110 Tibetan Martial Arts: Handle with Care

Du Ruo left with the two women, not giving the matter much thought. To him, it was merely a casual occurrence that happened when he was in a good mood. Although the other party was some kind of celebrity, he had never heard of them before and generally paid little attention to such things. If it weren’t for Wu Jing’s fame, he probably wouldn’t have cared at all.

Originally, Xiang Yuanyuan wanted to get Wu Jing’s autograph, but Li Qiyao pulled her away before she could.

“Du Ruo, where are we heading next?”

Back in the car, the three of them saw a crowd of reporters with long cameras gathering at the hotel entrance. Xiang Yuanyuan wiped an imaginary cold sweat from her forehead, relieved they hadn’t lingered there, and then began to ask Du Ruo.

“First, let’s fill our stomachs. I drank a lot of wine this morning… cough cough. Let’s try the local lamb soup, then visit a scenic spot. There’s no horse to ride at Qiangzi’s ranch right now, but tomorrow we’ll definitely be able to enjoy horseback riding.”

Rubbing his belly, Du Ruo reflexively mentioned the wine he had consumed in the morning. Although he quickly corrected himself, he couldn’t escape Xiang Yuanyuan’s slightly resentful look.

In truth, Xiang Yuanyuan had noticed Du Ruo drinking, but she was also worried about her own health, especially after enduring so much, so she had forced herself to hold back.

As Du Ruo and the two women ate and drank while admiring the scenery, his phone received a news push from Qiangzi about entertainment news.

At the same time, Qiangzi apologized for not having time to accompany them on tours, saying he might return late that night, and mentioned that the ranch horses would be back tomorrow, promising a proper horseback riding outing then.

The news push reported that numerous celebrities at the hotel praised and expressed admiration for the Tianma Festival. The celebrity who had twisted their ankle was even filmed walking freely, which effectively dispelled recent rumors circulating online about “Tianma Festival accidents.”

The incident was minor, and a twisted ankle was hardly a serious matter, but there was concern that someone with ill intentions might exploit it for publicity or exaggerate the situation.

Du Ruo’s intervention had immense significance for the celebrity—not only saving their career but also preserving the local image, preventing the wastage of substantial promotional expenses. At least many people there now owed Du Ruo a kindness.

For Qiangzi, this might also be a good opportunity, especially since he planned to return as a teacher and perhaps enter the system.

…

It must be said, the beef and mutton in the pastoral area were truly delicious— even Du Ruo, with his enormous appetite, was fully satisfied.

After eating, the trio visited the Tianma Bath River scenic area. Honestly, after witnessing the wild gallop of thousands of horses, the Tianma Bath River seemed somewhat dull by comparison, but it was better than nothing and only made Xiang Yuanyuan more eager for the horseback riding trip once Qiangzi’s horses returned.

“Burp—what now? Seems like it’s still pretty early.”

The timing was awkward. Xiang Yuanyuan, patting her modest belly after a large meal, noted that the three of them had just strolled through the town’s scenic spots, then visited the most famous snack street and eaten a lot. They looked up to see it was already seven o’clock, yet outside it remained bright, with no sign of dusk.

Yesterday, they were exhausted from travel, and the novelty of the roasted whole lamb distracted them from noticing this. Now that they had, the awkwardness of the hour became apparent.

“Let’s go. I’ll take you to visit a temple and meet a venerable master. Although I’m not sure if the temple receives female visitors, or whether anyone is still around at this hour.”

Du Ruo pondered for a moment. At this hour, there wasn’t enough time to visit other places, and returning seemed less desirable. He recalled the lama they had seen earlier that morning but hadn’t had time to speak with.

“Is it the temple where Qiangzi braked suddenly yesterday?” Li Qiyao asked.

“Hehe, did you two also go there this morning?” Xiang Yuanyuan smiled, speaking softly. Both she and Li Qiyao were perceptive but generally didn’t ask Du Ruo many questions, as their relationship was not quite intimate—just a little closer than ordinary friends.

“Yes, that very temple. It’s small, so they probably don’t mind the usual rules. Let's buy some incense and head there.”

Du Ruo nodded, approving their inquiry. He knew less about Tibetan martial arts compared to Buddhist martial arts, so he was quite interested in the lama and wanted to have a proper conversation.

---

The three were spontaneous; after purchasing some items, they drove toward the ranch. The temple lay near the ranch’s edge, not far from the bustling county center—just over thirty minutes by car.

At the temple entrance, the gate was closed. After tidying their attire, Du Ruo knocked on the wooden door.

“Dong dong dong—”

His hand struck the copper knob with moderate force, producing a metallic sound that echoed strongly enough to carry throughout the modest temple.

This subtlety revealed his skill: just this gesture alone showed that Du Ruo’s finger conditioning had reached a high degree of refinement.

“Coming—hello, we don’t receive visitors at night here.”

A young lama in his twenties opened the door. He wore simple monk’s robes and had clear, bright eyes. Mistaking them for tourists, he spoke polite but imperfect Mandarin.

“We are here to pay respects to the master. My name is Du Ruo. Please inform him.”

“Duoji, please invite them in.”

As soon as Du Ruo finished speaking, a gentle voice echoed from within the temple.

“Please, come in.”

Duoji gestured politely. Du Ruo clasped his hands and bowed in return, then led the two women inside.

The temple was truly small. Beyond the gate was the courtyard where Du Ruo had stayed that morning. Further in lay the main hall, housing a large Buddha statue. On either side were smaller statues, simple but clearly well maintained and spotless.

Besides the main hall, there were only two small rooms, one on each side—simple and clear in layout.

“Young friend, we meet again so soon.”

The lama emerged from one room, smiling at Du Ruo. In one arm, he cradled a small kitten; in the other hand, he held a small basin, likely filled with goat’s milk. The kitten, though held, stretched its neck long to lick the milk eagerly. The lama looked less like a revered master and more like a kindly old neighbor.

No wonder Qiangzi hadn’t realized such a master was nearby all these years.

“Master, sorry to disturb you. I wasn’t sure if you still received visitors at this late hour.”

“Duoji, please take these patrons to light incense.”

The lama nodded and motioned for Duoji to lead them into the main hall.

After Duoji lit the candles, the three entered, lit their incense, stood solemnly, raised the incense above their heads, bowed, and then placed the incense in holders.

None of them were believers or had wishes to make, but burning incense in the temple was a sign of respect.

Having completed the ritual, they followed Duoji outside, only to find a table and chairs set up in the courtyard, and the lama had prepared tea.

“The temple is humble; only this thin tea is available,” the lama said as he invited them to sit and served the tea.

The Tibetan tea was rich in color, fragrant, and full-bodied. Du Ruo, who had drunk Cantonese tea for over ten years, found it very pleasant.

Li Qiyao seemed to like it too, while Xiang Yuanyuan was less interested, finishing her cup quickly and turning her gaze to the kitten drinking goat’s milk.

The kitten noticed her staring, shifted its rear, and licked faster.

“Hehe, young friend, do you practice internal martial arts? Your skill is profound. Few achieve the self-generation of internal energy in internal styles, and even fewer display the abundant vitality and spirit you have.”

The four sipped tea in silence before the lama spoke, almost piercing to the core of Du Ruo’s foundation.

The distinction between internal and external martial arts has many interpretations. Some say internal styles cultivate energy, external styles develop the body. Others say internal styles emphasize mind and body, external styles emphasize fists and feet. Still others say internal styles focus on intent, external on force.

In truth, these views are partial. Originally, the difference is: internal martial arts use essence to nurture energy, producing qi through practicing forms; when qi is generated naturally, the internal style reaches a certain level.

External styles use energy to nourish essence—here, energy refers to kidney energy, or yang energy, generally replenished through diet—strengthening blood and qi from the inside out.

Southern styles train both essence and energy but lean toward essence, resembling external styles; Emei style trains both but leans toward energy.

Hence, the divisions: external styles, internal styles, southern styles, and Emei styles. These are merely practice differences without superiority; all ultimately cultivate essence, nourish energy, and nurture spirit.

“I just practice blindly and don’t dare claim expertise. This trip is to seek guidance on Tibetan martial arts, about which I know little and am curious.”

After his morning experience observing horses, Du Ruo realized how far he was from mastery and was much humbler than before, when he might have arrogantly claimed to be a master.

“Tibetan martial arts, huh? They are now rarely passed down,” the lama sighed as he looked at the Tibetan tea, then began slowly to explain:

“Tibetan martial arts emphasize skill over technique, spirit over qi…”

As the lama spoke, Du Ruo gained understanding. Simply put, the highest form of Tibetan martial arts values nurturing and refining the spirit through visualization and scripture study, aiming to transcend worldly bounds.

Next is the pursuit of skill power, strengthening oneself through meditation, breath control, and fundamental exercises.

Using forms and routines to build strength is rare.

They talked for a long time, with Du Ruo asking most of the questions and the lama answering, focusing on the core of Tibetan martial arts—the highest level involving “spirit.”

The lama revealed much without reservation, though some fundamental secrets of large monasteries were left unsaid, and Du Ruo refrained from pressing further.

“Master, I wonder… if you might be willing to show me a few moves?”

After a long discussion, only Li Qiyao remained interested; Xiang Yuanyuan had already gone off to play with the kitten. Embarrassed, Du Ruo asked.

After all the talk, it was better to feel the art firsthand. But since the lama was already eighty, Du Ruo hesitated.

“Haha, I’ve been waiting for this. You don’t study Buddhism or read scriptures, and there’s quite a bit of aggression in your gaze. I think you’re not here to learn but to challenge me,” the lama laughed heartily.

Just as Du Ruo feared a refusal, the lama shifted tone and said:

“But I’m quite interested in internal martial arts too. The last time I fought was sixty years ago against an Indian soldier. Let’s spar a few moves, but go easy—I’m an old bone now.”