Chinese martial arts: From being shot and killed by the armed police during a mountain search to bec

The hall door was suddenly pushed open from the outside.

"Yosh! Looks like everyone's here!"

That Japanese word was as abrupt as a knife, cutting into the still-lingering somber atmosphere of the main hall.

All the martial arts masters turned around at once. The doors of Hong Sheng Hall had been pushed open at some point, and a group of Japanese men swaggered in.

Leading the group was a middle-aged man in a black kimono and wooden clogs, holding a folding fan and wearing a half-smile. Behind him were seven or eight people, some in suits, some in judo uniforms, and two with samurai swords at their waists.

Several disciples of the Hong Sheng Kung Fu school stood by and put their hands on the other party's shoulders, but the Japanese men in judo uniforms easily shook them off.

"Beng し" in judo means breaking momentum.

Chen Hongwu glanced over and saw that the middle-aged man at the front had short, thick fingers, calluses on his hands and feet as thick as coins, and when he walked, he would land on the balls of his feet first, grip the ground with his toes, and always keep his center of gravity in his groin.

Karate, Tang Shou.

Chen Hongwu put down his teacup.

Karate originated from Tang Shou, which itself originated in China. During the late Ming and early Qing dynasties, the King of Ryukyu sent envoys to China to learn martial arts, bringing back Fujian White Crane Fist and Fuzhou Crane Fist to Ryukyu. These martial arts styles were then integrated with local martial arts and evolved into "Tang Shou".

After the Meiji Restoration, Japan annexed Ryukyu, and Tang Shou (a type of Japanese hand gesture) was introduced to mainland Japan. It also absorbed some techniques from Japanese Jujutsu and gradually developed into today's Karate.

The martial arts instructors inside the hall stood up in a flurry and surged forward.

The practitioners of Hung Kuen, Choy Li Fut, Pak Mei Fist, Hsia Ka Fist, and Wing Chun, who were just vying for supremacy on the stage and competing against each other offstage, are now standing together in one place.

Martial arts schools in Foshan may have occasional conflicts, but when facing external enemies, they adhere to an ancestral rule: unite as one and point their guns outward.

Li Su went up from the stage, his steps steady and his face as iron, followed by more than a dozen disciples of Hongsheng Hall.

"What is the meaning of your uninvited presence?" Li Su's voice was low, suppressing the noise in the room.

The leading Japanese man snapped his folding fan shut with a smile: "I am Yoshinobu Funakoshi, and my junior brother, Yoshichin Funakoshi, a karate practitioner. I have come here today to challenge the martial arts community of Foshan."

A few days ago, Yoshichin Funakoshi declared in the newspaper that he would challenge Wong Fei-hung and crush Lingnan martial arts. The news caused an uproar in Foshan's martial arts community, but the fight was scheduled for two months later, and Wong Fei-hung himself has not publicly responded.

What are these Japanese people up to by barging in on the day of the martial arts school's gathering?

The Japanese are known for their ruthlessness and cunning. In the First Sino-Japanese War, they launched a surprise attack on the Qing Dynasty while it was unprepared. The Russo-Japanese War was also fought after diplomatic relations were severed. Disregarding rules is their rule, and ruthless methods are their methods.

"A challenge?" Li Su's voice turned colder. "Funakoshi Gichin is challenging Master Wong Fei-hung. If you're looking for someone, go to Po Chi Lam. It seems you've come to the wrong place."

Yoshinobu Funakoshi shook his head, and his folding fan unfolded again with a "whoosh." On the fan was written the character "武" (wu, meaning martial arts), the ink strokes of which were fierce and menacing, as if they were about to jump out of the paper and bite someone.

The Japanese man in a suit behind him stepped forward, took a document from his briefcase, and handed it to Li Su with both hands.

"It's not just Wong Fei-hung, it's the entire Foshan martial arts community."

Li Su did not accept the document, and the Japanese side did not care, directly sending a translator to read it aloud.

The document's meaning is clear: Japan will send three fighters, and Foshan martial arts community will send three. The losers will leave the stage, while the winners will continue to compete until all three fighters on one side are defeated.

If the Foshan martial arts community loses, every martial arts school must hang a sign that reads "Sick Man of East Asia" at its entrance, send a representative to publicly admit defeat and surrender to Japan, and cease all boycotts of Japanese goods.

"You wish!" He Yongfu of the Hung Kuen School slammed his hand on the table, making the teacups jump.

Veins bulged on his neck, and his voice boomed as if it were coming from his chest, "Hanging up a sign that says 'Sick Man of East Asia'? My Hung Kuen school, since its founding by Master Tieqiao San, has never suffered such an insult! I'd rather die than stand for it!"

"Yes! We can't agree to that!"

"Japanese, get out of Foshan!"

The martial arts masters in the hall were filled with indignation and curses.

Ruan Qishan clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking.

The smile on Yao Cai's face had long since vanished. His hand pressed against the edge of the table, where a crack had appeared in the blue brick surface.

Chen Hongwu narrowed his eyes, his chest surging with murderous intent; the Japanese had never given up their desire to destroy China.

Those who have mastered martial arts may have minor moral failings, but they will never back down when it comes to the greater good.

They practiced martial arts to strengthen their bodies and defend their country.

This country is not the country of one family or one surname, but the country of hundreds of millions of ordinary people!

Yoshinobu Funakoshi seemed to have anticipated this scene. He remained calm and tapped his folding fan twice in his palm.

Suddenly, the sound of orderly footsteps came from the street outside the main hall.

The sound of hundreds of people's leather shoes clattering on the bluestone slabs was as dense as drumbeats, approaching from afar and stopping outside the gate of Hongsheng Hall. The light outside was blocked, and a large shadow poured in from beyond the threshold.

Yoshinobu Funakoshi's smile faded for a moment, replaced by a businesslike tone: "If you don't agree, the Imperial Japanese Army will launch a siege against all the martial arts schools in Foshan. Once the cannons fire, no matter how skilled you are, how many shells can you withstand?"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Li Su, past him, and across the room full of martial arts masters.

"The UK and the US have agreed to our actions."

The cursing in the main hall stopped abruptly.

What the hell is the logic behind the British agreeing to let the Japanese use force on Chinese territory?

But everyone present understood that there was no logic to this world. Even China, as a victorious nation at the Paris Peace Conference, had its territory carved up by the great powers; who would care about the fate of a few martial arts schools in a mere Foshan?

The army surrounded and attacked, and artillery bombarded the area; few people present were able to escape unscathed.

He Yongfu clenched his fists and sat back down, Tie Zhi Chen lowered his head, Ruan Qishan's palms were clenched so tightly they turned white, and Yao closed his eyes.

Ip Man sat to the side, remaining silent, but his gaze was fixed on Yoshinobu Funakoshi's feet.

A judo master has extremely stable steps and a weight that is firmly planted on the ground.

"These Japanese are too arrogant," someone muttered under their breath, but their voice already carried a hint of helplessness.

Just then, footsteps came from behind the screen.

An old man came out.

He was in his fifties, with gray hair, not tall, but broad shoulders and a thick back. He wore a gray cloth long gown, the collar of which was starched and clean. His steps were steady, each step landing silently, his center of gravity always centered on his crotch.

His hands hung naturally at his sides, his knuckles were large, and the calluses on his hands were as thick as coins.

Chen Sheng, Grandmaster of Choy Li Fut Kung Fu and Head of Hung Sing Kung Fu.

Chen Sheng holds a very high seniority in the Foshan martial arts community.

He studied under Zhang Yan, who in turn studied under Zen Master Zhishan, one of the Five Elders of Southern Shaolin. Therefore, he is a legitimate successor of the Southern Shaolin lineage.

Chen Sheng walked to the front of the hall, his gaze landing on Funakoshi Yoshinobu, and said, "Hong Sheng Guan has accepted your challenge!"

Li Su's expression changed: "Junior brother—"

Chen Sheng raised his hand to stop him and continued, "However, your conditions are too harsh. If we win, Japanese goods will be permanently withdrawn from Guangdong, and no Japanese people will be allowed to appear in Foshan! If we lose, all martial arts schools will stop organizing public boycotts of Japanese goods, and forget about anything else."

Yoshinobu Funakoshi's eyes lit up, and the Japanese man in the suit next to him leaned close to his ear and whispered a translation.

His smile deepened after hearing this, and he slammed his folding fan down on his palm: "It's a deal!"

Chen Sheng gave him a cold look: "It's a deal."

The Japanese representatives set up their formation in front of the hall, and several men in judo uniforms brought over three chairs and placed them on the east side of the ring.

Yoshinobu Funakoshi sat down first, with the translator in a suit standing behind him, taking out a notebook to take notes.

The martial arts masters sat down again, but the atmosphere was completely different from before. The martial arts schools in the same city, who had just been arguing over who was the best, were now in the same boat.

The ring is still the same ring, but the people who step onto it no longer carry personal honor or disgrace on their shoulders; they carry the reputation of the twenty-three martial arts schools in Foshan.

Li Su stood at the front of the stage, his voice heavy as lead: "Who is willing to fight against Japan later?"

Chen Sheng was the first to speak: "I can go."

Li Su frowned and lowered her voice: "Junior brother, you—"

"What's wrong with me?" Chen Sheng interrupted him, his gaze calm. "Master Huang Feihong is older than me, and this April he performed his 'throwing thallus' skill at the Guangzhou Jingwu Tournament, receiving thunderous applause. I'm only in my fifties, in my prime, so why can't I fight?"

He paused, then raised his voice a few decibels, as if speaking to everyone: "Hongsheng Hall has withstood seventy years of trials and tribulations since it was founded by Master Zhang Yan. There's no reason for a bunch of Japanese pirates to block the door and curse us. These old bones of mine can still hold up."

Chen Hongwu sat in the audience, his gaze fixed on Chen Sheng.

When Chen Sheng walks, his center of gravity is always lowered to his groin, and his feet land silently. This is a sign that he has mastered the "Pulling Three Stars" stance of Cai Li Fo. His hands have large joints and extremely thick calluses on the base of his thumbs. He has been practicing "Piercing Throwing Fist" for at least thirty years. Looking at the entire Foshan, Chen Sheng can definitely be ranked in the top three in terms of fist and foot skills alone.

But youth has its weaknesses.

Even the strongest person in their fifties can't match the strength of a thirty-year-old. While their visible strength (manifested power) remains, their hidden strength (latent power) has likely declined.

His stamina, reaction time, and ability to withstand blows are all inferior to those of younger people. If Japanese karate masters were to engage in a series of tag-team battles, Chen Sheng might not be able to hold his own.

However, this courage is worthy of respect.

Chen Hongwu stood up and said, "I'll count as one."

All the martial arts masters in the room turned to look at him, and no one objected.

A qualification earned through fists is more valuable than any title.

The first two people signed up quickly and decisively, but the third one got stuck.

Li Su's gaze swept across the crowd; some people lowered their heads, while others looked away.

It's not that I don't want to go, it's just that the pressure is too much.

If they win, they are heroes of Foshan's martial arts world. If they lose, they are sinners for all time.

Losing one's own reputation is a small matter; the real problem is that the entire Foshan martial arts school's reputation will be ruined in one's hands. How will one stand in the martial arts world after that? How will one face one's ancestors?

Ip Man and Ruan Qishan exchanged a glance but neither spoke.

Wing Chun's short bridge and narrow stance are suitable for street fighting, while Karate's straight punch and spinning kick are perfect counters to Wing Chun's short-range center-line attacks.

The room fell silent.

"I'll do it!"

Finally, Qian Weifang, Chen Sheng's first disciple and the head instructor of Hongsheng Ancestral Hall, stepped forward.

Thirty-six years old, at the peak of his prime.

He was a disciple personally trained by Chen Sheng, with a solid foundation in kung fu. He had already mastered the "piercing punch" and "pulling three stars" techniques of Cai Li Fo boxing to the point of internal strength.

What's most remarkable is that he participated in the Xinhai Revolution, survived countless battles, and possessed great courage and was not afraid of the stage.

Chen Sheng glanced at him, nodded, and didn't say anything more. He had personally taught this apprentice, and he knew the extent of his skills.

The three selected were: Chen Sheng, Chen Hongwu, and Qian Weifang.

On the stage, the Japanese side was already urging them on. Funakoshi Yoshinobu closed his folding fan, stood up, cupped his hands in a respectful bow, and asked in broken Chinese, "Have the representatives from Foshan been chosen yet?"

Li Su gave him a cold look: "You've made your choice."

"Then let the competition begin."