Chapter 471: The Red Boat Has a Killing Blade, Specializing in Slaying Heartless Dogs |
On the film set, the rain kept falling.
Jiang Wen sat behind the monitor, wrapped in a military coat, his eyes fixed on the dark speck moving across the screen.
It wasn't walking—it was crawling.
Jiang Ci, playing A Jie, had his right leg "broken" in the previous scene.
Right now, he truly looked like a cripple. His entire right leg dragged through the muddy water, and he relied solely on his left leg and the friction of his hands clawing at the ground to inch forward, centimeter by centimeter.
Jiang Ci cursed inwardly: *This old madman Jiang Wen won't even give me protective gear. Does he really think I'm made of iron?*
But his face showed nothing.
That face was deathly pale, with only two flames smoldering deep in his eyes.
Finally, he crawled to the entrance of the herbal tea shop with the "Clear Heat, Quell Fire" sign hanging above it.
In front of the ruins sat an old woman.
Aunt Feng.
This former Red Boat sword-and-horse performer was now just a widow mourning her husband.
She wore plain white hemp clothes, her hair unkempt and a mess on her head, clutching a folding fan handle tightly in her hand.
Aunt Feng just stared blankly at the fan handle, her eyes hollow.
Until that grating, teeth-grinding sound reached her ears.
Her eyes shifted, and she slowly lifted her head.
When she clearly saw A Jie lying in the muddy water—
Her hollow eyes suddenly erupted with a chilling murderous intent.
If it weren't for saving this ungrateful bastard, how would her old man have died?
A Jie didn't flinch under that gaze.
He struggled to prop himself up, adjusted his posture.
Then—
*Thud!*
Jiang Ci's knees slammed heavily into the hard flagstone.
The dull sound made the crew member holding the reflector nearby wince—it even hurt to listen to.
A Jie didn't raise his head. His forehead pressed tightly against the ground.
"Please, Aunt Feng… teach me martial arts."
Aunt Feng didn't move.
She coldly stared at the pile of meat at her feet.
"Martial arts?" Her voice was icy. "The Red Boat's martial arts are for protecting the country and family, for upholding justice."
"You deserve it?"
Aunt Feng pointed a trembling finger at A Jie's nose.
"You're nothing but a dog raised by the Tiger Gang!"
"Before, you helped them bite the neighbors. Now your master has abandoned you, broken your leg, and you come running to beg me?"
Her words stabbed like knives through the heart.
The old A Jie would have jumped up, cursed her out, or turned and walked away.
But this A Jie didn't move.
He remained in that kowtow position.
The rain poured heavier.
Jiang Wen didn't call cut.
The camera cut back and forth between the two—
The furious, heartbroken old woman;
The silent, iron-willed prodigal son who refused to turn back.
Slowly.
The rage in Aunt Feng's eyes began to waver.
She looked at the motionless young man before her.
The rain washed away the mud on his body, revealing those shocking scars.
Was this still the same worthless punk who only knew how to steal chickens and dogs?
That stubborn perseverance… It reminded her so much of Uncle Long back in the day.
"Cough, cough, cough, cough!"
Aunt Feng suddenly coughed violently.
That day, she had forcefully unleashed the Lion's Roar, damaging her lung meridians. She had been coughing up blood ever since.
She clutched her chest, swayed, and plopped down into the bamboo chair.
"What… is in your heart?" Aunt Feng gasped, her voice losing its sharp edge, taking on a trace of desolation. "Is it hatred? Or fear?"
"If it's for revenge, buy a knife and stab Ghost Claw Chen in the dead of night. No need to learn martial arts."
A Jie finally lifted his head.
In that instant, Jiang Wen immediately growled into his walkie-talkie, "Close-up! Get his eyes! Fast!"
The lens zoomed in sharply.
On the screen was a face covered in rain, dirty water, and bloodstains.
But those eyes held only the resolute determination of wild grass reborn after being burned to ash.
"I don't want to kill anyone." A Jie looked at Aunt Feng, his tone terrifyingly calm. "Uncle Long died to protect this street."
He stretched out his wounded hand and pointed at the threshold behind him.
"This street, this door—I'll guard them from now on."
"Unless I die, no one from the Tiger Gang will ever step across again."
Those words, combined with Jiang Ci's eyes, carried an immense weight.
Aunt Feng froze.
She looked at A Jie, as if through this young man's shadow, she saw Uncle Long decades ago, standing alone on the bow of the Red Boat, facing the river bandits.
"My master said that Red Boat disciples would rather die on the rack than kneel to live."
"A curse of fate…" Aunt Feng let out a long sigh. Two streams of turbid tears flowed down her wrinkled cheeks.
She wobbled to her feet, turned, and walked deep into the half-collapsed shop.
A moment later.
A heavy dragging sound came.
Aunt Feng dragged out a long cloth bundle and threw it in front of A Jie.
*Thud.*
The ground shook.
"Open it," Aunt Feng said coldly.
A Jie reached out and untied the faded red string on the cloth bundle.
Layer by layer of coarse cloth peeled away.
Inside was a waxwood pole.
This was the basic training tool for martial artists, and also the deadliest weapon.
"This was Uncle Long's weapon back in the day, and it was also what the Red Boat troupe used to practice the 'Great Martial Male Role,'" Aunt Feng said, her gaze dazed as she looked at the pole.
"This pole weighs eighteen catties. An ordinary person can't even lift it."
"Uncle Long used it to break a Japanese soldier's bayonet, and he used it to prop up a collapsing stage."
"The Flower City Awakening Lion Fist emphasizes waist and hips working as one, with the staff moving like a swimming dragon."
Aunt Feng's eyes suddenly turned sharp, fixed on A Jie.
"This martial art is a killing technique, but also a life-saving charm."
"Once you train, you have to throw your life into it."
"Your body is already half-crippled. Training this might kill you halfway."
"Are you afraid of death?"
A Jie didn't answer.
He reached out and gripped the cold waxwood pole.
It was heavy, pressing down on his hand.
The muscles in his arm bulged suddenly, veins standing out.
"Up!"
With a low growl.
A Jie grabbed the waxwood pole with one hand and, using the strength of his waist and abdomen, forcibly lifted himself off the ground.
Even though he was still standing on one leg, his body swaying precariously—
He held that staff in his hand.
"Death?" A Jie grinned, revealing a mouthful of teeth stained with blood.
That smile carried both A Jie's roguishness and the madness Jiang Ci infused into the character.
"Aunt Feng, from the day Uncle Long died, A Jie's life hasn't been his own anymore."
Aunt Feng looked at him. After a long silence, she slowly nodded.
"Good."
"Since you want to be this gate god, this old woman will grant you that wish."
Aunt Feng walked up to A Jie and squeezed his shoulder, making his eyes twitch in pain.
"From today on, forget who you are." Her voice echoed in the rain.
"There is no more A Jie here. Only the Red Boat's last… sword-and-horse performer disciple."
"Hold it tight!"
Aunt Feng suddenly barked.
A Jie instinctively tightened his grip on the staff.
*Smack!*
Aunt Feng's backhand smacked onto A Jie's back.
The force was so strong it nearly knocked the breath out of him.
"Chest out! Head up! Tuck your stomach! Tighten your hips!"
"On the stage, even if you're dying, you must die beautifully! That's the Red Boat's rule!"
Behind the monitor.
Jiang Wen got so excited he crushed his cigar.
"Cut—!!!"
That yell was soul-stirring.
"Incredible! This dialogue scene is even more intense than an action scene!"
Jiang Wen jumped up and applauded toward the set.
But Jiang Ci didn't goof off like usual.
He still leaned on the waxwood pole, standing in the rain, panting heavily.
That single lift had drained all his strength.
Lin Xiaoman rushed over with a towel, trying to dry him off.
Jiang Ci waved his hand, signaling he didn't need it.
He looked down at the heavy waxwood pole in his hands, his eyes a little unfocused.
He knew that the real hell mode was just beginning.
From here on out, the scenes wouldn't just be about getting beaten.