Su Jie’s plane soon landed in Tokyo, Japan.
The Tai Chi Martial Arts Federation was located here.
Tai Chi was also extremely popular in Japan.
People from all over the world traveled thousands of miles to China to learn from masters, then returned to their hometowns to open schools and teach disciples.
Some people had only learned a few routines, yet they dared to go back and teach hundreds or thousands of students, then proclaim themselves grandmasters.
There were many such frauds in China, and there were also many in Japan.
Of course, there was another popular traditional Chinese boxing style in Japan called Eight Extremities Boxing. This style was highly esteemed by the Japanese, with some even calling it the true killing fist.
That was because during the Republican era, Li Shuwen, known as the Divine Spear, had beaten to death quite a few Japanese martial arts experts.
Su Jie had never been to Japan before, but he knew that Japan had a very strong martial arts culture.
The extreme Bushido spirit gave the Japanese a training will that disregarded life and death.
For example, Kimura Hikoichi, who would swear before every match to commit seppuku if he lost, and Oyama Masutatsu, who shaved off his own eyebrows while training in solitude deep in the mountains. Not to mention Miyamoto Musashi, who wielded a single katana and traveled everywhere challenging famous masters to life-and-death duels.
In terms of martial arts, Japan had an abundance of mad seekers of the way. Su Jie had extensively read Japanese martial arts history, in which various martial arts masters had done many incredible things in pursuit of the highest realm of martial arts. Many of their experiences were worth learning from for the Chinese.
Thus, after World War II, Japanese martial artists quickly spread their arts throughout the world. Meanwhile, most Chinese traditional martial arts were still stuck in the realm of superstition and deception.
“Su Jie, over here.”
At the exit of the arrival hall, someone was calling out to him.
Old Chen was already waiting with several Hunyuan Tai Chi disciples.
“With you here to support us, Hunyuan Tai Chi can finally make a name for itself within the industry,” Old Chen said, his mind finally at ease upon seeing Su Jie appear.
“What is the level of this exchange meeting?” Su Jie asked. He was truly unfamiliar with the various situations within the Tai Chi circle. The traditional martial arts circle was relatively closed. Without entering its gates, one could not find its interpersonal relationships. Even when competitions were held, they were conducted behind closed doors and never publicized.
Therefore, the overall level of traditional martial arts was relatively low. Especially with Tai Chi, which had hundreds of millions of practitioners worldwide, true masters were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns.
“All the top experts will be in attendance. Of course, they are nothing to you,” Old Chen said with great satisfaction. “Even Yang Shu, who is currently recognized as the number one in Tai Chi, is no match for you.”
“Is he really that formidable?” Several disciples heard Old Chen’s praise and were skeptical, but they did not dare say it loudly. They muttered quietly among themselves, exchanging whispers.
Su Jie heard them but only smiled.
Old Chen ignored the disciples’ muttering, pulled Su Jie into a car, and soon they arrived in front of a townhouse.
Above the entrance of this townhouse hung a plaque bearing the characters for Hunyuan Tai Chi.
The townhouse was a traditional old residential style from Kyoto, Japan. The front was a shop, and the back was a courtyard. Many residents used the front shop for business and lived in the rear.
Most townhouses were very small, but this one in front of them was quite spacious, somewhat resembling a martial arts dojo.
“Elder Chen, this is your martial arts school? You’ve opened branches even in Japan?” Su Jie was quite surprised. His own Diandao Martial Arts was still playing within the small circle of domestic fighting, while Hunyuan Tai Chi had already spread its branches overseas and built such a large dojo. The gap was clear.
“One of my Japanese disciples opened this. When he heard I was coming, he insisted that I stay here and arranged all my meals and lodging. He has studied Tai Chi with me for twenty years. Starting at age twenty, he spends three months each year in China. He has maintained this for twenty years without interruption. He is the most dedicated among my disciples, and now his achievement is the highest,” Old Chen said with great emotion.
As he spoke, a Japanese man appeared at the entrance of the townhouse, followed by many Japanese disciples dressed in Tai Chi uniforms.
This leading Japanese man was about forty years old, with a square face and an upright, resolute quality between his eyebrows. His eyes were particularly round and long, his eyebrows like silkworms—this was the “phoenix eye” and “sleeping silkworm eyebrow,” somewhat resembling Guan Yu. Judging from his physiognomy, such a person could persist unwaveringly in anything he did. He was very loyal, brave, and fierce, but also somewhat arrogant.
Seeing Old Chen, this Japanese man immediately knelt and kowtowed three times. The Japanese disciples behind him also knelt and followed suit.
“I’ve told you not to act like this,” Old Chen said, quickly pulling him up.
“Proprieties cannot be abandoned. This is what distinguishes our martial arts from fighting,” the Japanese man said respectfully, yet clearly expressing a different view from Old Chen.
Su Jie knew that although Old Chen was a traditional martial arts master, he disliked the whole apprenticeship ceremony and kowtowing. He preferred a modern coaching system, believing that only such a style could produce good students.
If a student was in awe of the teacher, they would never amount to anything.
But this Japanese man before him strongly identified with that system of propriety and had brought it to Japan, incorporating it into daily life like military training.
Japanese martial arts placed the greatest emphasis on details of etiquette, including posture while standing, sitting, eating, drinking, and dressing. Many people did not understand this, thinking it had no use for fighting. In fact, this was to cultivate dignity and discipline while training the mind through all activities.
Once the mind was well trained, martial arts movements naturally followed.
Just as in the military, folding blankets into tofu blocks was done to cultivate the soldier’s quality of obeying orders without question.
But Su Jie also knew that too many rules could become a kind of ritual murder, grinding down a person’s spirit and causing them to lose creativity.
These two aspects required a balance.
Too many rules made things lifeless. Once rules were broken, new creative things would spring forth, but it would also cause a mixing of the good with the bad, eventually leading to the collapse of ritual and morality, with no hope of recovery.
This was the opposition of yin and yang.
Su Jie had already come to understand this principle.
Thus, his martial arts skill had now truly taken on the bearing of a grandmaster. He had come to understand that whether in martial arts or in life, one must grasp that balance point, seize that most “moderate” point, in order to keep the balance of life’s scale forever in equilibrium, never tilting or falling.
In recent days, he had begun advancing into the realm of “enlightenment.”
“This is my disciple, Takada Kura, who has studied Tai Chi with me for twenty years,” Old Chen introduced to Su Jie.
“Master, he is not your disciple?” Takada spoke fluent Chinese, asking quietly. He had already noticed that Su Jie seemed to hold a high status, not like Old Chen’s disciple but more like a friend.
“This is Hunyuan Tai Chi’s external support. A true master. You can try push-hands with him, and he will guide you in the changes of force and breath flow,” Old Chen said.
The doubt in Takada’s eyes was unmistakable.
They soon entered the inner courtyard and dojo, where dozens of disciples were practicing push-hands with each other, while others were practicing Tai Chi routines.
Old Chen’s Hunyuan Tai Chi differed from ordinary techniques, incorporating some rapid movements rather than being uniformly slow. It was like playing the zither—sometimes like a spring breeze brushing the face, like pearls falling on a jade plate, like dripping water from the eaves; sometimes like golden spears and iron horses, fiercely attacking and defending, opening wide and closing large.
This kind of routine was quite different from ordinary gentle styles and was his own understanding.
This set of techniques had considerable practical combat ability. In many Tai Chi circle exchanges, Hunyuan Tai Chi disciples had achieved very good results. However, they were attacked by other Tai Chi schools, who accused him of arbitrarily altering the boxing style and breaking the rules.
“Mr. Su Jie, let’s exchange push-hands,” Takada invited.
He extended his left hand.
Exchanges in Tai Chi were always done through push-hands, not through kicking and punching fighting from the outset. Measuring a person’s depth in Tai Chi skill was also done through the force-testing of push-hands.
Push-hands was somewhat similar to wrestling, but different.
Wrestling had skillful techniques as well as brute force. Most of it was brute-force clinching.
Push-hands absolutely forbade the use of brute force. Instead, it used neutralizing force. When an enemy’s force came to strike, one must first neutralize it, then aim for the enemy’s weak point and attack with very little force, causing the enemy to fall or be subdued by grappling.
Everything was based on the principle of a balanced lever, emphasizing the instant of change when one “hears” the incoming force.
This was an elegant physical culture. But unless one had trained to a very high realm, it could not be used for actual combat. However, it was very useful for self-cultivation, physical fitness, and sharpening one’s sensitivity.
Simply put, it was a training method.
Of course, these competitions were very safe.
Su Jie also extended his hand, making contact with Takada, then pushed, sending a force his way.
Takada smiled inwardly and was about to neutralize it when he found that the force was flickering and changing, like a snake flicking its tongue, like a silkworm spinning silk, sticking to his arm, causing his neutralization to land on empty air.
His entire body instantly lost balance, thrown to the ground by this push, even rolling over twice.
“What?”
“What just happened?”
“How is that possible?” The surrounding disciples were all astonished, completely losing their composure.
Everyone had been watching this push-hands exchange. They had only seen Su Jie and Takada pressing their hands together, then Su Jie pushed, and Takada was thrown to the ground as if struck by some strange “internal energy,” even rolling over.
“Impossible!” Takada himself seemed unable to believe it. He got up again, wanting to push again. He still had not understood what had happened.
Su Jie only smiled, extended his hand again, and the two made contact.
This time, Takada took the initiative. He suddenly shook, releasing a crisp, short burst of force that withdrew as soon as it landed, like cracking a whip, somewhat similar to an inch-force.
This type of force had strong explosive power and withdrew quickly, allowing one to rapidly stabilize the body and launch a second strike.
But as he shook, the force once again landed on empty space. At the moment he withdrew it, Su Jie’s pushing force came again, causing him to crash heavily to the ground.
This time he did not roll, but stumbled back several steps before falling on his rear, gasping for breath.