered the backyard, I sensed something was off.
Tension and depression.
All the disciples were practicing their skills, but no one spoke, and no one dared to slack off. They all had tense faces, as if facing a formidable enemy.
Even Little Bean, who usually loves to slack off, was gritting his teeth and doing somersaults with sandbags on his head.
"What happened?"
Lu Cheng walked to the corridor.
Zhou Daikui, who was correcting his apprentices' movements, turned around and saw Lu Cheng. His old face lit up instantly, as if he had seen a savior.
"Chengzi, you're finally back!"
Zhou Daikui ran over in a few steps, grabbed Lu Cheng's hand and wouldn't let go, his palms were sweaty.
"Something happened?" Lu Cheng asked.
"It's not that something happened, it's that—a 'god' has come."
Zhou Daikui lowered his voice and pointed towards the main hall.
"Boss Mei—he's here."
"They're having tea inside."
"Boss Mei?" Lu Cheng raised an eyebrow.
This titan of Peking Opera actually came to visit me in person?
That's a huge favor.
"Is he alone?"
"No, I brought that Steward Qi, and—and a few foreigners who looked quite impressive."
"Foreigners?"
Lu Cheng was somewhat surprised.
"Let's go take a look."
In the main hall.
The aroma of tea fills the air.
A middle-aged man, dressed in a dark blue long gown and wearing gold-rimmed glasses, with a refined and scholarly appearance, was sitting in the guest seat, savoring his tea.
Even when seated, his posture was extremely upright, exuding an air of elegance and nobility.
It was none other than the world-renowned Mei Lanfang, boss Mei.
Beside him sat two blond, blue-eyed foreigners, holding cameras and notebooks, curiously examining the furnishings in the room.
"Boss Mei, it's been a long time."
Lu Cheng stepped into the house and bowed with his hands clasped in greeting.
-
Mei Lanfang put down his teacup and stood up.
He looked at Lu Cheng, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.
The last time I saw Lu Cheng was in a newspaper photo; he looked like Guan Yu, exuding a fierce aura and standing with his sword drawn.
But seeing you today—
The young man before them was dressed in white, as pure as snow, and as gentle and refined as jade. He had no trace of arrogance or murderous intent about him.
Like a pebble that has been washed by flowing water for thousands of years, it is round and unassuming, yet it exudes a sense of resilience.
"Back to basics —"
Mei Lanfang secretly praised him in his heart.
He had seen this kind of temperament in many art masters, but it was the first time he had seen it in a martial arts actor in his early twenties.
"Mr. Lu, I apologize for the intrusion and for disturbing you."
Mei Lanfang's voice was very pleasant, with a unique magnetic quality.
"Mr. Mei, you're too kind. It's an honor for Qingyun Troupe that you could come. It's a great honor for our troupe."
After exchanging a few pleasantries, the two took their seats as host and guest.
"Boss Lu, I've come here with two matters."
Mei Lanfang didn't beat around the bush and got straight to the point.
"The first thing, of course, is for the performance of 'Farewell My Concubine'."
"The grand performance is in a few days. Although we've known each other for a long time, we've never actually performed together."
"On stage, even the slightest mistake can lead to a huge error. I was thinking, how about we go over the lines first, just to get it over with?"
That's professional.
It is also a form of reverence for art.
Even a star of Mei Lanfang's caliber wouldn't dare to go on stage without rehearsing.
"That is my wish, but I dare not ask," Lu Cheng replied with a smile.
"And the second one—"
Mei Lanfang pointed to the two foreigners next to him.
"These two are reporters from Time magazine, Jack and Lucy."
"They came all the way from Shanghai."
"We heard that Boss Lu killed a Japanese ronin with his sword, which boosted our national prestige. They are very interested and want to do an exclusive interview with you and take some photos to publish in American newspapers."
"This is a great opportunity to showcase Chinese Kung Fu and Chinese opera to the world."
The foreign reporter named Jack, speaking broken Chinese, said, "Mr. Lu, your story is amazing. I'd like to know, do you really know—Kung Fu?"
"Is that right?"
"Could you... show us what you've got?"
Lu Cheng looked at the two foreigners, then at Mei Lanfang, who looked on with anticipation.
He knew this was a good thing.
In this day and age, being featured in Time magazine means that China's voice has been amplified.
This is not just about his personal reputation, but also about the image of the country.
"Want to show off your skills?"
Lu Cheng smiled and put down his teacup.
"Kung Fu is not for performing; it's for killing."
"but----"
He glanced out the window.
In the yard, a black cat was lazily sunbathing on the wall.
"Since you've come from afar as a guest, then I'll—make a fool of myself."
Lu Cheng did not get up to throw a punch, nor did he pick up a knife or a gun.
He simply sat in his chair, still maintaining that gentle smile.
then.
He gently waved to the black cat outside the window.
"Meow One"
That wild cat was usually extremely afraid of people and would run away at the sight of them.
At this moment, it was as if they had been summoned by something.
It stood up, stretched, then lightly jumped down from the wall, and with elegant steps, crossed the courtyard and entered the main hall.
It was not afraid of the strangers in the house.
Instead, it went straight to Lu Cheng's feet, rubbed its head against Lu Cheng's trouser leg, and then obediently lay down, making a comfortable "purring" sound in its throat.
Lu Cheng reached out and gently stroked the black cat's back.
"Is this considered kung fu?"
The foreign reporter, Jack, looked disappointed and shrugged.
"This is just... training animals?"
Mei Lanfang's eyes narrowed, revealing a thoughtful expression.
Lu Cheng offered no explanation.
He simply pressed lightly on the black cat's back.
"rise."
With that press.
The black cat suddenly seemed to turn into a ball.
"Whoosh"
Without any warning, it was effortlessly sent into the air by Lu Cheng's pressing force.
It is at least two meters tall.
But the most amazing thing is...
The cat did not panic and scratch wildly in mid-air.
It was as if it was being supported by an invisible force, its limbs outstretched, and it gracefully twirled in the air.
then.
Lu Cheng gently lifted his palm upwards.
The cat that fell landed steadily in his palm.
It has no weight.
It's like a feather.
"That's called—effortless mastery."
Lu Cheng stared at the dumbfounded foreigner.
"That's also—Tai Chi."
This move, though seemingly simple, actually incorporates the most profound "listening to the force," "understanding the force," and "neutralizing the force" in neutralizing force.
To manipulate a living creature at will, making it undisturbed and compliant with your strength, is more difficult than lifting a thousand-pound boulder.
"0hmyGod————"
Jack nearly dropped the camera he was holding.
Although he didn't understand martial arts, he could tell that this absolutely did not conform to the common sense of physics.
"This is... Chinese Kung Fu? Amazing, absolutely amazing!"
The shutter clicked.
A photograph was frozen in time.
In the photo, Lu Cheng is dressed in white, looking gentle and refined, holding a black cat in his palm. The black cat has a peaceful look in its eyes.
This photo later appeared on the cover of Time magazine.
The title is: [The Mysterious Power of the East: A Master Who Could Communicate with Nature].
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