Chapter 122 - 104: Performance for the Gods

Chapter 122: Chapter 104: Performance for the Gods

Soon, the news that the Immortal, Chen Ye, would be performing an offertory opera at the General Temple on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival spread like wildfire throughout Sea Guardian Guard.

From teahouses and restaurants to street corners and alleyways, everyone was talking about it.

"Have you heard? Boss Chen is going to perform in the offertory opera!"

"How is that possible? The offertory opera at the General Temple is always the highlight for Martial Artist and old man roles. Boss Chen performs as a Cyan Robe Huadan. This... can he really pull it off?"

In an instant, amazement, doubt, curiosity... all sorts of emotions began to brew among the public.

Meanwhile, inside the Qingchun Troupe, the atmosphere was graver than ever before.

Guan Sihai treated this performance with the utmost importance. He knew this wasn’t just a play—it was the key to whether the Qingchun Troupe could truly establish a foothold in Sea Guardian Guard, and perhaps even reach for greater heights.

If they failed, not only would Chen Ye’s reputation suffer, but the entire Qingchun Troupe would become the laughingstock of the Peach Garden Lineage.

So, he personally supervised rehearsals every day, meticulously critiquing every supporting actor’s singing and movements. The slightest misstep was met with a torrent of scathing criticism.

All the brothers in the Opera Troupe were on edge, a mix of excitement and anxiety.

Just as the entire city of Sea Guardian Guard eagerly awaited the upcoming offertory opera, a train from Pingjing pulled slowly into the station, its whistle blowing a long, drawn-out note.

The door to a first-class carriage opened, and a young man stepped out, flanked by several bodyguards in black suits.

The young man wore an expensive, impeccably tailored suit. He was handsome, with skin so fair it was almost sickly, but a persistent, cold, and effeminate indifference emanated from his narrow, phoenix-like eyes.

He was none other than Yan Xun, Li Kang’s true backer and a scion of the Yan Family, one of the most powerful Noble Families in Pingjing.

A subordinate quickly stepped forward and whispered something in his ear.

"Li Kang went mad on the spot after watching a play at the Guangle Building. He died seven days later, his body completely putrefied. It was a gruesome death. We’ve investigated. The Lu Family and Qi Shihao of the Six Gates both took action against him, but there seems to be something else behind Li Kang’s death."

As Yan Xun listened to the report, his face showed no trace of anger or sorrow. Instead, a contemplative smile played on his lips.

"A dog I’ve raised for three years, discarded just like that. How amusing."

He wiped his fingers with a silk handkerchief. His voice was gentle, yet it sent a chill down the spine. "I’d like to see who in this tiny little Sea Guardian Guard has the gall to touch someone who belongs to me, Yan Xun."

"Young Master, all the clues point to an actor at the Guangle Building named Chen Ye. His nickname is the ’Immortal’."

"Immortal?" Yan Xun scoffed, his eyes dripping with contempt.

He was a seasoned opera aficionado himself. In Pingjing, he had seen only the most celebrated masters—the likes of the "Thirteen Greats" and the "Four Great Dan"—all figures of national renown.

’And someone in this backwater town dared to call himself an Immortal?’

’What laughable arrogance. They have no idea how high the heavens are.’

Yan Xun and his entourage checked directly into Sea Guardian Guard’s most luxurious hotel.

What began to annoy him, however, was that everywhere he went—from the lobby to the restaurant, from the hotel manager to the waiters, and even the guests at the neighboring tables—everyone was muttering the same name.

The Immortal, Chen Ye.

And that upcoming offertory opera at the General Temple.

This pervasive fervor offended his sense of superiority, born of his life in the capital. At the same time, it piqued a defiant sort of curiosity.

’I’ll see for myself what’s so special about this backwoods actor.’

「Soon, the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival arrived.」

The area in front of the General Temple was already a sea of people, but unlike the usual hustle and bustle, the atmosphere was solemn and reverent.

The citizens of Sea Guardian Guard were packed tightly beneath the tall, temporary stage erected in the temple square.

In the surrounding restaurants and teahouses, every table with a view of the stage was occupied.

Mr. Lu, Qi Shihao, and the other prominent figures of Sea Guardian Guard had all arrived. Lu Jinghong sat beside her father, her delicate hands clenched around the hem of her dress, her palms sweating as she gazed anxiously at the stage.

Meanwhile, in a private room with a perfect view directly facing the stage, Yan Xun listlessly fanned himself with an ivory folding fan, his eyes filled with a critical, scrutinizing gaze, ready to watch a farce unfold.

GONG—! CLANG!

The sharp crack of a gong pierced the night sky.

With a great rumble, the main curtain was drawn.

There was no elaborate set, only a bleak, dusky yellow haze.

Chen Ye, as General Qin, stood motionless at the center of the stage, clad in unadorned armor.

He wore no heavy, colorful face paint; only a few symbolic lines were drawn on his handsome face. Yet when he raised his eyes and gazed upon the audience, everyone felt their hearts seize.

What kind of eyes were those!

They held the grim resolve of war, the fortitude of a man defending his nation, and deeper still, a desolate sorrow misunderstood by the world.

An aura of heroic loyalty, unyielding fortitude, and tragic grandeur descended like an invisible mountain, pressing down upon the hearts of everyone present.

In that moment, the breathing of the thousands in the square seemed to cease.

In the private room, the frivolous smile on Yan Xun’s face stiffened.

The ivory folding fan in his hand froze in mid-air.

"I remember those years... clashing iron, charging steeds, a spirit that devoured a thousand miles like a tiger..."

The moment Chen Ye began to sing, his voice, though not high-pitched, seemed to possess a strange Magic Power. It pierced everyone’s eardrums and resounded deep within their very souls.

VMMMM!

Every person in the audience, including Yan Xun on the second floor, felt their vision swim. Yan Xun’s ivory folding fan fell to the ground with a CLATTER, but he remained completely oblivious.

They were no longer an audience before the General Temple.

The sharp whistle of arrows cutting through the air filled their ears, and the thick stench of blood and gunpowder filled their nostrils.

They seemed to be standing on a desolate frontier battlefield, sand swirling in the air, watching with their own eyes as General Qin led his exhausted army to beat back the tide-like waves of sea bandits, time and time again.

Then the scene shifted.

In the oppressive, somber throne room, they became courtiers watching from the sidelines, feeling the insidious treachery of corrupt officials and the cold, suspicious gaze of the emperor upon the Throne.

Everyone had been dragged into this incredibly realistic Illusion Realm, built entirely from the opera.

Their blood boiled at the General’s glorious victories; they despaired in grief and indignation at the injustice he suffered; they wept with frustration as his loyalty was met only with slander.

They forgot who they were and where they were, completely immersed in the General’s magnificent yet heartbreaking life.

On the stage, Chen Ye was the wronged General.

Below the stage, the audience was the silent masses.

Finally, the story reached its climax: the execution.

Chen Ye’s General Qin, though shackled and blood-soaked, still held his head high. He offered no defense. He simply raised his head and, with eyes burning with infinite resentment and unwillingness, stared fixedly toward the intangible direction of the Capital City.

"Let heaven and earth be my witness! Let the sun and moon be my judge! I, Qin Lie, have served my nation with loyalty! What crime have I committed?!"

"If the ruler demands his subject’s death, the subject has no choice but to die..."

"I... am... not... re... signed!"

The final four words seemed to burst from Chen Ye’s very chest, one by one. His voice was hoarse and tragic, filled with an Ultimate challenge to the injustice of the world.

The very instant that roar tore through the night sky!

BOOM—!

A bolt of lightning suddenly split the night sky, followed by an earth-shattering crack of thunder that boomed across the heavens!

Immediately after, a bone-chilling autumn rain, carried on a gale, began to pour from the sky.