I was really moved when I wrote about martial arts, so I will tell you a few stories when I am interested. They are really stories, and you can just take them as stories.

I am from Hebei, and many of you know this. In my hometown, there is a martial arts competition every year on the tenth day of the first lunar month. Each village is a team. They take their teams to the streets of the county to practice and perform for everyone. At the same time, they also

There are a bunch of old men who can get through it.

I don’t know the village, but I clearly remember that every year there was a village where the leader was an old man with a pair of maces.

There was also an old man from the village holding a pair of steel whips.

Every time the martial arts meeting reaches the busiest intersection, the old men from the two villages will fight with their maces and whips.

Let me tell you, it was really beautiful, but also really boring. Two old men were holding iron rods, you hit me, and I beat you. There was a ping-ping, banging, and banging fight, but no one was able to hit the other. In the end, they just dispersed, far away.

It's not as good-looking as a pair of swords versus a single gun or a bare-handed sword.

Two years later, the old man with the steel whip didn't come. I heard he was dead. Then the old man with the mace still went to the martial arts competition every year, but he never fought with anyone. He only went to the team of the old man with the steel whip's village.

During the cutscene, stand and watch for a while.

I was only a teenager at that time, but I could roughly understand what loneliness meant.

I asked knowledgeable people why there are so many people practicing steel whips, why no one uses steel whips and sparring with maces anymore in martial arts competitions. They said it is a blunt weapon, heavy and heavy, and most people don’t dare to play with it at all.

Something happened immediately, and no one except those two old men dared to sparring.

Two years later, the old man who practiced mace died, and I never saw anyone with a steel whip or a mace again.

The Wushu Association has been closed for twenty years now, and I don’t know whether the level of those two old men is high or low.

I am thinking more loosely, let me tell you another story.

My grandfather was a blacksmith. When he was a child, he learned blacksmithing from his master. When he was thirteen years old, during the Chinese New Year, he was captured by the Japanese and sent to a mountain fortress to fetch water.

The bunker was on the mountain, and the guerrillas often came to harass it, and the Japanese often came out to do sweeps. On New Year's Day that year, the Japanese fired mortars from the bunker on the top of the mountain into a town down the mountain. On the same day, the guerrillas went to

Shit in the spring for the devils on the mountain.

Don’t you think it’s weird?

That's right, the Japs' bunker was on the top of a mountain, and the only way to get water was to fetch water from a spring on the mountainside. This was what my grandfather and a few other civilians did. As for the guerrillas, they went to the springs to shit, which made the Japs sick.

Shiting was usually done in the middle of the night, but on the first day of the new year, the Japanese opened fire, which made the guerrillas really angry, so they went to the spring to shit in broad daylight.

However, on the first day of the Lunar New Year, the Japs fired artillery on the top of the mountain and ambushed people on the mountainside, because the guerrillas hated the Japs, and the Japs also hated the guerrillas who fed them shit.

Then the guerrillas were ambushed and two people died, one of whom my grandfather even knew.

There is a well-known martial arts practitioner in my hometown, and his weapon is an eyebrow-level stick, an iron rod, and the iron rod was given by my grandfather's master.

It was a pity that the guerrilla who was practicing with sticks could not kill a single Japanese. He was shot twice and died on the spot. He had no chance to rush to the Japanese and use the stick skills he had practiced all his life.

To make a digression that has nothing to do with martial arts, my hometown is in a small village. It was very small. At most, there were only more than 200 people. But do you know how many people died in my hometown village during the Anti-Japanese War? Twenty-one died.

People, this is the number of people who died in the battle between the guerrillas and the Eighth Route Army. The youngest is fourteen, and the oldest is unknown.

Let me tell you another story. This is something I have seen with my own eyes.

When I was very young, I heard that there was a cattle herder in the neighboring village who was very good at martial arts. This man was a half-idiot and an old bachelor who made a living by herding cattle for others. Later, this man went to my hometown village to herd cattle and took turns in

Each family eats and lives in an old house provided by the village.

We have all heard that this man practices martial arts, but no one has ever seen him. We only know that he practices secretly when no one is around, and he never refuses to show his skills in front of others. And this man is indeed a bit stupid. What use are we?

If that is the case, then it is a lack of strength.

One winter, the cattle herder ate and had dinner at my friend's house. Next to him were two buckets of water that he had just fetched from the well. After eating, he would carry the water back to his residence.

, and then while he was eating, my friend and I threw clods of soil into his bucket.

The cowherd said something to us and continued eating. Then my friend and I laughed on one side. Then while he continued eating, we picked up the dirt and ran to the other side and threw it into another bucket.

The cowherd stood up. He was very angry. He took his rice bowl and stamped his foot on the stone bar where he was squatting just now. He made a haha ​​sound in his mouth. The sound was very loud, which frightened my friends and me.

.

Then the cowherd continued to squat down to eat. After the meal, he washed the bowl and put it wherever he could. Waiting for my little friend to collect the bowl and go home, he poured out the dirty water in the bucket, went to the well and fetched two more buckets of water back.

Home.

At that time, many people gathered together to eat. After the cattle herder left, the people nearby were surprised to find that he had broken the stone bar on which he was squatting.

The stone bars are placed on the roadside in the village. People sit on them in the summer and squat on them in the winter. I'm afraid you won't know how big they are. The stone bars are used when building foundations for houses in rural areas. They are long.

It is over one meter, 30 centimeters wide and over 20 centimeters thick.

With just one kick, the cowherd broke the stone bar.

Then, less than a week later, maybe even shorter, when I returned to my grandfather's house from the city, I heard that the cowherd had been poisoned by coal.

That stone bar has always been on the roadside. The stone bar was broken because of the pranks played by my friends and I. How many years after the cowherd died, people in my hometown village still sit on the stone bar and chat.

Talking about how the cowherd broke the stone bar with one foot.

Until the village built a cement road a few years ago, the stone strips were thrown away.

I still don’t know what the herding cow’s name is. It seems to be Xi Niu’er, which seems to be the name. When I talk about him with my friends, I often lament that I was ignorant back then and feel sorry for him.

But do you know what is magical? The magical thing is that to this day, I don’t think that kick is so magical. It wasn’t until I just wrote the first two chapters that I suddenly realized that that kick was really magical.

Believe it or not, because these days, you are unlikely to see those magical people and magical things anymore. Times have changed, and those magical people have been eliminated by the times.

I dare not say how powerful martial arts is, because there is a lack of a martial artist to stand up and conquer everyone, but I know that there are strange people among the people, because I have seen them, heard them, and witnessed them with my own eyes.
Chapter completed!