Yao Tai Feng

The setting sun sank into the river, dyeing the thousand-mile Xunyang in blood red.

Xunyang, the foremost city of Jiangzhou, derived its name from being north of the Xun River. Nestled against mountains and embracing water, it boasted scenic spots like Mount Lu and Poyang Lake, earning it the moniker "Mountains by the City, City by the Water, Water within the City."

In the twilight, a master and disciple strolled along the bluestone street of this ancient city.

Zhou Sheng curiously observed everything around him.

Wine flags hung askew, half-curled by the evening breeze. The paulownia wood buildings lining the street, aged and peeling, exuded an even richer aroma of wine.

The dock was a forest of masts, with merchant ships and fishing boats packed tightly together. Wealthy gentry in brocade robes selected delicacies from mountains and seas, while shirtless laborers hauled sacks, their sweat dripping onto the dusty ground.

Suddenly, the pipa music of a singing courtesan drifted from a painted boat. The strings, accompanied by soft Wu dialect, caused the old man selling flatbreads on the shore to falter.

Zhou Sheng took in the bustling street life, a cacophony of sounds filling his ears.

There were the songs of "flowers that understand affairs" from painted boats and pleasure houses, and the curses of gamblers from bustling entertainment districts.

There was the sound of hearty feasting in restaurants, and the chewing of beggars breaking and swallowing moldy bread in dark alleys.

Until a sudden operatic cry erupted.

"I urge the King to drink and listen to Yu's song, to ease his sorrow with a dancing sway. Ying Qin ruled unjustly and broke the empire, heroes rose from all directions to wage war—"

Zhou Sheng's eyebrows shot up. He immediately recognized it as the classic play Farewell My Concubine.

The person singing was Yu Ji. Frankly, her singing was mediocre, her breath unsteady. She was likely not a professional, but that singing style...

His heart stirred.

Because this Yu Ji's singing style broke the traditional, leisurely rhythm of a qingyi role. If he wasn't mistaken, a "Fast Hammer Beat" percussion had been added here, greatly increasing the tension.

In terms of vocalization, it boldly incorporated the rapid vocalizations of Chao Opera and other local opera styles, forming a contrast with Peking Opera's "slow but not sluggish" melodic lines, creating a more impactful performance.

This was no amateurish, forced alteration; it was an ingenious innovation by an insider.

To dare to tamper with such a famous piece as Farewell My Concubine, and to achieve such excellent results, this person's mastery of opera was undoubtedly profound, possessing the demeanor of a grandmaster.

However, when he turned his head, he saw a madman.

The man was barely clothed, his hair disheveled, a paunchy belly protruding. He ran barefoot down the street, singing the lines of Yu Ji from Farewell My Concubine.

The young women and married women on the street immediately covered their eyes in embarrassment and quickly dodged aside.

Zhou Sheng's pupils contracted. His dharma eye blazed like a torch. He saw a dense Yin energy emanating from the madman. The three Yang fires on his shoulders flickered weakly under the onslaught of Yin energy, on the verge of extinguishing.

Had this person slept in a mass grave for a night?

Even a mass grave wouldn't have such heavy Yin energy. Was he possessed by a fierce ghost?

Zhou Sheng channeled his Magic Power into his eyes. His gaze instantly became exceptionally bright, penetrating in all directions, seeing through every wisp of Yin energy on the man.

One, two, three...

Zhou Sheng was suddenly startled. The Yin energy on this person actually came from different ghostly entities, and there were as many as a hundred or eighty!

Had he stumbled into a ghost's nest?

Fortunately, the man had only been tainted by the Yin energy of various ghosts, not targeted by a swarm of them. Otherwise, he wouldn't have survived this long.

"Isn't that Old Third Zhou?"

"He's having an episode again. How many times has this happened?"

"He really seems to have run into something unclean, like he's possessed. Do you think he actually... went to Gathering Immortals Tower to watch a play?"

"Shh! Don't talk nonsense. That fire back then, how many people died at Gathering Immortals Tower? They couldn't even piece together a whole corpse from the entire opera troupe!"

Hearing the surrounding discussions, Zhou Sheng's gaze shifted. He glanced at his master, who showed no reaction, and pondered.

The next moment, the madman was almost upon them.

Zhou Sheng stepped forward. Seeing his master make no move to stop him, he suddenly raised his eyes, channeling a large amount of Magic Power, causing his round pupils to subtly shift into a square shape.

In an instant, his gaze was as bright as lightning, like a sharp sword capable of piercing everything, meeting the madman's eyes.

BOOM!

The madman felt as if a thunderbolt had struck his mind, illuminating his dark sea of consciousness. He heard piercing screams in his ears.

Divine eyes like lightning, expelling evil and purifying filth!

Following that, the madman suddenly froze, then collapsed with a thud, as if falling into a deep sleep.

Just then, the people chasing him arrived, likely his relatives. They quickly apologized to passersby, draped their clothes over him, and carried him away.

From beginning to end, Zhou Sheng didn't utter a word, nor was he discovered by anyone, yet he had already helped the man break free from the Yin energy.

The simple dharma eye alone did not possess such power. Zhou Sheng had combined it with the Thunderous Wrath Technique from the Spirit Official opera, thus achieving such astonishing might.

As his master had said, after opening his aperture of the eye, the eye technique he had diligently practiced since childhood finally found its true purpose.

"Master, that opera segment he sang just now—"

"The opera was well adapted, but it won't fill our stomachs. We've walked for so long, let's go to a restaurant first."

Yu Zhensheng strode forward with long, powerful strides, not showing the slightest sign of his leg ailment. He seemed completely at ease with his surroundings, as if he had lived in Xunyang City for a very long time.

Before long, the two arrived at a magnificent restaurant.

After paying with a few pieces of silver, they ordered a lavish meal with over a dozen dishes, a perfect balance of meat and vegetables, all appealing in color, aroma, and taste.

Zhou Sheng, who had been starving, ate with gusto, devouring the food like a whirlwind, as if he could even chew and swallow the chicken bones.

His Master, however, maintained his refined demeanor, sipping a pot of Mount Lu Cloud Mist Tea and eating at a leisurely pace. He deliberately avoided the dishes Zhou Sheng favored, only picking up his chopsticks after Zhou Sheng had finished eating.

Elegant, composed, and possessing an extraordinary presence.

At this moment, he seemed like a completely different person from the one who had pointed a spear at the Judge, the fierce and imposing Ghost Opera Performer, Yu Zhensheng.

"After eating so much greasy food, one must savor this Mount Lu Cloud Mist Tea; it's the best for cutting through the richness."

Yu Zhensheng poured his disciple a cup of tea, gazing at the green foam, a hint of memory flashing in his eyes.

"When it comes to the skill of brewing tea, that girl is second to none in the entire Jiangzhou. After all these years, I truly miss that taste."

Zhou Sheng looked up and asked curiously, "Master, are you referring to my senior sister?"

He was becoming increasingly curious about his senior sister. According to his Master, besides being a skilled opera performer, she also possessed the supreme art of tea brewing?

A guess began to form in his mind: his mysterious senior sister must be a Ghost Opera Performer who had successfully graduated and perhaps was already independent, leading her own troupe.

This was likely why his Master had brought him to Xunyang, intending for him to perform in his senior sister's opera troupe.

Yu Zhensheng merely glanced at Zhou Sheng, smiling without speaking.

Just then, with a clap of the startling hall wood, the storyteller in the restaurant officially began his tale, recounting the Chu-Han contention, the story of Xiang Yu and Liu Bang.

The storyteller possessed remarkable vocal skills and could imitate sounds, such as the neighing of warhorses or the clash of weapons.

His narration was full of twists and turns, passionate and stirring.

"It is said that during the Chu-Han contention, the Overlord was trapped in 'Ambush from Ten Sides.' The Wujiang River was cold, the sound of Chu songs mournful. All eight thousand of his soldiers were lost, leaving only Xiang Yu on his horse, his armor stained with blood..."

"And Lady Yu, her hair disheveled, tears in her eyes, holding a sharp sword in her embrace. Ladies and gentlemen, why do you think she came with a sword?"

The startling hall wood clapped again!

"It turns out Lady Yu knew the tide had turned. She was about to perform her final dance for the Overlord, and then her sword light traced a circle around her neck..."

"Truly, to this day, the Wujiang River still weeps for the scent of beauty beneath the sword!"

At this point, the storyteller lightly tapped his copper bowl to signal the end. A little girl, about seven or eight years old, then came around with a worn basin, collecting tips.

Seeing this, Zhou Sheng felt a pang in his heart, reminding him of Uncle Xu and Cui Cui.

He took out an ounce of silver and placed it in the basin.

Instantly, the little girl's eyes lit up, her sallow face breaking into an uncontrollable smile as she bowed repeatedly.

"Thank you, sir! Thank you, sir!"

"You're welcome. You earn your living with your skills; this is what you deserve."

Zhou Sheng helped her up, patted her head, and said each word clearly.

The little girl was taken aback, her eyes seeming touched.

At this moment, the old storyteller also bowed to Zhou Sheng, smiling, "Your praise means a great deal, sir. I am deeply grateful. How about this, do you have a story you'd like to hear? I'll tell it to you right now."

Zhou Sheng thought for a moment and said, "Please tell me, sir, who is the best performer of Lady Yu in the opera troupes of Xunyang City?"

The storyteller was taken aback, then quickly replied, "Are you interested in opera, young sir? Then you've come to the right person!"

"There are three actresses in Xunyang City who are skilled at playing Lady Yu: Wan Yunyan of the Four Seas Troupe, unmatched in her stage presence; Shui Linglong of Jade Full Tower, with the most beautiful singing voice; and Xinghuatian from Thirty Li Village, west of the city, who excels at sword dancing. All three are masters, each with their own strengths!"

"Anyone else?"

Zhou Sheng continued to ask.

"There was..."

The storyteller pondered for a moment, his lips trembling slightly as if he had recalled something.

"I do recall a place, but sadly, it was burned down long ago. Alas, it's a shame about the one who was there."

He sighed deeply, saying, "If Miss Yao Tai Feng were still alive, the three I just mentioned would probably not dare to sing Lady Yu in their lifetime."

A ripple of emotion crossed Zhou Sheng's eyes, and he continued to ask, "No one in the entire Xunyang City could compare?"

"Heh heh, let alone Xunyang City, at that time, no one in the entire Jiangzhou could compare to her!"

"What was her name?"

The storyteller's eyes showed nostalgia and respect, his voice trembling slightly, clearly not calm within.

"She was the top Dan actor of Jiangzhou eighteen years ago, the 'Pillar supporting the sky, a golden beam upholding the sea' of Gathering Immortals Tower--Yao Tai Feng!"