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

Chen Hongwu looked at Huang Hansen and smiled.

"There's no need for a friendly sparring match."

Huang Hansen's smile faltered for a moment, and the surrounding martial arts masters fell silent, their gazes all falling on Chen Hongwu.

"I can give you a few pointers."

As soon as these words were spoken, a low murmur arose in the hall.

The martial arts instructors exchanged glances, their expressions clearly conveying the message that Chen Hongwu was being too arrogant.

Who is Huang Hansheng? He is the second son of Huang Feihong, who inherited all the true skills of martial arts. He has fought against local martial arts masters in Foshan more than a hundred times and has never been defeated.

Although you, Chen Hongwu, killed some Japanese, you didn't even lift a finger, yet you dare to offer advice? Isn't that just putting on airs?

Huang Hansen frowned slightly, but quickly relaxed.

He sized up Chen Hongwu, who looked a few years younger than him, yet possessed the imposing presence of a towering mountain.

"Then please give me some pointers, Master Chen," Huang Hansen said with a cupped hand and a smile.

He wanted to see what Chen Hongwu could come up with. What could he possibly learn just by watching without actually fighting? He wasn't angry. He had seen countless martial arts masters since he was a child, some with real skills, some who were just bluffing, some who were arrogant, and some who were humble.

It is a fact that Chen Hongwu killed Gongcheng Changshun, and based on that alone, he is willing to hear Chen Hongwu's version of events.

Chen Hongwu's gaze swept over Huang Hansen, starting from his posture and going all the way down to his heels.

"Your footwork is the tiger-shaped step you learned from Master Huang. You walk it well and have a solid lower body. But when you walked over just now, your left foot landed three times heavier than your right foot. Do you have a right knee injury? When you exert force, you subconsciously shift your weight to your left foot."

Huang Hansen's smile faded.

He did have a right knee injury. To hone his boxing skills, he often accompanied caravans on escort missions. He had just returned from Guangxi yesterday, where he killed several bandits and sustained some injuries. Although he wasn't fully recovered, it didn't affect his mobility.

"When you clasped your hands just now, your elbows splayed out a little," Chen Hongwu continued. "This is due to the sinking elbow habit of Iron Wire Fist, but in the Tiger Crane Double Form Fist that Master Huang taught you, the power in the elbow bend wasn't flowing smoothly when connecting the sinking elbow to the upward strike. When you punched, the tendon on the inside of your forearm was too taut, so the punch was fast, but the landing point was inaccurate. It's enough for sparring, but for real kung fu, it's a step below."

Huang Hansheng's breath hitched for a second. He always felt something was off about the tendon on the inside of his forearm when he practiced boxing, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what the problem was.

Huang Feihong had given him some pointers a few times, but it was a habit he had developed over many years, and it was difficult to change.

"Your Tiger-Crane Double Form Fist is better in the Tiger Form than the Crane Form, but the Tiger Form is too rigid, and if it is too rigid, it will break."

The Crane Form is supposed to be the finishing touch of the Tiger and Crane Forms, but your Crane Form's power is too scattered, so when you finish the Tiger Form and turn into the Crane Form, your center of gravity will sway slightly.

Chen Hongwu raised his hand and pointed to his side with his index finger.

"If the lower back is not always full, you can hold on when you are in a horse stance, but when you change your stance, your waist will collapse."

If your waist collapses, half the power in your hands is lost. When you kick out with your right foot, the speed at which you pull it back is slightly slower. This slight difference is the combined effect of the old right knee injury and insufficient waist strength, as mentioned earlier.

The room was completely silent.

Chen Rumin's hand, which was holding the teacup, froze in mid-air, forgetting to put it down.

He had practiced Wing Chun his whole life and was well-versed in its principles. He understood every word Chen Hongwu said, and the more he listened, the more alarmed he became.

Without even lifting a finger, just by looking, one can discern a person's power exertion habits, the location of old injuries, and the strength of their footwork.

He knew he couldn't have that kind of insight.

Huang Hansheng stood there, his expression changing several times. First, surprise, then contemplation, and finally admiration.

He wasn't the kind of person who would get angry if someone pointed out his flaws. Every point Chen Hongwu made hit his sore spots, and he was absolutely right.

He took a deep breath, clasped his hands together, and bowed respectfully.

"Thank you for your guidance, Master Chen."

This is a truly heartfelt statement.

Chen Hongwu waved his hand: "You're too kind. You have a solid foundation. These are just minor details. You can correct them."

He wasn't being modest. Huang Hansheng's kung fu was already top-notch among his peers. Those flaws weren't due to a lack of basic skills, but rather subtle deviations that would appear after reaching a certain level of proficiency.

The fact that he could make such a mistake shows that his skills have passed the initial hurdle and entered the stage of fine refinement.

The way the martial arts masters around Chen Hongwu looked at him changed again. Those who had just thought he was arrogant were now feeling a little embarrassed.

Chen Hongwu did not stay in the main hall for long. After exchanging a few words with Chen Huaijin and Chen Hongwen, he wandered around the hall at his leisure.

The play on stage has already started. It's a Cantonese opera, with a male and a female actor singing a duet on stage, accompanied by the melodious sound of a huqin (a two-stringed bowed instrument).

Chen Hongwu didn't understand Cantonese opera and wasn't interested in listening. He carried his teacup around the main hall and then walked along the corridor, but he still couldn't spot Huang Feihong.

"What are you looking for, Brother Chen?"

Ip Man walked up to him at some point, holding a cup of tea in his hand.

"It's nothing," Chen Hongwu said.

"Looking for Master Wong Fei-hung?" Ip Man smiled.

Chen Hongwu remained silent, which was taken as tacit agreement.

The two chatted casually. Ip Man mentioned that the Wing Chun school had recently taken on several new disciples, and that the Ip family patriarch was planning to open a new shop in Foshan, asking Chen Huaijin if he was interested in partnering with him.

Chen Hongwu said that business matters should be handled by his father and second son, and he wouldn't concern himself with these things.

Halfway through the banquet, a different play was performed on stage: "The Conferment of Titles to the Prime Ministers of the Six Kingdoms".

The musician changed to two erhus, and the creaking tunes were even louder than before.

Just then, Huang Hansheng stepped out from the crowd.

He was followed by an elderly man in his early sixties.

The old man's hair was already gray, but it was combed meticulously and tied into a short braid at the back of his head. He had a square face, thick eyebrows, and a pair of small but very bright eyes, as if the sharpness accumulated in the eyes of someone who had practiced martial arts for many years was deep in his pupils.

He wore a dark blue short-sleeved shirt with sleeves two fingers wider than usual—a cut designed for martial arts practitioners to facilitate punching. On his feet were a pair of black cloth shoes with worn-out soles, clearly the work of someone who practiced stance training year-round.

Chen Hongwu recognized him, not by his face, but by his footwork.

The walking posture of Hung Kuen's "Four-Level Horse Stance" is different from that of ordinary martial arts masters. The center of gravity is lowered, the hips are as stable as a mountain, and every step is as if it is going to stomp a pit in the ground.

There's only one person in the entire Foshan who can stand at this level with such lower body strength.

Huang Feihong walked up to Chen Hongwu and stopped.

"Master Chen." He clasped his hands in a gesture of respect.

"Master Huang," Chen Hongwu returned the greeting with clasped hands.

"My son just received your guidance and told me about it when he got back." Huang Feihong lowered his hand, a smile appearing on his face. "We're both martial arts practitioners, so let's skip the formalities. I'd like to ask Master Chen for a sparring session; would you do me the honor?"

Chen Hongwu's lips curled up slightly.

That's exactly what I was thinking.

He came to this banquet tonight specifically to hear those words.

Huang Feihong nodded, as if he had expected him to agree.

He turned his head to look at the noisy crowd around him, then at the actor still singing on the stage, and frowned slightly.

"There are too many people and too much attention here; it's not a good place to talk."

Ip Man chimed in from the side, "The side hall is empty. If the two masters don't mind, it's quieter there."

Huang Feihong and Chen Hongwu exchanged a glance and nodded simultaneously.

A duel is a matter between martial arts masters, not a spectacle for outsiders. This is the rule, and those in the know understand it. Who would willingly reveal their most prized skills for others to see?

The four people walked towards the side hall.

Huang Hansen followed behind his father, while Ip Man walked at the very back.

Chen Hongwu paused briefly in front of the side hall door before pushing it open.

The side hall was much smaller than the main hall, only about the size of a regular living room. On the wall opposite the door hung a calligraphy scroll, not of landscapes, flowers, and birds, but of four large characters.

"The fist technique is natural."

The handwriting isn't beautiful, but the strokes are strong and powerful, clearly written by someone who practices martial arts. The signature is the character "Chen," written by someone surnamed Chen; I wonder whose handwriting it is.