Fierce Zhang Fei

This black jar closely resembled the legendary Ghost Raising Altar or Yin Gathering Jar. It had been fired from ancient grave soil and old kiln clay, heavy with yin energy and highly alluring to ghosts.

But it actually concealed a hidden mystery.

The jar's inner walls were hollow, with talismans for suppressing ghosts and warding off evil buried inside. Its bottom was covered with a layer of special incense ash.

It was ash from the incense burner of Great Emperor Huaguang, the patriarch worshipped by the Yin Opera lineage.

Once a ghost entered the jar, it would be like a moth flying into flame or snow meeting boiling broth. No matter how great its resentment, more than half would disperse. Zhou Sheng only needed to seal the mouth of the jar to suppress it completely.

Whether to destroy it or deliver it from suffering afterward would depend on a single thought.

He had captured quite a few Fierce Ghosts with this method. Though Shen Jinhua's resentment was profound, Zhou Sheng believed she could not see through his Lord Bao Play.

The facts matched his prediction. Shen Jinhua's departed soul slowly peeled away from the woman's body and surged toward the jar.

But just as success was within reach, an unexpected change occurred.

A great deal of dark-red blood suddenly flowed from between the woman's thighs, carrying a powerful stench. Vaguely formed chunks of flesh could even be seen within it.

This was different from the blood that flowed from the female ghost's eyes or neck. That blood was an illusion formed by condensed resentment in the eyes of the living, whereas this blood was real.

Zhou Sheng's heart jolted, and he secretly thought that things were bad.

Menstrual blood?

No, it was not menstrual blood. This Green-Robed Actress playing the female ghost... was actually pregnant!

She was carrying a child, though it had not been long—perhaps only one or two months. She might not even have known herself.

After playing a female ghost onstage for so long, her strength had already been depleted. Then she had been possessed by a Fierce Ghost, yin energy gnawing into her bones. The life growing inside her suffered a catastrophic blow.

Dying before it was even born would naturally generate resentment. With that resentment strengthening her, Shen Jinhua, who possessed the woman, would likely see through the Lord Bao he was playing!

Sure enough, the departed soul that had nearly left the body instantly shrank back into the woman. She suddenly raised her eyes, churning like a pool of blood, and stared fixedly at the crescent moon on Lord Bao's forehead.

The candle flames that had been bright around them began to flicker again. The yin wind surged, making the doors and windows creak and groan.

At this moment, she finally saw clearly.

The crescent moon was properly placed, but it had been painted on.

"Fake Lord Bao, you dare deceive—ah!!!"

Before the female ghost could finish, Zhou Sheng struck first. He lifted the black jar and flung it fiercely, scattering the incense ash at the bottom over the female ghost.

In an instant, it was like ice and snow melting away. To the female ghost, every grain of incense ash was like molten fire, burning away her yin energy until sparks covered her entire body.

And at that very moment, Zhou Sheng's gaze suddenly changed.

Gone was the righteous air of an iron-faced, impartial judge. In its place was the killing intent of tiger eyes glaring wide, as though a volcano lay hidden in his chest, erupting with a thunderous boom and spewing from his eyes.

At the same time, he swiftly raised his sleeve to cover his face. When the sleeve fell again, the Lord Bao face paint had vanished, replaced by an entirely new mask.

Round eyes stared wide as bronze bells, twin brows curled skyward like inverted flames.

A tiger nose and leopard mouth bared fangs, his voice like thunderbolts shaking rivers and mountains!

Opera had a supreme technique called face-changing. A performer could change face paint and bearing in an instant, drawing thunderous applause from the hall.

What Zhou Sheng used now was precisely this technique. But unlike ordinary people, he changed not only his face—every muscle and bone in his body also erupted with crackling blasts.

In the span of a breath, he became a towering giant of a man, like an iron pagoda.

He fiercely shoved up his beard with both hands, lifted his head high, puffed out his chest, and suddenly exerted force through his neck. Veins bulged one after another.

"Halt!!! You villain, do not run wild! Zhang Yide of Yan is here!"

Marquis Huan Zhang Fei, Zhang Yide!

With one roar at Changban Bridge, he frightened away Cao Cao's million troops.

Zhang Fei's roar possessed soul-shaking, heaven-splitting power. It could even kill a man alive through sheer vibration—tyrannical beyond measure.

In opera, the Yan Man's Roar was not merely a loud voice, but a meticulously refined Sound Fiend.

One had to open the voice with a tiger's tone, violently thrusting breath from the Dantian to batter the vocal cords and chest cavity, unleashing a piercing explosive sound. It was like a muffled thunderclap exploding in midair, making eardrums buzz and hearts, livers, and gallbladders tremble!

Zhou Sheng's roar truly seemed as though Marquis Huan had descended upon him. It carried the force to shake ten thousand miles and swallow mountains and rivers, jolting the entire opera troupe. Everyone else's legs went weak; their faces turned pale as they collapsed to the ground.

The female ghost had already been badly wounded by the incense ash. Under that roar, her soul was struck as if by a heavy blow and was directly shaken from the body she possessed.

The others could only feel a chilling yin wind sweep past, unable to see Shen Jinhua's departed soul. Only Zhou Sheng, playing Zhang Fei, could vaguely glimpse a ghostly shadow.

That was enough.

His eyes were like bronze bells, killing intent rolling around him. He had already resolved to beat this ghost to death completely!

She refused a toast only to drink a forfeit!

With Marquis Huan upon him, how could he enjoy himself without killing to his heart's content?

He had clearly entered the role. His murderous nature and Baleful Intent were like fierce flames fed with oil, demanding release.

Just then, Master Wu gave him excellent support.

He took the Eighteen-Foot Serpent Spear from backstage and hurled it toward Zhou Sheng with all his strength, shouting, "Marquis Huan, catch your spear!"

Though he clearly knew that the Marquis Huan onstage was fake, the words "Marquis Huan" still escaped his lips instinctively.

It was as though the man before him had truly emerged from the rolling smoke and dust of Changban Slope, holding the pass alone against ten thousand.

Zhou Sheng stamped on the stage boards as if mountains were crumbling and earth was splitting. His body leaped up like a black tiger pouncing on prey, twisting through the air. The instant he landed, his legs snapped upward again like reversed steel whips.

A black dragon coiling around a pillar gathered power, and a kite flipped over to settle his form.

At the same time, his tiger claws exerted force, five fingers hooked like talons as he snatched through the air with the Sea-Probing stance.

Buzz!

The black Snake Spear trembled and hummed in his palm. He twisted around, turned his head, and glared at the enemy formation, his round eyes seemingly about to split, his bristling beard exploding outward, the spearhead like a Flood Dragon flicking its tongue.

This sequence fused the tiger pounce, pillar coil, kite flip, sea probe, and mud-stomping spear-lift of opera's Blanket Skill and physical forms. Pounce, flip, spin, and settle—all happened in the time it took a spark to flash from flint!

Such dazzling skill left Xiao Shan, the Martial Actor, dumbfounded.

"Villain, take your grandpa's spear!"

With the Snake Spear in hand, Zhou Sheng's killing intent swelled to its peak. His steps boomed like drums as he charged straight at the female ghost, Shen Jinhua.

Boom!

The Snake Spear flashed like a thunderbolt, grazing past Xiao Shan's eye before burying itself deep in a nearby stage pillar. Cracks spread out like a spiderweb.

The surging wind from the spear scattered Xiao Shan's hair. Through that sharp, fearsome weapon, he seemed to see a bloody female figure.

Just now... Sister Jin wanted to possess me?

"Villain, do not flee!"

Zhou Sheng roared again, immediately yanking out the spear and giving chase. The Snake Spear danced in his hands, its techniques fierce and tyrannical, swift as racing thunder. Every move carried the bearing of a battle-hardened tiger general.

Though the others could not see Shen Jinhua's departed soul, they could hear panicked, drifting cries continuously sounding through the air, as though she were fleeing for her life in utter disarray.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

There were no drums, yet Zhou Sheng's steps were like war drums, shaking the entire stage without cease.

But the female ghost was simply too fast, narrowly escaping beneath the Snake Spear time and again.

"Waaah-yah-yah-yah-yah—!"

Unable to land a blow for so long, Zhou Sheng's murderous nature and Baleful Intent grew heavier and heavier. Like a tiger general fighting bare-chested on the battlefield, he had fought out his bloodlust and stirred his hidden potential.

Accompanied by roars like raging waves, flashing lightning, and crashing thunder, the Snake Spear in his hands grew faster and fiercer.

Wherever the female ghost fled, the Snake Spear arrived in an instant. Everything that stood in its path was smashed apart with a single thrust.

The female ghost tried to use solid objects to hide, but whether beams of wood or stone walls, everything seemed like paper paste before that terrifying Snake Spear.

Wood and stone fragments sprayed everywhere, streaking through the air like hidden weapons.

Anything that stood in its way shattered!

On the eighty-first thrust, Zhou Sheng felt thunder explode within his mind. His whole being seemed to enter a state of utter self-forgetfulness.

At that moment, he forgot who he was, forgot who the enemy before him was, and even forgot where he was.

He knew only that his name was Zhang Fei, courtesy name Yide; that he had sworn the Oath of the Peach Garden; that on the battlefield, he was the match of ten thousand men!

Unity of Person and Role.

"Halt!!!"

The furious roar seemed to echo from Changban Bridge a thousand years ago.

Its roar shattered a thousand layers of blue-stone waves; its shout severed the waters of the nine-bend Yellow River!

The yin energy around the female ghost shuddered, and her body stiffened for an instant, as if struck by lightning.

Then an icy-black Eighteen-Foot Serpent Spear pierced through her soul body, nailing her alive to the wall.

The Baleful Intent of that tiger general from ages past scorched Shen Jinhua's departed soul through the Snake Spear like blazing fire, making her release an incomparably shrill scream.

Her yin energy transformed into drops of black blood that flowed continuously down the Snake Spear, darkening and chilling the two blood grooves even further.

She struggled desperately, her expression twisted as she shouted something. But Zhou Sheng's eyes burned like fire, his Baleful Intent piercing the skies, and he paid her no heed at all.

A moment later, this Fierce Ghost of the opera troupe finally vanished like smoke and scattered like ashes.

Everyone stared blankly at that figure standing unyielding like an iron pagoda.

Perhaps because his blood and qi were too violently stirred, wisps of mist like thin smoke curled and steamed around him. Flesh and blood became a furnace, radiating invisible waves of heat.

This scene was also deeply branded into their hearts.

It truly was:

On the opera stage, fierce Zhang Fei, tiger general supreme; with eighty-one thrusts, he slew ghosts and gods!