The Art of Tai Chi (2)

The philosophy of tai chi is that, if one uses hardness to resist violent force, then both sides are certain to be injured at least to some degree. Such injury, according to tai chi, is a natural consequence of meeting brute force with brute force. Instead, students are taught not to directly fight or resist an incoming force, but to meet it in softness and follow its motion while remaining in physical contact until the incoming force of attack exhausts itself or can be safely redirected, meeting yang with yin. 

You'd think strong muscles were needed to produce a hard force but they weren't, the prerequisite was hard qi. Of course chi and qi which were energy of life weren't anything visible like beams nor could they produce any immortal like effects all they did was enable the proper and full use of the body.

Like switching from automatic breathing to controlled breathing, but on a deeper level. The switch for this was life energy. That all humans possessed.

Tai chi training involves five elements, taolu (solo hand and weapons routines

forms), neigong and qigong (breathing, movement and awareness exercises and meditation), tuishou (response drills) and sanshou (self defence techniques).

General tai chi of the popular found in mainstream media included or was broken down from ancient tai chi that Vicente was practicing, characterized by the use of leverage through the joints based on coordination and relaxation, rather than muscular tension, in order to neutralize, yield or initiate attacks.

The slow, repetitive work involved in the process of learning how that leverage is generated gently and measurably increases, as well as opens, the internal circulation.

The ability to use tai chi as a form of self-defense in combat is the test of a student's understanding of the art. Tai chi is the study of appropriate change in response to outside forces, the study of yielding and sticking to an incoming attack rather than attempting to meet it with opposing force.The use of tai chi as a martial art is quite challenging and requires a great deal of training.

Tai chi's martial aspect relies on sensitivity to the opponent's movements and centre of gravity dictating appropriate responses. Effectively affecting the opponent's centre of gravity immediately upon contact, is trained as the primary goal of the martial t'ai-chi ch'üan student.

The sensitivity needed to capture the centre is acquired over thousands of hours of first yin (slow, repetitive, meditative, low-impact) and then later adding yang (realistic, active, fast, high-impact) martial training through taolu (forms), tuishou (pushing hands), and sanshou (sparring). Tai chi trains in three basic ranges: close, medium and long, and then everything in between.

Pushes and open-hand strikes are more common than punches, and kicks are usually to the legs and lower torso, never higher than the hip, depending on style. The fingers, fists, palms, sides of the hands, wrists, forearms, elbows, shoulders, back, hips, knees, and feet are commonly used to strike, with strikes to the eyes, throat, heart, groin, and other acupressure points trained by advanced students.

He had extensive knowledge of meridians and acupuncture but as for medical uses he was intentionally ignorant. In general tai chi he was already a master strictly speaking, but he was barely at the proficient level of the Ling family style. He could utilize hard and soft qi to attack but his sensitivity wasn't quite there yet.

In addition to the physical form, martial tai chi schools also focus on how the energy of a strike affects the other person. A palm strike that looks to have the same movement may be performed in such a way that it has a completely different effect on the target's body.

A palm strike that could simply push the opponent backward, could instead be focused in such a way as to lift the opponent vertically off the ground, breaking his/her centre of gravity; or that it could terminate the force of the strike within the other person's body with the intent of causing internal damage.

He had naturally already achieved this but he was not proficient to the level of injuring someone, at most he could shock their body to a very minute level , similar to a vibration.

True orthodox Tai Chi was practical, there are forces holding the body together, the joints being the most obvious, you are taught to reverse the force within your does with varying levels of techniques.

The forms were merely the first stage of reaction to get to that end result.

Vicente had also practiced the Ling taiji to the elementary level.

This involved fencing applications and weapon mastery (he dubbed it such as it looked just like them) using: podao, qiang, dadao, dao and the later integrated katana; his teacher apparently added that one himself.

Mastering a weapon takes years so naturally his 'master' was merely at the level of proficiency or the elementary level. But it was the real world and not a novel so there were just some minor qualitative changes. There didn't exist anything like sword intent or will so it wasn't really a big deal.

A lot of things were easy in the form of letters and words but must couldn't comprehend enough to formulate these, and some phenomena were easier said than done. Like getting over an addiction, to get an A and not D on your favourite subject, to live life like you'd die tomorrow- your last day on earth wouldn't involve working if you were self aware and as it wasn't the actual last day, you'd end up broke and your free spirit, crushed.

Vicente abruptly stopped his thoughts as he entered into the streets. High rise buildings, the smell of oil and dirt, exhaust fumes, high pitched sounds bursting from the race cars that were as common as grass. Animals grunting, roaring or making whatever noise they did.

As the richest city In the world naturally there were several extravagant sights, people walking lions, tigers, panthers. Zebras turned pack mules, giraffes becoming chairs.... you name it, it was all here In Glates. The rich had nothing to do but be extravagant. Dangerous animals were merely pets for them as money hired men to kidnap them from youth and men to keep them in check with tranquilizers.

At some sights you'd exclaim at how it was an utter waste of money but this was that kind of city and the money was theirs to waste. He looked at the lazy fat lion passing him with the nerdy looking thin person with a real crown on his head. This place has no king so even though he might be royalty this wasn't his domain and such things weren't prevalent in this age.

The police and bodyguards all had several weapons in their arsenal that were necessary for the various types of troubles the rich petted and created. Nothing was ordinary in this place where money was practically on the streets.

Vicente had Reylese accompany him on a drive, yes a drive. He was unbridled in this city as he was one of the top 10%. A billionaire. Naturally billionaires weren't cabbages and this city was composed of 90% multi millionaires. He met into harmless accidents a few times but the Porsche was modified with next gen accident precautions.

Naturally public property was destroyed a few times but all he had to pay was a fine to fix it. As did everyone else. No one went to jail in this city, money solved everything. Vicente had a hidden violent temperament so he seeked bloody thrills no one was there to pick a worthy fight with so he planned to take a trip outside the city.

On an aimless stroll taking in the view of life he absorbed all he could, the smells, the tastes, the vibrant sounds, the moods of different places, the world seemed to be ever so big- Vicente sighed with a full heart on his limited life- He'd never see the world in it's entirety.

Then came this assault on the senses, blood, malice, wrath, sweat, stiffled screams, a place that could only be a den of wickedness and vice, came to view on this sunny afternoon.

"Mas Corrida, Blood on the stage and limbs in the face!! Come one and all to watch men become beasts and rip each other apart."

Ah. Vicente stopped. Playing with human life while wickedly laughing. Such senseless things weren't his scenery but such was the world he lives in, maybe that was a little bit untrue but everyone was crazy weren't they.

His desired fights had equality both sides can suffer the same consequences if they put themselves in that situation.

Fighting wasn't a game in his opinion but a survival instinct a lifestyle. He had no direct bone breaking experience but those were his views on the matter.

After a second of thought he decided to go watch.

"Oh, this young master wishes to enter, follow me, here your mask."

The man dressed in a butler uniform and jester mask offered him a mask. He didn't have any good feelings about this blatant hypocrisy where they desired blood but his behind masks to maintain their outside images.

Hypocrisy wasn't a sin as everyone acted like a hypocrite at one point, he too would act the hypocrite for someone or something worthy of it. A mask was cool as well. He had no desire to push his values on others so he'd just do as he pleased while others did the same.

He donned the red white kitsune mask as he entered.

A singular straight path on a red carpet that opened up to a miniature underground stadium, similar to cinema, or college, a circular structure with seats that spread from outwards to inward with a wide rectangular ring at the centre.

There were flashing lights and shouts but it was somewhat lacking as a fighting ring. Ordinary folk would be screaming their heads off with passion, horns and whistles, scent of junk food, videos to post on instagram but none of that was present.

It was eerily quiet. The rich, despite their masks couldn't let loose their innate wild side, no, they did but it was ingrained within to act upper class and not peasant like.

They ate refined tiny sweet biscuits and tea while observing the match down below. There wasn't even a commentator, which was like coffee without coffee beans. It was pure plain bloodiness which was really messed up in a way.

The vibrations down on the stage assaulted his senses, it wasn't like some anime where each fighter gave off an aura that caused the environment to ripple but more like a sound system or boombox sending its waves of emotion inducing drugs.

Two hulks were beating the hell out of each other on the stage, as a martial artist he now noted the lack of technique, obviously they had experience so the punches and hits connected and utilized around 60% of their muscle strength.

The sweat was dripping off their muscles and their eyes widened with beastly passion of pain and ecstasy.

They were both like cookie cutters same model like a car, 7 feet tall, muscular, tanned , bald. Their veins bulged to an almost disgusting level with the size of their protrusions which looked like worms.

They were middle aged and probably hadn't stopped fighting since youth and became body builders and somehow found themselves here.

In this den of icy amusements. This was neither a cartoon nor a movie, they were both humans of similar build with no superpowers so they obviously took some time to defeat each other, a fight spanning over ten minutes of labour. The man with superior tactics will win.

The stalemate continued for a while before strange movements began outside the ring. Something wrapped in a cloth was thrown onto the stage and the bald fellow with round serial killer face with creepy eyes stopped grappling his foe and grabbed the item as if premeditated.

Swing.

Clang.

Ring.

A resounding bang sounded as the bald fellow with the face of Solomon Grundy had his head indented. The crowd burst into a cacophony of claps.

"Tally ho, hulk man, a splendid win"

"Ha ha splendido"

"Encore"

"@$@$"

As praises echoed for that plain and underhanded match, Vicente got up to leave. It was unfair but so was life. It was our jobs as players in this twisted game of life to see such things coming. He foresaw his father's family pulling some tricks so he cut them off completely.

Others naturally saw him as a great way to further increase their wealth but the scene at the funeral back then killed two birds with one stone.

Bang.

Bash.

Bam.

The man continued to bash the grundy's corpse. Vicente turned to leave,

Aowuuuuuuuuuu

!?

A beastly roar echoed from the stage as Grundy got up and attacked serie (serial killer face) Vicente was surprised that he was alive but the outcome was the same. A serie with a weapon would destroy a grundy with only fists. The weapon was merely a steel bat with a peculiar end but it did the job good enough.

Aowwuuuuuuu

A beastly roar of despair echoed on the stage. As expected serie was about to permanently finish off grundy. Grundy was bruised black and red all over with a swollen eye. His despairing eyes had lost their sheen. He was unconscious. Unconscious but still fighting for his life. With an indent on his head.

'Hm. Why not? I'm supposed to be unbridled right.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He recalled his first life, the blind begging in front of the store his mother worked and that little boy he reached in his pocket wishing to take out a 1000 dollars and give it to the old fellow secretly and say, this is a 1000 dollars use it well, don't be cheated.

But most of the time, he didn't even have a single bill to spare as he would have no fare, he had coins but he thought of it too little and didn't want to gift a rain drop. He was conflicted, the little boy acknowledged his faults but didn't know how to fix his chaotic personality, would it be the right thing to give some coins.

Is it right? Is it wrong? Is it kindness? Is it hypocrisy?

His stance was no stance at all, going with flow- that little boy had a dream, to get all his desires and when he died, he would will his billions of dollars to the needy, as the world's first trillionaire. Whether that day came was up to fate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vicente grabbed a tray from a panda masked fat man acting as a waiter and threw it down like a skateboard.

He tilted it on the stairs and pushed off with one leg, redistributing his qi in his body on each flat interval every 20 steps, he descended in a mere 6 seconds.

He dashed to the ring and jumped in, twisting his body in the air to make his correct landing. He raised one hand," I want him."

He pointed to the shrill screaming grundy. His will to live was admirable and moved Vicente's heart to an extent. He always wanted to help the needy but he was previously one of them so he couldn't as that would be dropping a stone on his own foot but things have changed.

He could help and satisfy his vanity.

He could also use some actual muscle as a guard.

The ref was flustered, the crowd was eating up the fight so he would be paid handsomely. He hadn't called such an obvious breach as his rich audience loved to see blood. However all his plans of moving up due to his performance were being obstructed by this dwarf in a Fox mask. Alas, no one here was someone he could afford to offend.

"Sir... This is slightly diffi..."

"Get it done."

His attempt to salvage the situation was ruthlessly stomped. He prepared to call his boss when the red fighter lunged at Vicente, his eyes bulged with half glee half panic. If the dwarf was injured his current predicament could be solved as he allowed the red player to be killed (Grundy) by blue (serie). Although depending on the dwarfs background it could be his neck.

Before he could decide what to think, Grundy arrived and punched at Vicente, who dropped to the ground before speedily taking a wide stepped stance directly in front of the Beast like grundy, who attacked again, leveraging off grundy's force, he channelled it to knock him off his legs and caused him to fall unconscious with that one fall to the floor.

Strictly speaking into terms of size he was outmatched but with Tai Chi that gap was bridged as he was using his opponent's force, likening it to someone slapping themselves versus a baby doing it, he just had serie slap himself.

The refs eyes widened with shock as heated discussions echoed through the crowd. Yes, the body builder was injured but he was 6 times the dwarfs height and he had bigger muscles, what were those moves. None of them saw what Vicente did as his moves were too fluid.

In actuality they did see what he did but they couldn't comprehend it. Like a magician working his magic all they saw was, The end result which was shocking enough. Vicente calmly reminded the ref to get the procedures done, the fighters here were like slaves.

They were given contracts and paid money upfront otherwise why would they risk their lives. Though it was a mere US $40 000. He wanted the grundy's contract. Nothing was priceless in this world, even killing a president.

Outside the Windows, above ground, the real world. Vendors sold on the street, strays scavenged whether human or animal, homeless sleeped, friends walked, strangers talked, businesses advertised, businesses prospered, accidents happened, all went well all went wrong, the streets of the 21st century were in full swing.

Cars honking, water splashing, babies cooing, people stressing, cats being cats, dogs being dogs, the world being the world. The same as we knew it. The elderly found comfort in this as technology wasn't at it's current level in their younger days but this was still that world.

The main component of this all, was and is people. Their desires shaped the world as they were the dominant species, they were also subdivided into those who had more and those who had less. To take of themselves some people would do anything, signing a modern day slave contract was nothing as strippers still existed and they probably forever would.

As human nature calls for such things, the moment we are rid of all sin, is the moment we stop being human and become something else.