A Life of Attributes Starting as a Nobleman in the Republic of China Era

Chen Che was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "Master Liu, my master, Sun Congzhou, taught martial arts in Zhabei for twenty years, teaching poor children from the shantytowns. They couldn't afford tuition or find a famous teacher, but they had a heart that wanted to learn martial arts. Director Li set up the martial arts academy to give these people an opportunity."

He paused, looking directly at Liu Yuanding: "The Liu family's kung fu is naturally incomparable to that of unorthodox methods. But for traditional Chinese martial arts to be passed down, it cannot rely solely on aristocratic families. Among the children in the shantytowns, perhaps only one in a hundred has talent, but that one might be the future of traditional Chinese martial arts."

Liu Yuanding stared at him for a while, then suddenly burst into laughter: "What a disciple of Sun Congzhou! Just like him, he's a stubborn stickler for principles."

He stopped laughing, picked up the invitation and looked it over carefully, then nodded: "Go back and tell your master that I, Liu Yuanding, will definitely be there on the fifteenth of next month. I want to see just how big a stage Li Jinglin can set up."

After leaving the Liu family's residence, Chen San let out a long sigh of relief: "Young Master, you really dare to say that. I thought Liu Yuanding was going to turn on me."

Chen Che wiped the sweat from his forehead and said with a wry smile, "I'm nervous too. But there are some things I have to say."

In the days that followed, they visited the Zhao family of Xingyiquan, the Yang family of Taiji, Eagle Claw School, Fanziquan, Chaquan... Each family had its own temperament and its own concerns.

Some opened their doors to welcome guests, while others refused to see them; some were sarcastic and cynical, while others were hospitable and welcoming.

Chen Che remained calm and composed, saying what needed to be said and passing on what needed to be passed on, never forcing anything.

On the eighth day, only one company remained on the list.

Jingwu Athletic Association.

That morning, Chen Che got up very early, changed into a clean long gown, left his tactical baton at home, and only brought the invitation and Chen San.

"Young Master, you're not bringing a stick?" Chen San asked, somewhat surprised.

"The Jingwu Association isn't a martial arts school, it's a sports association," Chen Che said, straightening his clothes. "Bringing a stick isn't appropriate."

The two traveled across most of Shanghai and arrived at the gate of the Jingwu Athletic Association.

This is an impressive Western-style building with a plaque that reads "Jingwu Athletic Association" hanging above the entrance. Two flags flutter in the cold wind on either side. A series of synchronized shouts can be heard from the courtyard, suggesting that dozens of people are practicing martial arts simultaneously.

Chen Che took a deep breath and went to knock on the door.

The door opened, and a young man in a white training uniform poked his head out: "Who are you looking for?"

"Chen Che from the Chen family of Zhabei. He has come to pay a visit on behalf of Li Jinglin, the director of the Central Martial Arts Academy."

The young man sized him up and down, then turned and went inside to report. After a while, a middle-aged man in his fifties came out. He was burly, with a face like a red date, and walked with a steady gait. He was clearly a master who had cultivated both internal and external skills.

"I am Huo Qingyun, the head coach of the Jingwu Sports Association." The man clasped his hands in greeting and said, "Young Master Chen, please come in."

Chen Che followed Huo Qingyun across the playground and saw dozens of young people practicing boxing. Their movements were synchronized and their momentum was overwhelming. On the other side of the playground, several older masters were instructing their disciples, each move meticulously executed.

Huo Qingyun led him into a reception room, poured him tea, and got straight to the point: "Young Master Chen, is your visit today about the Central Martial Arts Academy's recruitment competition?"

"Yes." Chen Che handed over the invitation. "Director Li hopes the Jingwu Association can also participate."

Huo Qingyun took the invitation, but didn't open it. He placed it on the table and remained silent for a moment before saying, "Young Master Chen, let me tell you the truth. The Jingwu Association and the Central Martial Arts Academy are not on the same path."

"Please go ahead, Master Huo."

"The Jingwu Association emphasizes 'not distinguishing between schools, but combining the strengths of all.' We teach boxing, not routines or schools, but only practical skills. The Central Martial Arts Academy, on the other hand, distinguishes between Tai Chi, Bagua, and Xingyi, clearly defining each school. This is quite different from the spirit of the Jingwu Association."

Chen Che nodded: "Master Huo is right. But Director Li said that the National Martial Arts Academy is not here to compete with the Jingwu Association, but to cooperate. We are different in our approach, but we both want to promote Chinese martial arts."

Huo Qingyun looked at him with a complicated expression: "You certainly know how to talk."

He picked up his teacup, took a sip, and suddenly asked an unrelated question: "How is Sun Congzhou doing lately?"

Chen Che was taken aback: "My master is in good health, thank you for your concern, Master Huo."

Huo Qingyun nodded, remained silent for a long time, and finally said, "I've accepted the invitation. As for whether I'll go or not... let me think about it some more."

Chen Che knew this wasn't a refusal, nor an agreement, but rather a reserved stance. He stood up, clasped his hands in a fist and palm salute, and said, "Thank you, Master Huo. Director Li said that regardless of whether the Jingwu Association comes or not, the doors of the National Martial Arts Academy will always be open to them."

Huo Qingyun smiled and said nothing more.

After leaving the Jingwu Association, Chen San couldn't help but ask, "Young Master, what does Huo Qingyun mean by this? He accepted the invitation but didn't give a clear answer."

Chen Che glanced back at the gate of the Jingwu Association and said slowly, "The Jingwu Association has been operating in Shanghai for so many years, with deep roots and flourishing branches. It's not that they're disrespecting us, but they want to see just how sincere Li Jinglin really is."

"What should we do then?"

"What should we do?" Chen Che smiled. "Just wait. By the fifteenth of next month, the stage will be set, the show will begin, and they'll naturally come."

On his way home, it was already dark. Chen Che walked along the small road in Zhabei, looking at the lights shining from the low shantytowns on both sides, and a strange feeling welled up in his heart.

These past few days, he'd visited thirty-six martial arts schools and seven prestigious families, meeting all sorts of people and hearing all sorts of things. Some were enthusiastic, some indifferent, some expectant, some fearful. But whatever their attitude, he could understand them all—

Everyone is watching and waiting.

We'll see what the Central Martial Arts Academy is up to, how determined Li Jinglin really is, and whether this competition is just a show or a formality.

All he could do was deliver the invitations, convey the message, and maintain the correct attitude.

The rest is up to time, and to the fifteenth of next month.

Pushing open the courtyard gate, Sun Congzhou was leaning against the wall drinking tea. Seeing him return, he asked casually, "Have you delivered everything?"

"I've finished delivering." Chen Che sat down opposite his master, took the hot tea that Chen San handed him, and drank it all in one gulp.

"What did they say about the Jingwu Association?"

"I accepted the invitation, but I didn't say whether I'd go or not."

Sun Congzhou nodded, seemingly unsurprised: "Huo Qingyun is a smart man. He knows what he should and shouldn't do."

"Master, you said how many people will actually come on the fifteenth of next month?"

Sun Congzhou glanced at him, but instead of answering directly, he said something seemingly unrelated: "Do you remember what the first question I asked you was when you first came to the Chen family?"

Chen Che paused for a moment, then recalled, "You asked me... why I wanted to learn martial arts."

"So, do you know the answer now?"

Chen Che was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "I used to think that learning martial arts was to become stronger. Later I realized that learning martial arts was to protect something. Now..."

He paused, his gaze hardening: "Now I feel that learning martial arts is to give more people the opportunity to learn it."

Sun Congzhou looked at him, a hint of relief flashing in his eyes. He didn't speak, but simply nodded slightly, then closed his eyes and continued drinking his tea.

Outside the window, the night was deep. In the distance, the lights of the construction site in Zhabei were still on, like lamps that never went out.

Chen Che sat in the courtyard, holding the now-empty list in his hand, but his heart was no longer filled with anxiety.

Next month on the 15th, Shanghai Public Stadium.

No matter how many people come, no matter who they are, this performance must be done well.

For his master, for the Chen family, for the children in the shantytown who are eagerly waiting for him, and for this national martial art that should not be lost.