Chapter 65: Chapter 64 A Young Boy with the Demeanor of a Grandmaster (Part 3)1
Translator: Inschain Editor: Inschain
“Who would’ve thought he made it to the finals?”
Zhao Chunjia quietly conversed with her father-in-law in the audience.
“At Riverside Town, when he explained the concept of ‘gaining momentum’ through chess analogies to Baiyu, and casually asked her about Wing Chun, it never crossed my mind to think in that direction,” said Huang Pinghu.
“Baiyu mentioned that she wanted to introduce him to a Wing Chun expert, but he politely declined.”
“Now it seems like it wasn’t out of fear, but rather that he didn’t see the need.”
Huang Pinghu slightly nodded but felt something was off. Whether it was a flaw in his memory or a twist of fate, he remembered Qian Quan’s expression at the time. It seemed like he was genuinely worried about getting beaten up instead of pretending.
However, if that was true, it meant that Qian Quan, having practiced martial arts for just two months, had improbably made it all the way to the finals, making this Cinderella story even more unrealistic.
“I wonder if he can beat Baiyu?” Zhao Chunjia was curious.
Before the competition officially began, various leaders from the education, sports, and propaganda departments gave their speeches.
Afterwards, there was a demonstration match of routines.
Bai Yuanzhi performed a set of Tai Chi.
Other students demonstrated various traditional weapons like swords, spears, staffs, and more.
These were all essential components and the main events of traditional martial arts championships.
Otherwise, if in the formal competition later, the two contestants had a significant skill gap, and the match was over in just three moves, what would the leaders and the audience have to watch?
In fact, even the official match had a demonstration round.
They were not concerned about Qian Quan; he could last a while with anyone, adapting to any move, even if his opponent fought awkwardly. His combination of combat readiness and visual appeal made him the ideal contestant in the eyes of the organizers.
Some even joked that Qian Quan fought as if he was a plant by the event organizers, worthy of his appearances in Bai Yuanzhi’s videos.
Zhao Baiyu, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Faced with the ‘martial blockage,’ she was prone to fascination, not concerned about winning or losing, just serious.
However, when she got serious, her strength was too strong, and her opponents found it extremely difficult to defend.
At this moment, Qian Quan and Zhao Baiyu had already taken the stage amidst the attention of the crowd.
“Do you really know kung fu?” Zhao Baiyu asked Qian Quan, her expression lacking surprise and appearing somewhat indifferent.
“Nice to see you again,” Qian Quan smiled as he appraised the girl in front of him.
He understood that she was currently stuck in a certain mental state, similar to scientists or mathematicians engrossed in their work.
“If you can’t keep up during the match, remember to shout ‘stop’,” Zhao Baiyu warned, aware of Qian Quan’s friendship with her grandfather.
“I will,” Qian Quan agreed.
The referee signaled, and their match commenced.
“Please,” Qian Quan said.
Zhao Baiyu extended her right palm forward, with her left palm positioned near her right elbow, assuming a “Lean Horse Inquires the Way” stance.
Qian Quan made no move, circling around her.
Zhao Baiyu’s palms always faced Qian Quan as she shuffled her feet and also turned in a half-circle.
In Xingyi Fist and Eight Trigrams Palm, the concept was “Three Forms, Three Forces.” The so-called three forms were: walking like a dragon, moving and turning like a monkey, and changing stances like an eagle.
The three forces involved moving as if wading through mud, arms twisting like a rope, and turning like a grinding mill.
The goal was to maintain one’s Qi in a seamless flow, storing energy without leaking, and at the same time, not exposing any flaws to the opponent.
Carefully observing her footwork, Qian Quan seized an opening as Zhao Baiyu changed her palm positions, striking her right shoulder with a Rushing Punch.
Ideally, the punch should have targeted the opponent’s chest, but given that he was sparring with a girl, some martial courtesy was required.
Zhao Baiyu deflected with her palm, and her hidden left palm behind her right elbow shot out in response.
Qian Quan turned and parried with a “Plough Hands”, also launching a palm strike.
Thus, they began to exchange moves.
Zhao Baiyu’s palms were like blades, hacking and slashing incessantly.
Qian Quan countered skillfully with his left fist and right palm.
After the first round, neither had gained the upper hand.
“Are you holding up alright? I haven’t even exerted my full strength yet,” Zhao Baiyu remarked.
To those unaware of her capabilities, her comment would sound like trash talk.
Qian Quan just smiled, taking a step forward to unleash a heavy, short-range punch.
Zhao Baiyu met it with a “Cun Palm,” only to feel a tremendous force that pushed her back five steps before she regained her stance. She quickly changed her hand forms and lunged forward to initiate an attack.
Qian Quan grabbed both of her wrists and pulled back.
Zhao Baiyu pushed off the ground, spinning in mid-air around her waist as the axis, freeing herself from Qian Quan’s pull. She then stabilized her stance with her palms in a circular position, embodying the “empty and agile” energy.
Qian Quan, loosening his grip, inquired, “I heard from Mr. Huang that your master taught you some new skills. Would you care to demonstrate?”
Qian Quan’s previous aggressive round was a hint for Zhao Baiyu to not hold back.
Zhao Baiyu sensed that Qian Quan was far stronger than she had anticipated. Her palm positions and eyes turned razor-sharp suddenly.
With this transformation, her Qi field changed dramatically, emitting a chilly, blade-like aura.
“Both kids are impressive,” the two martial arts luminaries watching from the sidelines exchanged opinions.
“One is undoubtedly from Gong Xuanzhu’s lineage, but the boy’s origin is unclear,” another commented.
“Ever heard the saying, ‘masters are found among common folk’? He might be from a family tradition.”
“I wonder who will come out slightly ahead.”
“Well know in another three rounds.”
Gong Xuanzhu, sitting not far from them, had remained expressionless until he saw Zhao Baiyu change her moves to employ “Sixty-Four Hands.” He immediately turned serious.
“Be careful.”
Zhao Baiyu warned Qian Quan before launching her palms in unison. One pushed while the other sliced, a move known as “Clear Breeze Strokes” in Sixty-Four Hands.
Qian Quan heard the whooshing sound of wind and exclaimed, “Excellent!” as he countered with a Circle Hands and a Chum Kiu.
Zhao Baiyu’s arms were neither bent nor straight, resembling a taut bow storing infinite energy. She spun her body, unleashing two more palms called “White Snow Reflecting Light.”
Qian Quan parried and blocked effortlessly, showing his own mastery.
Zhao Baiyu was amazed, her moves becoming even quicker and stronger.
“Flowing Clouds and Running Water,” “Immortal Changing Shadows,” “Bright Dawn Scattering Silk,” “Pulling Silk from the Cocoon”…
These skills from the Sixty-Four Hands were executed one after the other, twisting and turning like water, flipping and coiling like a dragon.
She used her palms as the skill, her movement as the application; her body followed her steps, her palms followed her body, and her steps followed her palms. When she was forceful, it was like an explosive crackling of ice, as quick as thunder and lightning.
Zhao Baiyu became increasingly engrossed in the fight, losing herself in it completely.
In the spectator seats, Zhao Chunjia’s fists were clenched involuntarily, his gaze fixed intently on the stage.
Huang Pinghu, Gong Xuanzhu, Li Zihe, and others were equally engrossed.
“Her movements are so graceful; is this a performance match?” an uninformed spectator commented.
“I don’t know, but she looks incredibly powerful; I feel like one punch could knock me down.”
Qian Quan watched in silent admiration. While Zhao Baiyu’s skill was not on par with Zhang Xiang’er, her continuous display of brilliant techniques captivated him.
“Don’t try to force each move to produce a sound. Make sure all your moves are connected,” Qian Quan said.
He observed Zhao Baiyu’s shortcomings and offered unsolicited advice while defending against her attacks.
Zhao Baiyu hesitated briefly but continued without breaking her rhythm.
“Merge intent with Qi, Qi with force, and force with intent. Make each move flow into the next, echoing one another. The sounds will naturally arise.”
Usually, such advice might sound pedantic, but in the heat of the battle, it cleared away any cloud of confusion.
“How do I connect them?” Zhao Baiyu asked while aiming a palm strike at Qian Quan’s chin.
“Have you ever heard of resonance?”
Qian Quan replied, suddenly moving and launching both fists side by side, quivering like twin dragons emerging from the sea.
Zhao Baiyu heard a resonating sound as if something struck deep within her heart.
Instinctively, she crossed her palms to block, then found herself flying backward.
“Baiyu!”
Zhao Chunjia leaped to his feet.
“Don’t worry,” Huang Pinghu beside him calmly reassured.
Gong Xuanzhu remained seated but his eyes sparkled with keen interest.
“Forget about the forms and concepts, focus on frequency and rhythm,” Qian Quan said.
Since mastering Grandmaster-level Wing Chun, these insights came to him naturally. Now, meeting a gifted young woman who was deeply connected to his own family, he couldn’t help but offer guidance.
Regardless of the martial art, the principles became universal when taken to the extreme.
“Forget about the forms and concepts, focus on frequency and rhythm…”
Zhao Baiyu repeated to herself. These words rang in her ears like lightning cutting through the fog in her heart.
During this period, she immersed herself in the relentless practice and contemplation of the Sixty-Four Hands, a sequence in Wing Chun martial arts. She was consumed by a fervor, finding each move intricate and each technique sublime. Yet, despite her ceaseless efforts, she struggled to make substantial progress. Even when she managed to produce some semblance of power in her strikes, it felt awkward and disconnected. Achieving the sought-after “Golden Voice” in her movements was a distant dream, let alone the elusive “Jade Vibration.”
But today, prompted by Qian Quan to execute the Sixty-Four Hands and hearing his explanation, she felt as if a veil had been lifted. Enlightenment struck.
“I’ve got it, I’ve got it!” Zhao Baiyu cried out, overcome with emotion and clarity.
Qian Quan merely smiled and assumed a Wing Chun Salutation.
“Qian Quan, thank you!” Zhao Baiyu was visibly excited, her eyes shining as they once did.
In the spectator seats…
Zhao Chunjia was puzzled. “What’s going on with Baiyu?”
“Everything is falling into place,” Huang Pinghu chuckled. He might not have been versed in martial arts, but he was good at reading the mood and understanding human nature.
Zhao Chunjia then turned to Gong Xuanzhu. “Master Gong?”
Gong Xuanzhu looked moved, murmuring to himself, “How remarkable! Such a young person displayed the demeanor of a grandmaster!”
Zhao Chunjia suddenly looked toward the arena and saw his daughter launching her attacks on Qian Quan, her movements as graceful as a startled swan and as agile as a meandering dragon.
The ceaseless hissing sounds gradually merged into a resonant hum, filling the air without end, its aftertaste lingering.
Could this be…. the true embodiment of the “Golden Voice Jade Resonance Sixty-Four Hands”?
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