Chinese martial arts: From human punching bags to martial arts mastery

As dawn broke, the morning mist shrouded the streets and alleys like a thin veil, and the cool morning light slowly drifted over the eaves.

Taking advantage of the quiet atmosphere, Chen Feng arrived at the boxing gym early.

At this moment.

The building was still empty and quiet, with only the gentle breeze of the morning and the occasional wisp of steam and the aroma of noodles drifting from the backyard.

"Creak—"

The moon gate to the backyard was gently pushed open, and Yan Xiaomei held two steaming white steamed buns in her two small hands.

Her little face was tense. She first peeked around quickly, glancing left and right. Seeing that no one was around, she tiptoed to Chen Feng and hurriedly stuffed the steamed bun into his arms. Her voice was soft and urgent, with a gentle reminder: "Eat quickly, don't let anyone else see!"

In those days of scarcity, two snow-white, fluffy steamed buns were a rare treat.

"Thanks--"

Chen Feng held the steaming hot bun in his hands, turning it over and over involuntarily. A warm feeling spread from his palms straight to his heart. Just as he was about to say thank you, Yan Xiaomei, like a nimble kitten, turned around and tiptoed into the backyard.

But as soon as she turned the corner of the moon gate, she bumped right into Yan Tieqiao, who was coming straight at her.

"stop!"

Yan Xiaomei panicked and instinctively tried to back away, but Yan Tieqiao reacted quickly, grabbing her small hand, which was slightly red from being burned by the steamed bun. He lowered his head and gently blew on her red fingertips, his tone full of undisguised doting: "Silly girl, next time remember to use a bowl to hold the steamed bun. If you really get burned, it will break your father's heart!"

Sudden.

Yan Tieqiao made a shushing gesture, lightly stomped his heel, and his body pressed against the inner courtyard wall like a fallen leaf, without disturbing a speck of dust, as still as if he had melted into the air.

Yan Xiaomei was shocked. Her father, who was usually stern and authoritative, was now so gossipy.

Although she was surprised, she tiptoed close to the wall and listened in as well.

On the other side of the wall.

Chen Feng leaned against the corner alone, munching on a white steamed bun while muttering to himself.

"The steamed buns smell so good!"

"My junior sister is so kind!"

"That old geezer is really wicked..."

"Last time we ate together, he chatted about all sorts of random things, even asking about the few embroidery needles in my house, but he wouldn't utter a single word of serious martial arts theory!"

"Today, we absolutely have to figure out the ins and outs of Tongbei Quan. More money, please... We can't just stand around practicing mindlessly all day and then only know how to use the 'Supporting Hammer' move when facing an enemy!"

"My senior brother's terms like 'manifest strength,' 'hidden strength,' and 'transforming strength' are completely baffling to me; they're too abstract!"

"These days, guns fly everywhere. No matter how strong your fist is, can it really withstand a bullet?"

"Can learning martial arts truly allow one to gain a foothold in this chaotic world dominated by modern guns and cannons?"

……

Before long, his fellow disciples arrived one after another, and the once quiet hall instantly became lively.

Everyone immediately spotted Chen Feng in the corner. His sudden return after disappearing for several days immediately made him the center of attention, with whispers and murmurs rising and falling, making everyone feel annoyed.

Some people pursed their lips and whispered that Chen Feng had been missing for so long, he must have given up and had no intention of practicing boxing anymore.

Some people scoffed, concluding that he was inconsistent in his training and clearly couldn't endure the hardship of practicing boxing, and was simply not cut out for martial arts.

Some disciples who had been to the "Beast Cage" to watch underground boxing matches privately mocked Chen Feng with disdain, saying that he was nothing more than a useless human punching bag who would only get beaten up if he went on stage.

The seventh senior brother, Qian Hu, stepped forward directly, his tone extremely sarcastic and merciless in his mockery: "With Chen Feng's dull and rigid aptitude, even if he stands in the stance for a full month, he won't even take a single step into the basics!"

Hearing these unbearable taunts, Yan Xiaomei's face instantly darkened. Unable to contain herself any longer, she strode out of the inner courtyard and sternly rebuked everyone.

She wanted to tell him the amazing fact that Chen Feng had mastered the basics of standing meditation in just one day, but she bit her lip and swallowed her words.

In the end, she simply stood silently in front of Chen Feng, protecting him firmly.

Seeing Yan Xiaomei so openly protecting Chen Feng, Qian Hu was instantly consumed by jealousy. He was so angry that his teeth itched, but because she was his master's daughter, he dared not speak out.

He could only clench his fists tightly, his eyes filled with resentment, mouthing the curse: "You gigolo!"

The situation was at a stalemate.

The eldest disciple strode into the boxing gym. He glanced at the crowd, whose expressions varied and who were whispering amongst themselves, and then looked at Yan Xiaomei, who was protecting Chen Feng. He immediately stood up and sternly rebuked the disciples who were talking nonsense. The tense atmosphere calmed down slightly.

Not long after.

Yan Tieqiao slowly walked out of the backyard with his cane. His calm and restrained martial arts aura was overwhelming. The once noisy boxing gym fell silent instantly, and everyone subconsciously straightened their backs.

"Today we are talking about boxing!"

He calmly swept his gaze over the group of disciples, and began to explain the essence of Tongbei Quan in a deep voice.

"Tongbei Quan (a style of Chinese martial arts) cultivates internal stance training and external striking techniques. Stance training is the foundation; only with a solid foundation can one develop true power. Striking techniques are the blade; every move and every stance is aimed directly at the opponent's vital points!"

Followed by.

Yan Tieqiao explained in detail the principle that stance training and striking techniques are interdependent and integrated internally and externally, and everyone listened attentively.

His tone abruptly shifted, becoming sharp as a knife: "Our martial arts have never been a fancy display for others, much less a spectacle to attract attention. Its essence is, without a doubt, a killing technique!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Yan Tieqiao raised his hand and called over his senior brother, "Come on, lend a hand!"

All the disciples held their breath instantly, their eyes fixed on the center of the arena, not daring to even breathe loudly.

Yan Tieqiao slumped his shoulders and elbows, his feet grinding the ground with a soft thud, and then suddenly exhaled, "Hey—!"

With a single step, the ground seemed to tremble slightly. He looked up at his senior brother, his voice as cold as ice: "Stand firm. I'll only demonstrate once. Witness the true killing power of Tongbei Fist!"

The eldest brother dared not be negligent in the slightest. He immediately lowered his waist and hips, bent his knees and assumed a horse stance. His feet gripped the ground firmly like the roots of an old tree. His arms were bent at the elbows and held in front of his chest, palms facing forward and elbows pointing downward. He firmly protected the three vital points of his heart, throat and dantian. His muscles were tense layer by layer, and his shoulders and back exerted force like a fully drawn bow. His whole body was tightly guarded, as if facing a formidable enemy.

The next second, Yan Tieqiao moved.

Without any fancy opening moves or unnecessary stances, he suddenly straightened his back, his entire spine running through it like a sleeping iron whip suddenly unleashing its power—the power originates from the feet, drives the hips, the hips lead the waist, the waist propels the back, the back drives the shoulders, and the shoulders penetrate the fist. The core of Tongbei Quan, "Tongbei Jin," explodes completely and without reservation at this moment.

"Hey--"

He thrust his front hand forward with a crane-beak-like force, his wrist slightly lowered and his knuckles slightly hooked. It seemed like a light touch, but in reality, it was as fast as lightning. He precisely locked onto the connection between the Jianjing acupoint on the senior brother's right shoulder and the elbow joint. With a quick touch of his fingertips, he executed the Tongbei Fist's deadly move of sealing the throat and locking the meridians. Once the lock was firmly in place, the shoulder tendon would be severed and the arm would be rendered useless on the spot.

The eldest brother reacted extremely quickly. Noticing the tightness in his shoulders and neck, he immediately lowered his shoulders and elbows, pulling them inward. He then used his right arm to deflect the attack horizontally, turning his wrist outward and palm outward, using a hard-hitting stance to parry Yan Tieqiao's locking hand.

But Yan Tieqiao's counterattack was already in full swing. Like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, it burrowed straight in through the gap in the senior brother's block. The fist did not strike the skin or bones, but instead aimed at the three vital points of the heart, ribs, and dantian. The palm of the fist was facing inward and the back of the fist was taut, taking a direct and deadly route through the center.

"call--"

Before the fist arrived, the wind came first. The fierce wind from the punch stung the senior brother's face, and the surrounding disciples could even clearly hear the soft sound of the air being torn apart.

Just as the fist was about to touch the skin, Yan Tieqiao suddenly flipped his wrist, turning the force from hard to fierce. The fierce straight punch instantly transformed into a piercing palm strike, with his five fingers pressed together like an iron cone, his palm blade taut and straight. His fingertips pointed directly at the intersection of the senior brother's armpit and soft ribs, his palm strike as swift as an arrow, piercing through the bone—this was a deadly move in Tongbei Quan that could break bones and injure internal organs, called "Piercing Bone and Heart".

The eldest brother's expression changed drastically. At the critical moment of life and death, he suddenly twisted his waist and hips to the left, pulled his right shoulder in and tucked his chest in. At the same time, he lowered his left arm and pushed his elbow out, trying to protect his ribs with his elbow and avoid the blow with his body, thus deflecting the piercing palm strike.

Yan Tieqiao's punches were ridiculously fast, and his arms stretched out like springs, as if they had grown longer out of thin air. No matter how the senior brother twisted his body to dodge, his cold fingertips were always there, firmly locking onto vital points, leaving no way to avoid them.

"Bang!"

A dull, resounding explosion followed.

Yan Tieqiao's palm stopped abruptly an inch below his senior brother's ribs. He suddenly withdrew his strength, but the extremely condensed internal force still pierced through the air and slammed into the soft ribs.

The eldest brother felt a sudden jolt in his internal organs, his breath surged backward, and he staggered back several steps before barely managing to stand. He instinctively put his arms in front of his chest to protect himself, his blood and qi churning violently, and his lips turned slightly pale, clearly indicating that he had been shaken by the hidden force.

One move, and only one move.

There is no entanglement, no showing off skills. One lock, one break, one pierce, one thrust, one strike. The front hand seals the joints, the back hand breaks the defense, and the palm strikes the vital points. Every move is aimed at the fatal point. Every move is a killing method.

The boxing gym was deathly silent. Everyone was dumbfounded, forgetting to breathe, and only feeling utterly shocked.

The eldest brother suppressed his surging blood and the shock in his heart. He had a clear understanding of the hidden force in that instant. He immediately clasped his hands and bowed solemnly to Yan Tieqiao, his voice still carrying a trace of lingering excitement.

"Thank you, Master, for your guidance on hidden strength!"

Yan Tieqiao slowly withdrew his hand, his cane lightly tapping the ground. The sound was soft, yet it struck everyone's heart like a heavy hammer.

"Did you see clearly?"

"This is the true essence of Tongbei Quan!"

"This isn't just for show, nor is it a street brawl; it's the ability to kill a person with a single step, to decide life and death with a single palm strike!"

His gaze swept across the entire room, finally settling on the inconspicuous figure at the back of the crowd.

It was Chen Feng.

Everyone else took it as a casual glance from their master, but Chen Feng's heart skipped a beat.

He clearly saw a hint of a smile hidden deep in Yan Tieqiao's eyes, a smile that no one else could decipher.