Eighty-three Forms of Tai Chi

Dian Wei and Zhang Fei, unaware of the truth, assumed Luan Yi had entered a meditative trance, when in fact he was simply lost in deep reminiscence. He recalled, in his previous life, learning Chen-style Taiji with his father from the twenty-first century for two years.

Speaking of Taiji, it is well known that there are several branches: Chen, Yang, Wu, Wu (different character), Sun, and He styles. The Yang style leans toward health and fitness, resembling a form of calisthenics, while the Chen style emphasizes combat and fighting techniques. The Chen-style Taiji developed and refined by Hong Junsheng is even more focused on grappling and practical fighting than the traditional Chen style.

When discussing Chen-style Taiji and its spread in Jinan, one cannot ignore a particular figure: Hong Junsheng, a native of Yuxian, Henan. His ancestors served as officials in the Qing court, so he grew up in the capital under their guidance. At seventeen, he dropped out of school due to poor health. He once heard that a sick opera martial artist had recovered by practicing Taiji, which inspired him to seek a teacher and learn Taiji for his own health.

In 1930, he became a disciple of Chen Fake, the eighteenth-generation inheritor of Chen-style Taiji, and trained daily, growing ever stronger. During this time, the master and pupil supported each other. When Chen Fake first arrived in Beijing, he had no fixed residence and stayed at the Hong family home. After the fall of the Qing dynasty, the Hong family declined, and Hong often visited Chen Fake's house for help. The two were inseparable, with a bond akin to father and son.

Hong Junsheng practiced Taiji for fifteen years. In 1944, he moved to Jinan for work, and after liberation, made a living by teaching Taiji near Daming Lake, Black Tiger Spring, and Thousand Buddha Mountain.

Hong Junsheng said, “Poetry has character, books have character; can martial arts be without character? The quality of martial arts depends on the practitioner’s character.” Thus, he chose disciples based on virtue, insisting, “A righteous heart leads to righteous martial arts!” His students came from all walks of life: patients, professional athletes, workers, soldiers, university students, and professors. From elderly people in their seventies and eighties to children of eight or nine, all were welcome. During instruction, he tailored his teaching according to each disciple’s age, physical condition, practice time, and education level, progressing from basic skills to routines to pushing hands. His teaching was witty, humorous, and deeply thought-provoking.

It is said that Hong Junsheng once told his students a humorous story: “Once, while walking home through a pitch-dark alley, I was suddenly knocked to the ground by a ‘Taiji master.’ After getting up, I called into the alley, ‘May I ask your esteemed name? Your skill surpasses even my master Chen Fake.’ Receiving no reply, I searched the ground where I was knocked down and finally found a wet, slippery watermelon rind. I bowed to it and said, ‘Master Watermelon Rind, I will diligently practice the falling technique you taught me today and will not let your instruction go to waste!’” Though the story was a jest, its meaning lingered for future generations.

The slippery rind, when subjected to weight, does not resist directly but dissipates force through parallel movement, causing the person stepping on it to lose balance and fall. Moreover, the greater the force used by the person, the stronger the reaction. As an apple hitting Newton’s head led him to discover gravity, so Hong’s slip on a watermelon rind helped him appreciate the principle of leveraging force—truly a fine anecdote.

With the dawn of reform and opening, Chinese martial arts entered a new era. Hong Junsheng’s reputation soared, and his pushing hands techniques earned him the title “Taiji Magic Hands.” Students from across China and abroad flocked to Jinan to learn from him, including many from Canada, Australia, Britain, and Japan.

Having studied Hong Junsheng’s martial arts, a Japanese student, Tada Hiroshi, wrote: “Watching Master Hong’s demonstration, I truly witnessed what we so admire. The martial aura he possesses is unbelievably elegant, like that of a great philosopher, containing the mysteries of humanity.”

It was said that Japanese warriors once requested to spar with Hong Junsheng, and he gladly agreed. During their matches, the warrior leapt forward, attempting to kick Hong’s face, but Hong merely shook his shoulder, and the warrior retreated, stumbling back to his original spot. Three times he attacked, three times he failed, never touching Hong, and finally conceded defeat. This was not because Hong possessed mysterious inner power, but because martial arts masters aim to defeat opponents in a single move. Each time, Hong anticipated and flawlessly defended, subtly implying a counterattack. The warrior realized he could not prevail and withdrew.

Luan Yi’s previous-life father was precisely a third-generation inheritor of this Chen-style Taiji, practicing for many years and achieving great insight. Later, he insisted his son learn Taiji as well. Though Luan Yi was reluctant, he had no choice but to train day and night alongside his father, mastering both routines.

Alas, since arriving in the Eastern Han, Luan Yi had not practiced this martial art, and now his memory of it was fading. Yet, some things, once practiced enough, become second nature—like swimming or riding a bicycle. Even after a hundred years, if one dives in, after a bit of adjustment, swimming comes naturally; after a short ride, cycling is effortless. Taiji was the same for Luan Yi: after two years of morning and evening practice, the Chen-style Taiji routines were etched in his soul. Even after years of neglect, with the return of memory, the moves gradually resurfaced.

Almost subconsciously, Luan Yi began moving in Zhang Fei’s courtyard: Preparation stance, Vajra pounding mortar, Lazy Tie Clothes, Six Seals Four Closures, Single Whip, White Crane Spreads Wings. The first round was somewhat rusty, with occasional awkward pauses; the second was much smoother; by the third, his movements flowed like water.

After three rounds of the old routine, Luan Yi was drenched in sweat. When he opened his eyes, he saw Zhang Fei and Dian Wei staring at him, jaws nearly touching their chests, their large bull-like eyes wide and fixed upon him.

Puzzled, Luan Yi glanced over himself, found nothing amiss—his clothes were clean, his hands unblemished—and asked, “What’s wrong, brothers?”

Zhang Fei and Dian Wei shook their heads in unison, then nodded together.

“So… what is it then?”

While he was trying to figure out their reaction, a voice of approval came from the northern gate—the one connecting the wine hall to Zhang’s back courtyard, “Excellent martial art!”

Luan Yi looked toward the source. This time, it was his turn to be utterly astonished, jaw nearly touching his chest, upper eyelids almost disappearing into their sockets, inwardly marveling: It was him! He hadn’t even had the chance to seek him out—who would have thought he would come to him instead.

The newcomer wore a green robe, stood nine feet tall, and his beard measured two feet. He had phoenix eyes and silkworm brows; his bearing was dignified and imposing. With that jujube-red complexion alone, it was easy to guess who he was: none other than Guan Yu, Guan Yunchang himself!

Seeing the strange expressions of Luan Yi, Zhang Fei, and Dian Wei, Guan Yu thought he had intruded unexpectedly and disturbed them, so he explained, “I was drinking in the manor, when I heard the clashing of weapons in the courtyard and grew curious, so I came to see. I happened upon this young man practicing martial arts, and upon careful observation, found his moves exquisite and profound, leaving me amazed. I beg your pardon for the interruption!”

Hearing Guan Yu speak, Zhang Fei finally recovered from his astonishment and noticed, without realizing when, a red-faced giant had appeared in the courtyard. He was about to rebuke Guan Yu, but Luan Yi stopped him, warmly welcoming Guan Yu and modestly saying, “It’s no matter. I haven’t practiced this routine in a long time and my skills are lacking. I ask this valiant warrior and you two elder brothers for your guidance.”

“Guidance?” Zhang Fei smacked his lips with grievance. “It is you, Ziqi, who should be guiding us! You were quite sly—just now, when we sparred with weapons, you pretended not to understand the use of refined force. Yet now you demonstrate such martial arts! I may not be the most skilled, but after many years in martial arts, I can see your routine is all about using refined force for fighting. Since you clearly understand it, why pretend otherwise? Are you toying with me, old Zhang?”

Luan Yi hurriedly explained, “There’s no such thing! I genuinely didn’t know how to use refined force before—Brother Dian can attest to this.”

Knowing Dian Wei to be honest and incapable of lying, Zhang Fei saw him nod repeatedly and began to believe Luan Yi’s words. Still, he felt conflicted: he found it hard to believe Luan Yi was telling the truth. In his own experience, it took him over two years to truly grasp the concept of refined force, yet Luan Yi, after hearing a few words and observing a couple of moves, had figured out its application? That was extraordinary!

He asked, “If you knew such a routine, why claim not to understand refined force?”

Luan Yi quickly concocted a story: many years ago, a ragged beggar passed his home. Seeing the beggar destitute and hungry, he took him in, gave him new clothes and food. Grateful, the beggar noticed Luan Yi’s innate talent and taught him the routine just performed. “That’s how I learned this martial art! Unfortunately, I was mischievous as a child, and after learning it, never practiced again. When Brother Yide mentioned refined force just now, I vaguely recalled the beggar also speaking of its use, which brought this routine to mind.”

“Good deeds are always rewarded!” Zhang Fei nodded with a smile.

Guan Yu stroked his beard and smiled as well.

Suddenly, Zhang Fei asked, “By the way, Ziqi, do you know where that teacher is now? I’d like to learn from him myself.”

Luan Yi felt a pang of guilt and replied, “After teaching me, the beggar master left without saying goodbye. I don’t know where he wanders now.”

“That beggar brother was truly remarkable. Alas, fate was unkind, and he ended up on the streets,” Zhang Fei sighed mournfully.

Guan Yu interjected, “Does this martial art have a name?”

“It does!” Luan Yi nodded. “The beggar master said it is called Taiji!”

“Taiji? ‘The Dao gives birth to One, One gives birth to Two, Two gives birth to Three, Three gives birth to all things. All things carry yin and embrace yang, blending energies for harmony.’ I observe your routine, and it fits Taiji perfectly! The art is fine, and the name is fine! To witness such martial arts today is the fortune of three lifetimes!” Guan Yu closed his phoenix eyes and laughed heartily at the sky.