The Way of Restraint

Tai Chi push-hands looks very mysterious. When true masters employ it, opponents who make contact are sent flying and tumbling to the ground, making it seem almost like a fraud.

But Su Jie knew that this was a physical phenomenon, explainable by Hooke’s Law.

No matter how powerful an object might be, it has a supporting point of force maintaining its stability. Once that supporting point is found, a very small force can disrupt it, and the object will be destroyed.

This is the Hooke blind spot.

Such philosophical principles also exist in China’s Great Expansion theory.

The number of the Great Expansion is fifty. Remove one number from it, and forty-nine remain. Arranged in combinations, they can produce infinite variations. To fully grasp the mystery within, one only needs to find that “one.”

In the show *Pris0n Break*, the protagonist wanted to break through a wall. He used calculations to find the wall’s Hooke blind spot and very easily broke through the wall, despite its formidable strength.

Hooke’s Law is most frequently applied in demolitions.

To demolish a bridge or a building, calculations using Hooke’s Law are necessary.

The difference is that walls and buildings are static—their Hooke blind spots are fixed. The human body is in motion, and its blind spots shift constantly.

In truth, the ancients who invented martial arts and developed the Great Expansion theory were also vaguely sensing the existence of the Hooke blind spot in daily life; they simply had not formulated the physical equations for it.

Regarding the stance training in traditional martial arts, Su Jie had long understood that it was a way to locate one’s own Hooke blind spots, then conceal them or strengthen them.

Even in Iron Shirt hard qigong—the Thirteen Protectors’ Golden Bell Iron Shirt Dragon-Tiger Vajra Qi Gong—a “weak point” existed. That, too, was a Hooke blind spot.

Tai Chi push-hands was a process where two people, while pushing back and forth, would discover Hooke blind spots and directly disrupt them, causing their opponent to magically lose balance and be thrown or knocked away.

“Mr. Su Jie, you truly are like a god,” Takada said as he climbed back to his feet, having deeply experienced Su Jie’s skill in Tai Chi push-hands. He was considered a formidable figure in the Tai Chi world, yet Su Jie had toyed with him like a child. “Please teach me how to find the opponent’s point of force reception.”

“This requires spiritual cultivation to reach an extremely sensitive realm,” Su Jie said. “You must first quiet your mind and weaken the six senses. Of course, your own physical capability must also keep pace; otherwise, even if you find your opponent’s weak point, your body will not be able to follow through and deliver the precise force needed to disrupt it.”

Su Jie did not delve too deeply. Training in Tai Chi push-hands was not something that could be achieved overnight. Especially for someone like Takada, who was already at a high level, taking even one step further was extremely difficult.

“Alright. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to learn later. The conference starts tomorrow. Save your energy for that,” Old Chen said. “Today, we must rest and restore our spirits.”

“I will arrange for lodging,” Takada quickly led Old Chen and his party to the rear of the building—a small wooden tower with Japanese-style tatami mats, very charming.

After bathing, Su Jie lay down and found it very refreshing.

Old Chen seemed to be discussing something with his disciple Takada. No one disturbed Su Jie.

The night passed without incident.

Early the next morning, Old Chen, along with Takada and more than ten disciples, chartered a bus and headed to a gymnasium.

This Tai Chi martial arts exchange was an unofficial event, sponsored by several financial groups and organized by the Japanese Tai Chi Martial Arts Federation. It invited many Tai Chi schools and well-known enthusiasts from around the world. The event did not provide meals or lodging—each group made its own arrangements. This had been the practice every three years.

Nevertheless, countless Tai Chi enthusiasts participated eagerly each time.

For true martial arts enthusiasts, having the opportunity to meet masters and learn their skills was worth traveling to the ends of the earth.

In that small town of D City, countless foreigners crossed the ocean every year to learn Chinese martial arts.

“Oh, this year’s conference even has a buffet.” One of Old Chen’s disciples noticed a large sign at the gymnasium entrance. In Chinese, English, and Japanese, it provided directional instructions: the conference offered hotel buffet dining, located in a hotel next door.

“This year’s conference is sponsored by Hedao Group. I hear that Liu Shi, chairman of Hedao Group, will personally attend this exchange,” Takada said to Old Chen. “Master, you and Yang Shu are martial arts brothers. Our Hunyuan Tai Chi branched off from Yang-style Tai Chi. Liu Shi studies Tai Chi under Yang Shu. Their fame is growing, and they constantly slander our teacher. I expect that at this Tai Chi exchange conference, they will denigrate our teacher relentlessly. Master, you must guard against their provocations.”

“It’s fine,” Old Chen said, waving his hand as he entered the venue.

At the entrance, reception staff issued meal vouchers and other items to those presenting invitations.

At this moment, people and groups wearing various Tai Chi uniforms were continuously entering, all seated by the organizing committee in designated areas.

The gymnasium was very large, with seating divided into many zones. Each group had its own zone. It appeared that over a hundred Tai Chi groups had participated in this exchange conference.

Old Chen’s Hunyuan Tai Chi group was relatively large, with over ten people. Most groups had only two or three people. After all, many Tai Chi schools did not have the time or money to come to Japan to participate in such an event.

Airfare aside, lodging alone was a considerable expense.

Sitting in his seat, Su Jie watched the continuous stream of martial arts groups and enthusiasts entering. He saw some lone European and American foreigners walking to their seats, where labels indicated the name of a Tai Chi martial arts school.

This meant that the foreigner had opened a Tai Chi school in Europe or America and had come alone to Japan for the martial arts exchange.

“These foreigners truly love Tai Chi,” Su Jie thought with admiration. He noticed that the foreigners coming to the exchange generally had decent Tai Chi skills. As they walked, they displayed a lightness at the crown of the head and an uplifted spirit. Their lower stances were steady, like roly-poly toys.

There were also a few foreigners whose entire bodies displayed the tensing and releasing of five bows as they walked. Their bodies were unusually sensitive, their presence condensed, their perception expanded—subtly giving off an aura of “flies and insects cannot land.”

This was Tai Chi skill trained to a level of divine mastery.

Of course, even if someone had trained Tai Chi to this level, it did not necessarily mean they could fight. That said, if they had reached this level and then went on to practice various fighting arts, they would inevitably progress very quickly—any style, any sense of distance, any precision of striking—they would quickly master it all and become experts.

Another benefit of practicing Tai Chi was that it was not easy to get injured, unlike combat boxing and fighting, where injuries, broken teeth, and fractures were common.

“Yang Shu is here.” Just then, a commotion arose at the entrance. Old Chen nudged Su Jie. “That’s the current number one in our Tai Chi world. His realm has reached the Living Dead realm, if I am not mistaken. But he is not proficient in fighting. His practical experience is likely no match for someone like Liu Long.”

Su Jie looked toward the entrance.

A middle-aged man walked in, followed by many people.

The middle-aged man wore a tight-fitting white Tai Chi uniform. It was not loose and flowing but somewhat resembled a fighting compression shirt—difficult for an opponent to grab—which was a special design.

He had a flat-top haircut, making it impossible for anyone to grab his hair.

His whole presence was like a white cloud, drifting here and there, carrying not a speck of dust. Or like a clear breeze, blowing past without leaving a trace. Or like a waterfall, its rapid current endlessly scouring a boulder without pause.

“This is the number one Tai Chi master, Yang Shu?” Su Jie did not know much about the Tai Chi circle, but he had heard of Yang Shu’s reputation. “Indeed, he has reached Divine Enlightenment. But he does not have Zhang Hongqing’s murderous aura, nor Liu Long’s fierce fighting spirit. He’s somewhat like the scholarly, saintly aura of a well-read intellectual.”

The Living Dead realm was not necessarily achieved solely through martial arts training.

Even great Confucian scholars of ancient times, through reading the sage classics, cultivating their spirit through Confucian principles, and practicing self-conduct, could also reach the state of Divine Enlightenment.

Ancient monks who read Buddhist scriptures and engaged in meditation and seated cultivation could also reach this realm.

Even some elderly people, having experienced the vicissitudes of life, could also reach this realm.

The Living Dead realm was merely an “exceptional” psychological quality; it did not represent actual fighting ability.

For example, someone who reached this realm through reading and self-cultivation would, at best, have good health, live a long life, and possess profound wisdom, but that did not mean they could fight. To become a true martial arts expert, one still needed to train hard using scientific methods, engage in sparring and actual combat, and even experience bloody battles.

Then, beside Yang Shu appeared two men of comparable status. One of them was unmistakably Liu Shi of Hedao Group—a wealthy man on the same level as Xia Shang, who loved Tai Chi very much and had become Yang Shu’s disciple. His physical aptitude for martial arts was genuinely poor, but that could not extinguish his love for Tai Chi.

Whenever there was a major Tai Chi event, he would certainly attend. He would also provide financial support for Tai Chi activities and even produce various films. He had vowed to spread Tai Chi culture far and wide.

The other man was Japanese, wearing a judo uniform. His build was extremely robust, and he seemed to be around fifty years old. But looking at his physique, even a physically fit young man in his twenties could not compare.

*”Another expert who has reached the Living Dead realm,”* Su Jie thought. Such experts were rare in the world, yet two had appeared here at once.

He also recognized this judo expert as the God of Judo in Japan—the man who had mastered “air throws”—Takeshi Omoto. He was also Song Qiong’s teacher.

Takeshi Omoto had a deep connection with Tai Chi. He had once visited the birthplace of Tai Chi to study its boxing techniques. On one occasion, while eating, someone pulled away his stool. He sat down onto empty space and fell to the floor, yet from this, he suddenly grasped the theory of “air throws” in judo. His cultivation thereafter deepened by the day, and he defeated one expert after another in judo competitions, eventually becoming the “God of Judo.”

*”This man is truly extraordinary. If I were to face him under judo rules, I suspect defeating him would be rather difficult,”* Su Jie thought, observing Takeshi Omoto’s presence. He knew that this man’s realm was very profound, likely no lower than Liu Guanglie’s. Compared to him, Su Jie’s own realm was still inferior. His only advantage was his youth.

Of course, if it were a fight to the death, without judo competition rules, Su Jie believed his chances of winning were very high.

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