Chapter 568: Half an Opera Tune Shocks the Red Dust

As soon as this sentence came out, the eyes of most of the guests present looked at the flash of red at the back of the crowd.

Li Hanxiang stroked his beard in the crowd, looking at Chen Ling with a squinting smile. This reminded Chen Ling of when he was a child returning home for the New Year to visit relatives, and while eating, he was called to stand up and perform a program for the relatives. It was said entirely in the posture of a senior.

If one didn't know better, they would think he was truly his elder, kindly giving him a chance to perform.

In the crowd, Huang Suyu's gaze toward Li Hanxiang grew colder.

"Miss, we're in trouble now." Uncle Quan frowned tightly. "With this one sentence, he has drawn everyone's attention to the Special Envoy... The Special Envoy is here to investigate, how would he know how to sing opera?"

"He's courting death!"

Huang Suyu snorted coldly and was about to speak to find a way to help Chen Ling out of the siege, when Chen Ling smiled slightly.

"Alright." Chen Ling held an oil-paper umbrella in the rain, the corners of his mouth curling up involuntarily. "In that case... then I will sing a piece."

Huang Suyu was stunned.

Kong Baosheng was also stunned. He subconsciously pulled Chen Ling's sleeve and whispered, "Sir, that old thing is looking for an opportunity to humiliate you in public... You can't go."

Chen Ling didn't speak, just smiled silently at him, and then held the oil-paper umbrella and walked toward the stage unhurriedly.

……

Boom—

Between the ink-like clouds, bursts of thunder rang out, as if the wrath of the gods was about to descend upon the world.

The sudden, rapid raindrops hit the white canopy. Police Bureau Director Wang Jincheng stood at the edge of the rain curtain, a lit cigarette in his mouth, looking up at the overcast sky, his eyes narrowing slightly:

"[Fusheng Hui] is here... This time, none of you will be able to escape."

He stepped hard on the burnt-out cigarette and walked straight toward the venue.

……

Mu Chunsheng's private residence.

The dark red radiance gradually became brilliant, completely wrapping the old man in the wheelchair, like a wriggling ball of bloody flesh. Bursts of painful screams came from within, as if he were enduring the torture of being skinned and having his bones extracted.

Zhong Qi stood by the door watching this scene, his brow furrowed into a "chuan" shape, his gaze looking at Mu Chunsheng, who was being swallowed by the ball of flesh, nervous and uneasy.

Liuzhua walked slowly to the window, pulled back a corner of the curtain, and glanced at the sky with dark clouds pressing down on the city.

"Damn it... they are about to make a move."

"It's almost done," Feijia said in a deep voice.

"Get ready, be prepared to break out at any time."

……

In the corner of the room.

Inside the exquisite gift box labeled with the three characters "Li Ruohong," a high-yield explosive lay quietly in the darkness, like a fuse capable of detonating everything, silently ignited...

……

Drip—drop—drip—

In the rain, an oil-paper umbrella passed through the crowd silently. All the guests involuntarily cleared a path, watching that flash of bright red opera robe walk slowly onto the grand stage.

【Audience Expectation +3】

The ink-black clouds hung like a massive mountain, pressing down on everyone’s hearts. Even though it was only afternoon, the surroundings were as dim as if night had fallen... The sense of unease and oppression in the crowd grew increasingly intense.

And amidst this suffocating pressure, a flash of vibrant red stood still in the wind and rain, like a streak of mad, unyielding color in a world of absolute repression, like a ferocious beast slowly baring its hideous fangs.

For some reason, everyone’s attention was firmly locked onto that figure in red... as if only by watching him could they remember to breathe under this black sky.

Chen Ling tossed his oil-paper umbrella off the stage and stood quietly in the rain, letting the downpour soak his hair and clothes.

In this world, there has never been a reason to sing opera while holding an umbrella.

Seeing this, Li Hanxiang, standing below the stage, frowned and let out a cold snort, "Pretentious..."

No one noticed Li Hanxiang’s words, for at this moment, everyone’s gaze was fixed on the red-clad figure on stage. They watched as Chen Ling slowly raised his hand in the rain and parted his lips.

The next moment, a melodious and highly piercing operatic voice echoed through the curtain of rain!

"Outside the Spring and Autumn Pavilion, the wind and rain rage; where does the sound of sorrow break the silence?"

"Behind the curtain, I see only a bridal sedan; surely, it is a bride crossing the magpie bridge..."

The moment Chen Ling sang the first line, everyone present trembled slightly, as if struck by an electric shock, suddenly jolted awake from the previous oppression and confusion.

The melodious melody echoed in the rain. With every turn of Chen Ling’s tune, with every word that spilled from his lips, an indescribable feeling welled up in their hearts, as if something inside them had melted, flowing into their limbs with a tingling sensation.

Few of the guests present understood opera, but anyone with ears could tell that Chen Ling’s singing style was completely different from Li Hanxiang’s. Whether it was the timbre, the melody, or the transitions between words, Chen Ling crushed Li Hanxiang... The two performances were worlds apart.

Laymen couldn't pinpoint the technical differences, only knowing that Chen Ling sounded far better than Li Hanxiang, but to the ears of an expert, it was a completely different story.

At this moment, the disdain and mockery on Li Hanxiang’s face gradually froze. He stared blankly at the red figure on stage, his eyes filled with confusion and disbelief.

"Impossible, how is this possible... How old is he? The 'Locking the Unicorn Pouch'... how can he sing it like this?"

In the crowd, Kong Baosheng’s mouth hung open involuntarily, wide enough to fit a goose egg. Although young, his eye for opera was extremely sharp; even the famous stars who had been popular under his grandmother’s wing back in the day might not have sung better than Chen Ling was doing now.

"The Special Envoy... he actually knows how to sing opera??" Uncle Quan was shocked.

No one would have guessed that the Special Envoy who wore a golden mask half a year ago and stirred up the entire main city with a wave of his hand would have such peak-level mastery of the operatic arts. Uncle Quan was a man of the world, but the moment Chen Ling began to sing, every opera he had ever heard before paled in comparison.

Uncle Quan turned to say something to Huang Suyu, but suddenly froze in place.

Beside him, the legendary heiress who had dominated the business world at such a young age stood there like a statue, as if her soul had been snatched away. Her eyes reflected nothing but the figure in red, completely oblivious to everything around her.

Without accompaniment, without backup dancers, that figure in red stood lonely on the stage. As the melody shifted, he flicked his red sleeves lightly, his movements and expressions perfectly fused with the character in the play—sometimes mournful and tearful, sometimes desolate and lonely...

Every move he made, every smile and frown, seemed to possess a certain magic, tugging at everyone’s heartstrings.

Meanwhile.

Outside the manor, the audience members who had finished "listening in" on the performances and were packing up to leave also stopped in their tracks involuntarily.

They looked back into the rain, listening to the melodious operatic singing drifting from within the manor, looking at each other in confusion.

"Who... is that?"