The Way of Restraint

Chapter 4: Building a Foundation in Seven Days

“Su Jie, could you help me buy a phone in town? My phone broke.”  

On the eighth day, it was a rest day. Coach Gu Yang had told all the students in the training class to completely relax for a day. Rest and recovery were crucial after seven days of intense farm work to replenish their energy.  

However, Josh had a different plan. He designed a physical training regimen for himself that included push-ups, squats, barbell lifts, sit-ups, and planks. He didn’t want to waste time, but since his phone had broken, he asked Su Jie to go to town and buy one for him.  

“No problem,” Su Jie agreed. His training wasn’t as complicated, and he realized that practicing digging and hoeing was something he could do anywhere.  

The school was five or six kilometers away from the town, with no buses or subways. Generally, students had to either hitch a ride on a local farmer’s motorbike or run there themselves if they wanted to buy something.  

After eating, Su Jie decided to walk. On the way, he practiced the hoeing motion he had been working on recently.  

He had been contemplating the offensive and defensive potential of this move. Raising the hoe could be a blocking motion, while advancing and striking down could serve as an attack. When an opponent punched, raising your arm to block and then chopping forward could work as both defense and counterattack.  

The movements seemed simple, like the flailing punches of an untrained brawler. However, upon careful consideration, the technique embodied human instincts. Coach Gu Yang had thoroughly explained the principles of this move, emphasizing how to use spiraling force and leverage. Raising the hoe required an upward, corkscrew-like motion, while striking down had to be swift and powerful, akin to an eagle pouncing on a rabbit. Retracting the hoe required a grabbing and stomping action to flip the soil for deep tilling.  

These techniques, when applied to combat, could be highly effective.  

That said, Gu Yang’s instructions were solely focused on improving efficiency and reducing effort in hoeing; he never mentioned combat applications.  

Fortunately, Su Jie was a keen learner. He gathered information online, watched videos of martial arts masters, and gained insights from being Josh’s sparring partner. Over time, he gradually grasped the profound potential of this simple move.  

He yearned for a true expert to explain its intricacies, but he knew Gu Yang would never do so. Su Jie had figured out that Gu Yang’s martial arts class only taught methods of practice, leaving actual combat application up to the students to discover for themselves.  

Step by step, Su Jie practiced his digging motion as he left the school and headed toward town, ignoring the curious glances of passersby. In this area, martial arts schools were everywhere, and martial culture thrived. It wasn’t unusual to see people jogging, practicing kicks, boxing, or even performing somersaults on the streets. Su Jie’s practice routine didn’t stand out much in comparison.  

It took Su Jie a long time to reach town.  

The town was bustling, filled with shops, people, and even high-end hotels. Tourists, especially foreigners, were abundant.  

Su Jie had no intention of sightseeing. After buying a phone for Josh, he planned to head straight back. His summer break was only two months long, and he was determined to make significant progress in his martial arts training.  

“Thirsty. I’ll grab a bottle of water first,” he muttered.  

Covered in sweat from walking and training, he stopped by a small store, spent three yuan on a bottle of mineral water, and gulped it down. It was a hot day, and dehydration was a real concern.  

“This? Ten yuan per bottle,” the shopkeeper said to a foreigner who had also come to buy water.  

Su Jie overheard this and turned around, prepared to say something but held back. He knew that arguing with local shopkeepers might lead to trouble.  

The foreigner appeared to be a middle-aged man, around forty years old, carrying a large backpack—a clear sign he was a tourist. He seemed unfamiliar with the language and pointed at the water instead of speaking.  

The shopkeeper gestured “ten” with his fingers, and the man didn’t haggle, paying the inflated price before walking away.  

Su Jie quickly followed him and, using fluent English, said, “Hi, sir. The shopkeeper made a mistake earlier. The water should only cost three yuan per bottle. Here, let me return the extra money for you.”  

“How interesting,” the man said, turning to Su Jie. His Chinese was unexpectedly fluent, with the precision of a professional broadcaster. “Young man, I bet that money came from your own pocket, not the shopkeeper’s. Your English is quite good.”  

Embarrassed, Su Jie’s face turned red, but he quickly recovered. “I didn’t expect you to speak such excellent Chinese, sir. Please don’t think all Chinese people are like that shopkeeper; he might have just been tempted to make a quick buck. My name is Su Jie. The ‘Su’ with the grass radical, and ‘Jie’ as in strength.” He gestured to explain his name.  

“Nice to meet you, Su Jie. My name is Odell. I’m from Ireland,” the foreigner introduced himself. He was a tall, handsome man with blue eyes and a beard, standing nearly 1.9 meters tall. Su Jie, at 1.75 meters, had to look up to him.  

“China is a great country. I like it very, very much,” Odell said with enthusiasm.  

“Are you here as a tourist, Mr. Odell?” Su Jie asked.  

“No, I came to China in search of something,” Odell replied, his gaze growing serious. “Your name is interesting, Su Jie. The character ‘Jie’ signifies calamity or tribulation in Chinese, often associated with disaster and destruction. In Buddhism, it refers to the four great kalpas of creation, existence, destruction, and void. In Daoism, there’s the concept of heavenly tribulations. Your parents gave you quite a meaningful name.”  

Odell’s catchphrase seemed to be the word “interesting.” 

“Uncle, do you really know so much about Chinese culture?” Su Jie became interested. While chatting with Odell, he unconsciously mimed the action of digging soil and loosening dirt with a hoe. 

This was a recent obsession of his, thinking about how to apply this hoeing action all the time. 

“Kid, your gesture is correct, but your intention is off. This skill is called Hoeing and Clearing. It’s a martial art developed by ancient monks who integrated qigong, yoga, soft arts, meditation, and combat into their farm work. The most important thing when practicing is intention; without it, you can’t cultivate this martial art,” said Odell. Despite his foreign appearance, when he spoke, it was as though he were a native Chinese master—his Mandarin was far better than that of most native speakers. 

“An uncle who knows martial arts? This skill is called Hoeing and Clearing? What a rural name!” Su Jie was overjoyed. It seemed that this foreigner, Odell, was truly a master. 

“I’m a fight coach,” said Odell, stroking his beard. “But I’m out of work now. I see you’re a student of a martial arts school too, right? I actually came to China looking for a mysterious power—qi! In Chinese culture, no matter which school you’re from, you can’t escape the importance of qi. Buddhist, Daoist, even Confucian—there’s a focus on cultivating this ‘grand qi.’” 

“Really, there is such a thing as qi?” Su Jie thought that traditional martial arts, like Tai Chi, were just physical exercises, relying on muscle and bone training. As for other mysterious powers, they were all just nonsense. He decided to redirect the conversation. “Uncle, what do you think I’m missing in this move? Can you give me some pointers?” 

“What you’re missing is hatred and fierceness!” Odell’s Mandarin was fluent and unaccented. 

“Hate and fierceness?” Su Jie was puzzled. “Why would you need that?”

“Martial arts itself is for battle,” Odell explained. “The earliest martial arts were the result of our ancestors’ fighting with wild beasts. Without hatred, without fierceness, they wouldn’t have survived.” Odell set down his backpack, lifted his hand as if to swing a hoe, then let it fall back down. 

The motion was ordinary, but when it fell, Odell let out a roar.

“Yah!”

This roar was like a monster’s growl, causing Su Jie to shudder all over and his teeth to chatter. He felt as though the other person had, in an instant, turned into a fierce tiger or a ghost, full of rage to tear everything apart.

“Hate is the power born from the human heart when anger reaches its peak,” Odell explained. “The more intense the hatred, the greater the martial arts skill.” 

Odell put down his bag and demonstrated a simple two-line mantra: “When you raise your hands, imagine hating the earth for being without a ring; when you strike down, hate the heavens for being without a handle. Hate the heavens for being without a handle, and the earth for being without a ring. That’s the heart method in martial arts. Without this intention, your martial arts training won’t have any effect.”

“Hate the heavens for being without a handle, hate the earth for being without a ring?” Su Jie seemed to understand.

“Imagine yourself as a giant with limitless power, unable to break free from the restrictions of the world. You want to unleash your strength but can’t. At this moment, you feel hatred for the sky because there’s no handle and the earth because there’s no ring. If you had these, you could tear the world apart. In Chinese mythology, there’s the story of Pangu who opened the heavens for the same reason—he woke up in chaos, unable to break free until he felt such intense hatred that he tore the world apart,” Odell said.

Su Jie finally understood and immediately closed his eyes to concentrate on cultivating his emotions.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes, glaring with rage, his anger reaching its peak. He raised his arms and then struck down in a series of movements—lifting, digging, and striking all in one fluid motion. It was like a giant opening the heavens, a tiger pouncing, an elephant stomping, a shark fishing, and a giant with fierce eyes.

The ground trembled under his feet and there was a loud cracking sound all around him.

After finishing the movement, he seemed completely exhausted, his vision blurry with stars, gasping for breath as if all his strength had been drained.

“Such innate talent?” Now it was Odell’s turn to be surprised.

After a long while, Su Jie finally caught his breath. He didn’t want to try again—it was so exhausting, more so than pulling an all-nighter to finish his homework.

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