activa-t Chapter 6 Cultivating 3 Parts of Evil Resentment
Chapter 6 Cultivating 3 Parts of Evil Resentment
The room was filled with smoke.
Nguyen Van Trung was sitting on a leather sofa with his legs crossed, a cigar in his hand.
Across from me sat a Chinese man in a suit and gold-rimmed glasses, and the two were chatting and laughing.
Upon seeing Zhou Xing, Ruan Wenzhong's smile vanished.
"Who let you in? Zhou Xing, I've already been lenient by not pursuing your unauthorized actions and sabotage of the plan. Don't be ungrateful..."
"Detective Ruan."
Zhou Xing said calmly, "I was wrong last time. I want to ask the detective for seven days off to rest for a few days."
Ruan Wenzhong was stunned for a moment, thinking that this troublemaker seemed to have given in and was no longer trying to take credit. He even asked for a few days off to avoid trouble.
He immediately put on a smile, stood up, walked around, and patted Zhou Xing on the shoulder:
"You should have taken a break! You've worked so hard lately. Don't worry, even though the case is closed, I'll remember your contributions."
He walked back to the table, opened the drawer, and took out a silver dollar, placing it on the table.
"Take this money and buy some supplements. Take good care of yourself, and when you come back, I'll find a chance to move you to a different spot."
Zhou Xing picked up the silver dollar; his fingertips were icy cold.
"Thank you, Inspector."
"Go ahead, go ahead." Ruan Wenzhong waved his hand, smiling sincerely.
The door closed.
Ruan Wenzhong sat back in his chair, chuckled, and lit his cigar again.
The Chinese man opposite laughed: "This is the young police officer? He's not as unruly as you described."
Ruan Wenzhong slowly exhaled smoke, blurring his face: "Have you ever raised a dog? If a dog dares to bare its teeth, you have to beat it until it hurts so it knows fear."
……
Zhou Xing went back to his rented room.
He packed his clean clothes into a rattan trunk, counted out seventeen silver dollars and hid them close to his body; this was all his possessions.
He picked up the rattan trunk, locked the door, and under the cover of night, arrived at the Yuelai Inn, where he found an empty room to stay.
The next day, at the end of the Yin hour.
Before dawn, Zhou Xing was already standing at the entrance of the courtyard. He was wearing a slightly worn short-sleeved shirt, faded from washing, but crisply starched.
The morning mist felt like cold water splashed on my face.
After about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the courtyard gate creaked open.
Ip Man was dressed in a gray cloth outfit, with Ah Leung following behind, carrying a charcoal stove.
Upon seeing Zhou Xing, Ip Man nodded: "Come in."
The center of the courtyard has been swept clean.
"Today we'll discuss boxing techniques."
Ip Man stood opposite him.
"Wing Chun has three forms: Siu Nim Tao, Chum Kiu, and Biu Gee. Since you are a beginner, start with Siu Nim Tao. This is the foundation; all variations originate from here."
He stood up, assumed the "two-character clamp sheep horse" stance, and slowly raised his hands in a ready posture:
"Watch closely. Spread out, shoulder, and crouch—these are the three opening moves of the Little Idea."
With every movement, Ip Man subtly adjusted his shoulder, elbow, wrist, and finger joints, his strength flowing like a stream, starting from the soles of his feet, passing through his waist and hips, down his spine, and reaching his fingertips.
Zhou Xing followed suit, and while he resembled Zhou Xing in form, he didn't capture the essence of the style.
"wrong."
Ip Man was in no hurry, correcting each move one by one:
"Here, the elbow should sink. Here, the wrist should rotate. Here, the waist should twist."
Zhou Xing adjusted accordingly, fully opening his listening energy to perceive the stretching of every muscle.
After three repetitions, the posture was already about 70% correct, and after half an hour, there was no fault in the posture.
A hint of approval flashed in Ip Man's eyes, but he said:
"Stances are static, but people are dynamic. Wing Chun emphasizes 'listening to the bridge' (a specific technique in Wing Chun)."
As the saying goes in boxing: If the enemy doesn't move, I don't move; if the enemy wants to move, I move first.
How can one know the future? Listen.
Zhou Xing seemed to be deep in thought, as this sounded similar to the concept of listening to energy and clearing blockages in Tai Chi.
He told Zhou Xing to stand in the correct position, and then he walked three steps away.
"Close your eyes."
Zhou Xing closed his eyes.
Listen to my footsteps.
Ip Man began to walk around him.
Their steps were extremely light, landing without a sound.
However, when Zhou Xingtai's listening energy is activated, his earlobes move slightly, and at the same time, he uses all the pores of his body to "listen" to the flow of air and the slight vibrations of the ground.
Three steps to the left rear.
Two and a half steps to the right front.
Suddenly, the wind howled!
Zhou Xing instinctively turned his head, and Ip Man's finger stopped half an inch away from his temple.
"What did you hear?" Ip Man stopped.
"The sound of wind... and also, a slight cracking sound in your shoulder joint."
Ip Man was surprised: "Ordinary people can't even get into the door after three years, you are indeed exceptionally talented."
Zhou Xing thought to himself: Old Master Li's decades of experience in listening and understanding are truly extraordinary.
Ip Man took two bamboo poles from the corner of the wall and handed one to Zhou Xing:
"Hold it, and hold it out horizontally."
The bamboo pole is three feet long and as thick as a thumb.
Ip Man also raised his fishing rod, the tip of which gently touched Zhou Xing's rod tip.
"Now, listen for the rod."
As soon as he finished speaking, Ip Man suddenly thrust his bamboo cane forward. It wasn't a fierce stab, but a slow, continuous thrust.
Zhou Xing instinctively braced himself.
The two poles touched, producing a faint "creaking" sound.
He closed his eyes, completely focused.
What was transmitted through the bamboo pole was not only the force, but also the rhythm of Ip Man's exertion, the changes in direction, and even the rise and fall of his breathing.
Advance three points, retreat one point.
Sway to the left, pull to the right.
It's like they're communicating with bamboo poles.
After practicing for about half an hour, Zhou Xing's forehead was covered in sweat, his pores were bulging, and he could barely hold back his internal energy.
Despite the great effort, the rewards were plentiful; he truly integrated his understanding of the martial arts of listening to force into his own body.
Ip Man reeled in his fishing rod: "Strength precedes the opponent, and intention precedes strength. You have already mastered the subtleties of the bridge, but your fundamentals are still lacking, which will limit your abilities."
At that moment, the courtyard gate was pushed open.
Gong Ruomei has arrived.
Today she wore an indigo cheongsam and carried a brocade bundle. She saw the scene in the courtyard, but remained silent and stood by observing.
"Good morning, Miss Gong." Ip Man nodded.
Good morning, Master Ye.
Gong Ruomei placed the brocade box on the stone table and opened it.
Inside were two thumb-thick old ginseng roots wrapped in red silk, with intact rootlets and densely packed reeds, indicating they were at least thirty or forty years old.
She looked at Zhou Xing:
"My father asked me to bring this. It's for warming and nourishing the blood and qi, strengthening the body's foundation. Cut three slices and hold them in your mouth daily; do not use more."
Zhou Xing stopped his movements and clasped his hands in a fist salute:
"Thank you, Miss Gong. Thank you, Mr. Gong."
"You're welcome."
Gong Ruomei's expression remained cold and indifferent. "If you die in seven days, this ginseng will be a waste."
Ah Liang, who was practicing standing meditation, secretly clicked his tongue in amazement. What a grand gesture! All the medicinal herbs he had used in his entire life probably weren't worth as much as these two.
Gong Ruomei didn't linger. Seeing Zhou Xing practicing standing meditation and adjusting his breathing, she took her leave.
……
In the afternoon, Zhou Xing was practicing his stance when the courtyard gate was knocked on again.
The man who arrived was a strong, muscular fellow in his forties, dressed in shorts, with slightly protruding temples.
He clasped his hands in greeting as he entered, saying, "Master Ye, I apologize for disturbing you."
Ip Man returned the greeting: "Master Guo, you are a rare guest."
"I heard that Master Ye is in Tianjin, so I came here to learn a few tricks from him."
The man laughed heartily, his gaze sweeping over Zhou Xing, who was standing in meditation. "And who is this?"
"Zhou Xing is a young man learning martial arts."
Ip Man introduced, "This is Guo Zhen, a descendant of Master Guo Yunshen, a famous Xingyi master from Tianjin."
Guo Zhen sized up Zhou Xing a few times and smiled:
"Master Ip is becoming more and more casual about accepting apprentices."
There was no malice in his tone; it was just the straightforwardness of a江湖人 (jianghu person, someone from the martial arts world).
Without much formality, the two began to fight in the courtyard.
Guo Zhen started with Xingyi Bengquan, and the air exploded as he threw the punch!
Instead of retreating, Ip Man advanced, dodging the punch and striking Guo Zhen's elbow with a palm.
Guo Zhen paused, then changed his attack from a sudden collapse to a drilling motion, his fist like a venomous snake spitting its tongue, drilling towards Ip Man's ribs.
Zhou Xing watched intently.
With each punch and kick, Guo Zhen exerted force throughout his entire body, like a fully drawn bow.
Ip Man remained calm and composed, always managing to intercept his opponent's attack half a step ahead.
After twenty rounds, Guo Zhen withdrew his fists and laughed heartily:
"That was great! Wing Chun truly lives up to its reputation."
The two discussed the principles of boxing for a while longer before Guo Zhen took his leave.
Today is the third day that Zhou Xing has been impaled by the Ghost Immortal's Rope.
……
Fourth day.
Ip Man placed three water vats in the courtyard, smeared a layer of oil on the rims, and had Zhou Xing practice his boxing moves by walking along the rims.
"Strength originates from the ground, and the feet take root."
fifth day.
Ip Man lit an incense stick and had Chow Hang strike the tip of the incense with a straight punch, requiring the flame to go out but the incense to remain intact.
"Inch power is not brute force, but instantaneous penetration."
sixth day.
Ip Man tied sandbags to Zhou Xing's arms and had him try to guide the warm current in his dantian to clear the blocked meridians caused by yin energy while he was practicing standing meditation.
"The flow of Qi and blood is direct; where the mind goes, the Qi follows."
This continued for three days in a row.
Every day at the hour of Yin (3-5 AM), Zhou Xing arrives at the courtyard gate on time.
Ip Man taught him the essentials of Wing Chun: the tantrum hand, the wing hand, the fulcrum hand, the listening bridge, the seeking bridge…
Each move is thoroughly broken down and combined with unique training methods to strengthen the foundation.
……
On the sixth day at 5 PM, Sun Youfu arrived.
The alley behind Yuelai Inn.
Sun Youfu was squatting under the locust tree smoking when he saw Zhou Xing. He quickly stood up, but his foot slipped and he almost tripped and fell.
Are you injured?
Zhou Xing looked at Lao Sun's obviously swollen ankle and frowned.
"It's nothing, I just missed a step because it was dark."
Sun Youfu waved his hand and lowered his voice.
"Old Zhou, there's some activity. Ruan Wenzhong has been going to the British concession every night for the past few days. He's going to a small building behind the 'HSBC' office."
I inquired and found out it's a "Tzu Chi Ancient Books Restoration Center," frequented by foreigners and gentlemen in long gowns.
Zhou Xing wrote in his journal: "Anything else?"
"Two more bodies were found at the mass grave outside the West Gate last night."
Sun Youfu's voice lowered even further, "The manner of his death is exactly the same as Chen Shanren's. The higher-ups have suppressed the investigation."
Zhou Xing's eyes turned cold.
"Okay, be careful, you don't need to follow."
He took out a silver dollar and stuffed it into Sun Youfu's hand, saying, "I'll go back tomorrow."
Unable to refuse, Sun Youfu accepted the money, but hesitated to speak further.
"Old Zhou, have you really been recuperating these past few days?"
"No, I'm cultivating... a bit of resentment."