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墨書 Inktalez
As the end of the sophomore semester approached, a Saturday coincided with a traveling film crew borrowing the Community Auditorium at Li Family Ferry Crossing to screen a movie. This event had nothing to do with me, yet it sparked a seismic reaction at home.
The leader of this film crew was a young man named Zeng, who lived just outside the school walls and was somewhat of a martial arts mentor to me. After the screening, he inquired about my family's address and made a special visit to our home. My parents welcomed him warmly, prepared several dishes, and invited him to stay for dinner. After he left, they sternly questioned me, "Who is he? When did you start associating with such a shady character?"
Their inquiries prompted me to reflect on how I had come to know him. The first time we met was when Master Zeng approached me one ordinary evening. I was wandering around the playground during my break after dinner, sitting on the only set of parallel bars and daydreaming when a man in his twenties strolled over leisurely. He stood in front of me, not particularly tall but wearing a slight smile as he asked, "Would you like to learn martial arts?"
In the 1980s, who among young people didn’t want to learn martial arts? It was like having a pillow delivered when you were sleepy; I immediately became interested and replied, "Of course I would!"
We sat facing each other on the grass. Master Zeng introduced himself: "I just returned from studying martial arts at Shaolin Temple. My master taught me Seventy-Two Styles of Plum Blossom Essence Fist, which is far superior to the crude techniques practiced in Ma'an Commune. I'm looking for a few people to learn this style so we can challenge them later. I've seen you through the wall a few times and think you could learn this martial art well."
Although I was excited, I retained some rationality amid my enthusiasm and hesitated to agree outright. Instead, I asked some seemingly silly questions that an insider would find amusing.
Sensing my hesitation, he slowly stood up and demonstrated a stance. "This is the simplest bow stance. Push me with all your strength from any direction and see if you can move me."
Though he was shorter than I was, I considered myself strong from years of labor; after all, I could carry full baskets while threshing grain during Double Grab sessions. How could I not push over someone standing still? I positioned myself in front of him, took a deep breath, and suddenly thrust my hands forward, palms pressing against his chest while using my body weight for force. The expected scene didn’t unfold; his body didn’t even quiver.
Not deterred by my first failure, I tried again. Perhaps he anticipated my attack direction and had braced himself for it. This time, I decided to circle around him, occasionally glancing at certain parts of his body as if preparing to strike but never actually doing so. When I reached his side from behind, I suddenly inhaled deeply and launched myself toward his seemingly soft side with all my might. There was a loud thud followed by an "ouch" as I found myself on the ground looking up at him still standing there without moving.
Laughter erupted as Master Zeng said, "You see? Even if ten or eight people like you came at me without any martial arts training, none could push me."
As darkness fell and fewer classmates remained on the playground, I grew anxious thinking about how soon the Evening Study Session bell would ring. Sensing my impatience, Master Zeng smiled and said, "Let’s leave it at that for today. Don’t mention this to anyone else. If you're interested, come back here tomorrow evening to wait for me."
The next evening after dinner, feeling nervous for a while, I walked back to the playground where Master Zeng was already waiting in that corner by the parallel bars. He didn’t scold me for being late; instead, he demonstrated a new stance for me to learn while gently correcting several key points as he explained: "This is the horse stance—it's fundamental in all martial arts. Once you can hold this position correctly for half an hour, you can officially start learning Plum Blossom Essence Fist."
Following his guidance to adjust my posture took effort; after finally meeting his requirement, I could only hold it for two or three minutes before giving up due to fatigue and embarrassment as I rubbed my sore knees. To my surprise, Master Zeng praised me: "Not bad! You grasped the essentials of standing so quickly and managed to hold it for several minutes—you're truly a good candidate for martial arts training."
After that compliment, he didn’t ask me to continue holding the stance but instead pulled me down onto the grass and took out a handkerchief, a coin, and a chopstick from his pocket. "Let’s play a game," he said: He placed the coin in the center of the handkerchief and folded it several times before holding it in his palm while letting me poke at it with the chopstick to confirm that the coin remained inside. Then he instructed me to keep my fingers on where the coin was located while suddenly shouting "Change!" before revealing his left hand—the coin had vanished! Stubbornly searching around on the grass for that coin while trying to uncover the trick behind this game yielded no results.
With another shout of "Change," Master Zeng opened his right hand revealing that very coin resting in his palm. He unfolded the handkerchief and explained the secret: First, there were props—a coin sewn into one corner of the handkerchief along with one held in his palm made two coins total; second was speed—he ensured that ordinary people couldn’t see the hidden coin while folding it by transferring the one in his palm to his other hand while leaving the hidden one folded within.
Knowing this trick now made me eager to try playing but despite my efforts couldn’t replicate it well enough; Master Zeng then told me: "In games like this, what matters most isn’t props but technique—those trained in martial arts find it easier. Nowadays many people practice martial arts; what do they train for? You see those who have trained fighting fiercely but martial arts aren’t meant for fighting—if they were then all practitioners would become street thugs! In reality, learning martial arts is more about improving your physical fitness and reaction speed; being fit helps you deal with any bullies while speed allows you to perform tricks for profit..."
Unintentionally distinguishing himself from those ruffians on the streets allowed me to shed any worries about practicing martial arts. For some time afterward, he started teaching me foundational stances continuously over ten days.
Just as my enthusiasm for learning martial arts peaked one evening under a crescent moonlight, Master Zeng told me: "One of my senior brothers has invited me to travel around Henan; I can no longer teach you Plum Blossom Essence Fist—just consider what I've taught you as fun practice."
Master Zeng left for over half a year; upon returning this time with a projector hustling around showing films for profit without any prior notice given to me about his return. When he arrived at our home with his formerly short hair now styled into waves wearing bell-bottom pants and exaggerated pointed shoes gave my parents an impression of someone unsavory. After hearing my explanation about him they sternly insisted: focus on your studies above all else—don’t get distracted or associate with dubious characters.
Back at Third Middle School after that encounter with Master Zeng one evening found me on the playground where upon hearing about my decision not to continue practicing martial arts he didn’t scold but instead performed Seventy-Two Styles of Plum Blossom Essence Fist at normal speed followed by slow motion before saying: "You never formally became my disciple nor did I teach you this set of techniques; now take this opportunity to observe it well as memento of our acquaintance." He mentioned renting space on street corners showing films where I could come watch anytime without charge.
Thus passed by Plum Blossom Essence Fist—a style once popular nationwide (reportedly core techniques taught by Master Hai Deng's top disciple Fan Yinglian)—without ever truly learning its forms as Master Zeng faded from my life leaving only lasting memories behind; even now I can hardly recall his name.
Recently high school classmate Yuan Suwen shared numerous messages about joining folk culture art groups in our WeChat group chat; during our conversation regarding this matter she mentioned having a master named Zeng Jiguang who seemed similar enough that it piqued my interest. However upon further inquiry discovered they weren’t one and same person—this Zeng Jiguang had previously been a teacher primarily practicing Tai Chi whereas my half-mentor remained elusive still unlocated.
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