nownovels Chapter 87 Hiding in a Turtle Breath, Counterattacking the Black Wolf Group!
Chapter 87 Hiding in a Turtle Breath, Counterattacking the Black Wolf Group!
Chapter 88 Hiding in a Turtle Breath, Counterattacking the Black Wolf Group!
"Buzz—"
Lu Cheng's mind stirred.
The rewarded technique instantly permeated his limbs and bones.
In that instant, he felt as if the flow of qi and blood in his body had been paused.
The heartbeat began to slow down, from its original strong throbbing to a barely perceptible beat.
"Thump—thump—"
In one minute, it only jumped three times.
Body temperature begins to drop, pores completely shut off, not even a trace of heat escapes.
He sat there, and although he was still there, his "presence" was rapidly fading away.
If you don't look at it with your eyes, just by feeling it, it seems as if the person sitting on this chair is not a living person, but a cold stone or a piece of dead wood.
"Wonderful!"
Lu Cheng secretly praised him.
This is not only a method for maintaining health, but also—the best disguise.
"Master! Master!"
Shunzi's loud voice broke the silence.
"We're all packed and have reserved seats at Quanjude. Shall we go?"
A group of apprentices excitedly gathered around, removed their makeup, changed into ordinary clothes, and were all starving.
Lu Cheng looked out the window.
It was completely dark when the wind and snow intensified.
He smiled slightly but did not get up.
"Shunzi, you take your junior brothers and go first."
"Order your food, and have the duck sliced and ready for me."
"Huh?" Shunzi was taken aback. "Master, aren't you coming with us?"
"I still have some accounts to settle, and I also need to wait for a friend."
Lu Cheng picked up the teacup and gently blew on it.
"Go on, don't let the children go hungry."
"Alright! Then hurry up, Master!"
Shunzi didn't think much of it, and calling to his group of junior brothers, they rushed out from backstage and disappeared into the snowy night.
Soon, the backend became empty.
Only a few dim kerosene lamps remained, swaying in the wind.
Lu Cheng did not close the tent.
With a casual wave of his hand, he blew out most of the kerosene lamp on the table, leaving only a tiny ember, which he placed in the corner.
Then, he leaned back and nestled into the large armchair.
[Turtle Breathing Technique], in full operation!
In an instant, his breathing stopped and his heartbeat became barely perceptible.
In the dim shadows, he seemed to melt away, becoming a lifeless sculpture.
Time passed by, second by second.
About fifteen minutes later.
"hiss--
—
A very faint sound of fabric tearing came from behind the heavy cotton curtain at the back.
Followed by.
Two dark figures, like ghosts, silently slipped in.
They didn't go through the main entrance; instead, they cut open the paper window on the side and climbed in.
The two men were dressed in black, with only their piercing eyes showing.
One man had a bulging sash at his waist, with a short knife tucked into it.
The other person was carrying a long, narrow cloth bag, and judging by its shape—it was a gun!
As soon as the two entered the house, they looked around warily.
The backstage area was cluttered, piled high with boxes and costumes.
In the dim light, the armchair was located deep in the shadows, looking empty.
"Nobody's here."
The dark figure carrying the cloth bag lowered his voice and breathed a sigh of relief.
"All those opera singers have gone to Quanjude, so this place is empty."
"Perfect."
Another shadowy figure with a dagger gave a sinister smile.
"We'll wait here."
"When that guy surnamed Lu comes backstage to get his face done first thing tomorrow morning—"
The shadowy figure with the gun patted the cloth bag in his hand, found a box not far from the armchair, sat down, and began to untie the cloth bag.
A dark, gleaming sniper rifle was revealed.
"This time, let's see where he can hide."
"Last time it was a pistol, this kid was just lucky."
"This time, from 300 meters away, a single shot to the head!"
The two seemed very relaxed, thinking that there wasn't even a mouse in the house besides them.
The shadowy figure with the dagger even walked to the table in front of Lu Cheng, picked up the teapot Lu Cheng hadn't finished drinking from, and shook it.
"Hey, it's still hot."
"Perfect timing, I'm a little thirsty."
He stood there casually in front of Lu Cheng, less than two feet away.
He even put one foot on the edge of the armchair where Lu Cheng was sitting!
"You know, Lu Cheng is quite a legend."
The shadowy figure with the dagger poured tea while chatting with his companion.
"At such a young age, he has mastered a great deal of martial arts, but unfortunately—he offended someone he shouldn't have."
"Commander Zhang said that even if we have to bombard him, we have to blast him into dust."
The dark figure assembling the rifle sneered, "Even the best kung fu master is afraid of a kitchen knife. Let alone this German-made sniper rifle?"
"Once the first shot is fired tomorrow, this person will be gone from Beiping."
"When the time comes, we'll take the heads to claim the reward—it'll be five thousand silver dollars!"
The shadowy figure with the dagger took a sip of tea and clicked his tongue.
"This tea is good, it's pre-rain Longjing."
"This chair is nice too, it's made of rosewood, right? It feels quite heavy—"
He reached out and touched the armrest of the armchair.
This touch.
His hand froze.
Because his fingers touched a warm piece of sleeve.
That was—a person's sleeve.
His pupils instantly contracted to the size of pinpoints, a chill ran from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head, and his scalp felt like it was about to explode.
Is someone sitting in that chair?!
He suddenly lowered his head.
It matched perfectly with a pair —
Eyes that gleamed faintly with gold in the darkness.
Those eyes were calm and deep, yet they carried an indifference as if looking at the dead.
Lu Cheng sat there quietly, watching him.
It's like watching a clown.
"Is the tea good?"
Lu Cheng's voice rang out softly.
"ah!!!"
The shadowy figure was so frightened that the teacup in its hand clattered to the ground, and it jumped back as if it had seen a ghost.
"Who?!"
The companion who was loading the gun was also startled. He pulled back the bolt and was about to aim.
But it's too late.
Lu Cheng made a move.
[Turtle Breathing Technique] is instantly dispelled.
That suppressed energy, at this moment, erupted like a volcano!
"boom!"
A thunderous roar, like that of a tiger and a leopard, exploded forth.
Lu Cheng did not get up, but simply raised one hand, his five fingers forming a claw.
Swift as lightning.
He grabbed the dark figure with the dagger by the throat.
"Snap!"
No nonsense.
After the sharp crack, the man's head slumped down, the terror in his eyes still lingering.
at the same time.
The dark figure with the gun had just raised the muzzle.
With his other hand, Lu Cheng grabbed the lid of the teacup on the table.
A flick of the wrist.
"call out-"
The porcelain lid, with a sharp whistling sound, cut precisely into the man's wrist like a dart.
"puff!"
Blood splattered.
The man screamed and dropped his gun to the ground.
Lu Cheng slowly stood up and patted the dust off his clothes.
In the dimly lit backstage area, he was like a demon descending to earth. Two bodies lay on the ground. One had its neck snapped, lying limply like a broken rag doll; the other clutched its bleeding wrist, writhing in pain, letting out a "ho ho" scream, but Lu Cheng stepped on its chest, forcibly silencing the scream.
"Sh-"
Lu Cheng raised a finger and put it to his lips, making a shushing gesture.
"I just finished performing, my throat is tired, and I don't want to speak loudly."
He bent down and picked up the sniper rifle that had fallen to the ground.
Made in Germany, a Mauser 98k, fitted with a Zeiss scope. This thing is a hot commodity on the black market; you can't buy it even if you have money, you have to trade it for gold bars.
"Good gun."
Lu Cheng pulled the bolt back, and with a crisp, pleasant click, the sound was clear and melodious.
"It's a pity that the person wielding the gun has a restless mind."
He casually tossed the gun onto the stage prop box beside him, then looked at the survivor at his feet. The man was dressed in night clothes, his eyes filled with terror, as if he had seen a living Yama.
"Who sent you?"
Lu Cheng's voice was very soft, like chatting with an old friend.
The assassin was a tough nut to crack. Despite being in excruciating pain and sweating profusely, he gritted his teeth and turned his head away, shouting, "Kill me if you dare! I'll—"
"Click."
Another crisp sound.
Without a word, Lu Cheng lightly spun his toe. The assassin's left index finger, like a piece of chalk being crushed, instantly turned into minced meat.
"ah--!!"
The scream had barely begun when Lu Cheng grabbed a rag he used to wipe his face and stuffed it into his mouth.
"I have no patience."
Lu Cheng crouched down, his eyes, now activated with the "Fiery Eyes of Truth," gleaming with an eerie golden light in the darkness, staring directly into the assassin's eyes.
"You are Commander Zhang's guard platoon, the Black Wolf Group that specializes in doing dirty work."
"6
"This gun is specially supplied by the Fengtian Arsenal."
"I saw it all without you saying anything."
Under the gaze of those eyes that seemed to see right through one's soul, the assassin's mental defenses completely crumbled. He felt completely transparent in front of this man, unable to hide even the deepest fear in his bones.
He nodded frantically, making muffled sounds, his eyes filled with pleading. He thought that as long as he backed down, he could be spared and go back to report, just like the rules of the underworld.
however.
Lu Cheng stood up.
He looked down at the assassin at his feet, who had just threatened to pierce his head, the golden light in his eyes fading, replaced by an unfathomable indifference.
"Want to live?"
Lu Cheng asked casually.
The assassin nodded frantically, his face covered in tears and snot.
"What a pity."
Lu Cheng's lips curled into a cold smile, a veritable pronouncement from the King of Hell.
"If it were just a common feud between martial arts practitioners, I might ask you to pass on a message."
"But you shouldn't have, absolutely shouldn't have, pointed a gun at my head."
"I practice martial arts, and this head is precious."
"If you want to blow my head off, I'll have to take your life. That's called—tit for tat."
Before he could finish speaking...
Lu Cheng lifted his foot.
Without the slightest hesitation, and without the utterest pity.
The foot, clad in a thousand-layered cloth shoe, landed seemingly lightly, but in reality, it contained the terrifying, hidden force of the "Toad-Hooking Strength," capable of shattering one's lungs and internal organs.
"puff!"
A muffled thud.
It's like stepping on a rotten watermelon.
Lu Cheng's kick landed directly on the assassin's chest, right in the heart.
There were no screams, because there was simply no time to react.
The assassin's chest caved in instantly, his heart shattered into a bloody pulp inside his chest cavity. His eyes bulged, his limbs twitched violently, and then he lay motionless like a lump of mud.
utterly dead.
Decisive and ruthless, leaving no room for future trouble!
The room fell silent again.
Lu Cheng glanced at the two corpses on the ground, then at the German-made sniper rifle.
He took out a handkerchief and slowly wiped his hands, as if he had just crushed not two people, but two annoying bugs.
"Sending them back is the same as sending them away, and letting them die here is also the same as sending them away."
"Two corpses placed at the entrance of the Marshal's Mansion are more effective than any harsh words."
Lu Cheng walked to the corner and picked up the phone. In those days, it was rare for a theater to have a phone installed backstage. Only a big troupe like Qingyun could afford it.
The call connected, and a lazy voice came from the other end.
"Feed? Who is it?" It was Li, the adjutant from Marshal Ma's mansion.
"It's me, Lu Cheng."
"Hey! Instructor Lu? It's so late, you—"
"I'm backstage at the Deyun Tea Garden. There are two corpses here, and a German-made sniper rifle."
Lu Cheng spoke in a calm tone, as if he were simply asking what he had for dinner.
"Could you please send someone to clean the floor, Lieutenant Li?"
"The men are from Commander Zhang's Black Wolf Group. The guns are good; consider them spoils of war. I'll give them to the Marshal as toys later."
"As for those two corpses—"
Lu Cheng's voice carried a chilling undertone.
"Don't throw them into mass graves."
"Find a coffin, put him in it, and send him back to Commander Zhang."
"Just say that I, Lu Cheng, cleaned up his mess. No need to thank me."
There was a full three seconds of silence on the other end of the phone.
Immediately following was a gasp of shock and the sound of a chair overturning.
"Damn! That Zhang guy got a sniper rifle?! And you even managed to kill two of them?!"
"Master Lu—you're a true god!"
"You wait here, brother, I'll take some men over right away. Tonight, we'll handle this matter perfectly!"
I hung up the phone.
Lu Cheng looked at himself; his moon-white robe was completely smooth, without a single wrinkle, let alone a drop of blood.
He sat back down in the armchair, picked up the cup of tea that hadn't cooled down yet, and took a sip.
"This tea—"
"It tastes better when you drink after you've killed someone."
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