Practicing Skills

"Ee--"

"Yaa--!"

The sky was still dark, but by the Pear Blossom River, sounds of chanting could already be heard. A tall, handsome young man was practicing his vocalizations by the river.

This practice of shouting and vocalizing was a habit every opera singer had to cultivate from childhood. They usually woke up early to go to places with water or low-lying areas where few people were, so as not to disturb others.

Therefore, since Zhou Sheng began learning Ghost Opera at the age of five, he had never slept in again.

After he finished his practice, the sun had just begun to show a hint of red. His throat was completely open, and his vocal cords vibrated with a round, clear tone, like pearls scattering on a jade plate.

Immediately after, Zhou Sheng fetched two buckets of water and headed home against the rising sun.

Figures were already appearing on the road. When they saw Zhou Sheng, they immediately greeted him familiarly and warmly, as if looking at their own nephew.

The shopkeeper gave him a corn, the neighbor offered a cucumber, and someone even insisted on giving him a string of chili peppers.

It seemed as if he wasn't an opera performer, but a beggar.

Zhou Sheng settled in Qinggu County with his master when he was twelve years old. He had lived there for nine years. Although it was a remote place, the local customs were simple and honest. The neighbors looked out for each other, and it was quite harmonious.

For the handsome and well-built Zhou Sheng, many families with daughters of marriageable age were very enthusiastic about him.

By the time he returned home, the sun had fully risen. The morning sun was high in the sky, and the dawn filled the heavens.

The first thing Zhou Sheng did was change the water in the fish tank.

This water wasn't for drinking, but for a goldfish.

"Brother Fish, here's your water!"

Zhou Sheng petted the goldfish and then began to pour out the water.

In his memory, wherever his master went, he would first find a fish tank to keep this goldfish. His master had always been stingy with praise for Zhou Sheng, often wearing a stern face, but he cherished this fish dearly, making Zhou Sheng change its water every day.

This led Zhou Sheng to call it 'Brother Fish'.

Brother Fish was indeed extraordinary. Ordinary goldfish could only live for six or seven years, but this one had lived for over ten years and was still lively and kicking.

His master said it was a feng shui fish that could attract wealth. He instructed Zhou Sheng to take good care of the goldfish no matter what, and absolutely not to move the fish tank's position.

After changing the water, under his master's supervision, he began to practice Blanket Skill.

Blanket Skill didn't refer to performing with a blanket, but rather that the movements practiced were so dangerous that a thick blanket had to be laid down for protection.

On that very old, washed-out blanket, Zhou Sheng began to practice various opera movements.

Headstand, backbend, Tiger Leap, Cloud Front Flip...

On the blanket, which was only about three feet wide, he dodged and weaved as nimbly as a rabbit leaping and a falcon swooping. He completed one difficult move after another with the fluidity of flowing water.

Agile as a dragon, fierce as a tiger, fast as a leopard, light as a cat.

Beside him, Yu Zhensheng watched with cold eyes, rapidly spinning a few pebbles in his hand, producing a grating sound that created an invisible pressure on Zhou Sheng.

Whoosh!

Whenever he lost focus for even a moment, a pebble would fly towards him, precisely striking his vital acupoints like a hidden weapon.

If he could dodge it, it was fine. If not, his body would instantly lose balance and he would crash down heavily.

Just like now.

Zhou Sheng was performing a backward tiger leap. Because he had been practicing for half an hour continuously, even with his physique, he felt fatigued, and his focus wavered slightly.

The result was a pebble flying towards him, as fast as lightning, hitting the Mingmen Acupoint on his lumbar spine.

Thump!

Zhou Sheng fell straight onto the blanket, his lower back aching faintly. He knew without looking that it was already bruised.

He had thought that with his improved Dao cultivation, he would be able to dodge his master's 'hidden weapons' by now. He hadn't expected that his master's pebbles would become even faster.

That silent yet thunderously fast hidden weapon technique was undoubtedly a rare treasure in the martial world.

"Get up, continue practicing!"

Yu Zhensheng's voice was forceful and merciless.

"When performing Ghost Opera, a moment of distraction could lead to a fate worse than death!"

"Remember, those eyes staring at you from below the stage..."

"Are not all human!"

Zhou Sheng rose immediately without any complaint and practiced diligently.

Finally, he was so exhausted that he collapsed, falling a total of seven times. His body was covered in bruises, but Yu Zhensheng only nodded with satisfaction, without uttering a single word of praise.

"Blanket Skill is done. Next, we practice Eye Technique."

So, Zhou Sheng had to drag his weary body up and begin staring at a pigeon coop twenty feet away...

And so, the morning passed.

Lunch was as sumptuous as ever: a roasted goose, two pounds of braised beef, a large pork knuckle, white rice, and ginseng and black chicken soup.

There was also a pot of fine wine, but Yu Zhensheng drank it himself, forbidding Zhou Sheng from touching even a drop.

In his words, alcohol would affect his voice, and to sing opera, it was best to abstain from drinking.

Zhou Sheng finished lunch almost ravenously, like a whirlwind devouring clouds, while Yu Zhensheng was the opposite, his movements refined, his demeanor calm, even the way he poured wine and picked up chopsticks exuded elegance.

In his memory, even when the master and disciple had been starving for a long time and suddenly received a sumptuous meal, the master was always unhurried and elegant.

It was a bearing etched into his very bones.

Zhou Sheng wiped his mouth, wanting to seize the opportunity to chat with his master.

"Master, about graduating—"

Yu Zhensheng glared at him and tapped his head with his chopsticks.

"After eating, what should you do? Do I still need to teach you that?"

Zhou Sheng could only nod, then got up and walked under a willow tree, assuming the Primordial Basket-Lifting Stance from Lan Caihe's Twelve Forms of Guidance.

Practicing guidance exercises after a meal could better aid digestion and increase strength.

Yu Zhensheng, on the other hand, walked to the water tank to tease the goldfish he favored.

At Weishi (1-3 PM), they began discussing and practicing opera.

Bao Qingtian, Beating the Dragon Robe, Reed Marsh, Locking the Five Dragons...

"Of the four elements of opera: singing, speaking, acting, and martial arts, the 'singing' part emphasizes vocal training. As the saying goes, 'Master the Dantian's breath, and you can conquer the world.'"

"Remember, the breath control for a long sustained note in the middle of a passage is predetermined; you can't just change your breath or steal air!"

"Before a big vocal flourish, take a deep, long breath, so that the subsequent flourish can be full and resonant!"

Yu Zhensheng's attitude was extremely strict. He was not impatient, and although he would hit Zhou Sheng with a stick every time he made a mistake, his voice was always calm and unhurried, patiently repeating things many times.

By the end of the day, Zhou Sheng would often be covered in bruises, but he was grateful to his master.

There was a saying in the opera circles: "Better to give ten acres of land than teach one line of opera."

Yet, when his master taught him, he held nothing back, shared all his knowledge, and seemed eager to pass on all his experience and skills.

Meeting such a strict master was his good fortune.

He was not only a strict master but also a 'kind father' who wasn't good at expressing himself.

After dinner, the master told Zhou Sheng to take off his shirt and lie down on the stone table in the courtyard, which had long been polished to a mirror-like smoothness.

The master rubbed his palms warm and applied medicinal oil to him, repeatedly massaging his muscles and promoting blood circulation, especially on the injured areas.

The massage technique allowed the carefully formulated medicinal oil to penetrate deeper into the flesh, strengthening bones and tendons.

This massage lasted for a full hour.

And it had been sixteen years.

"Master, I've been working so hard. Can't you just say a word of praise for me once in a while?"

Zhou Sheng asked, half-jokingly.

Yu Zhensheng, sweating and breathing heavily, his snow-white silver hair fluttering in the wind, sneered at his words. "Are you a three-year-old child, needing praise at your age?"

"Master, why did you lie to me, saying I wouldn't graduate until I was twenty-one? Trading your life for my three years, was it worth it?"

Yu Zhensheng's hand paused slightly, then he said indifferently, "That old fox Lu Bingyuan lied to you. I said twenty-one, and it's twenty-one."

"Master..."

Time quietly slipped away, and the sound of snoring gradually filled the courtyard.

Zhou Sheng had fallen asleep at some point.

Only then did Yu Zhensheng's gaze soften. He looked at the scars on his disciple's body and sighed softly.

"When I found you, you were only five years old, like a dirty puppy."

"I never thought you'd become such an outstanding Ghost Opera Performer now."

"Regarding the matter in Yangcheng, if it were me in my youth, I definitely wouldn't have handled it as well as you..."

"You've done very well."

Only when his disciple was asleep did he seem to be able to drop his mask and offer genuine praise, even then, his voice was barely audible, like a mosquito's hum.

"Master, you can praise people too!"

Suddenly, Zhou Sheng opened his eyes and said with a smile.

He had been pretending to sleep.

In an instant, Yu Zhensheng felt as if he had been struck by lightning. For the first time, he lost his elegant demeanor, freezing in place like a statue.

Then, his face turned red at a visible speed, his toes digging into his shoes.

"You... you ungrateful disciple!"

"I'll beat you to death!!!"

A moment later, screams echoed through the courtyard, lingering for a long time.