He Hits Hard

"Xiao Chen, what on earth are you wearing?" The official escort frowned, just about to step over and lecture him, when Chen Qi beat him to the punch. "I looked up the dress code regulations for foreign-affairs activities. Both Western suits and Zhongshan suits are permitted, clear as day in black and white. I bought these clothes myself without spending a dime of public funds. That's not a violation, is it?" "You!" Fu Chi stepped in smoothly to defuse the tension. "Dressing like this is great—fashionable and handsome. We don't want folks in Hong Kong to think mainlanders are all rustic and unrefined. I'm wearing a suit too. Am I violating regulations?" "You're different! He... argh, forget it, forget it, just get on the bus!" Everyone boarded a minibus. Chen Qi sat right in the middle of a bunch of people wearing tracksuits, an absolute magnet for teasing. "Brother Qi, pin a flower to your lapel and you could head straight to your wedding!" "Oh boy, look at how shiny those leather shoes are! A fly would slip and break its neck on them!" "He even slicked his hair with pomade. Whew, smell that!" "Get lost, all of you! What is this, pure envy and jealousy?" Chen Qi simply stood up, spread his arms wide, and retorted, "To wear a suit, you need the face and charisma for it! Ji Chunhua, if you wore one, you'd look like a hitman! Xiong Xinxin, don't you laugh, you'd be Hitman Number Two! Besides, I don't know martial arts. It's completely natural and proper for me to dress formally. Quiet down, quiet down, everyone!" He finished, sat back down, turned his head, and asked, "Aren't I handsome?" "Pfft!" "Don't laugh! I'm asking you a serious question!" Gong Xue couldn't stop laughing and waved her hand repeatedly. Ge Chunyan chimed in, "Brother Qi, you really are handsome, but asking it out loud like that makes it hilarious." "It's my first time experiencing modern life, so I'm a little excited, alright?" Chen Qi was indeed excited, because last night, dammit, he had finally gotten to use a flush toilet and real toilet paper! The television even had multiple channels; he had even caught a rerun of The Bund, back when Angie Chiu wasn't even thirty yet... This feeling of returning to modern civilization hadn't come easily! He adjusted his non-prescription glasses. In truth, he was brimming with confidence about his look. In the parlance of later generations, this was called the 'cultured rogue' aesthetic—blowing Leon Lai out of the water, outshining Louis Koo, the ultimate Hong Kong heartthrob. The bus started up and headed toward South China Theatre. All along the way were towering skyscrapers, bustling streetscapes, foreigners at every turn, stylishly dressed young men and women, double-decker buses, red taxis, and massive neon nightclub signs... All of it left the delegation awestruck. Even just watching from the window, the concept of dazzling decadence had taken concrete form in their minds. Gong Xue was also gazing out intently. She murmured with a soft sigh, "Is this what capitalist society is like?" "Nope, this is called a semi-feudal, semi-colonial society!" Chen Qi gave her a little rundown: "Hong Kong only abolished polygamy in 1971, which was when taking concubines finally stopped being legal. It wears the clothes of modern civilization, but deep down in its bones, it's still running on the old ways of the late Qing and the Republican era." "Huh? Isn't that just nine years ago?" Ge Chunyan chimed in, "Hong Kong allowed polygamy all this time? Wow, back home women have been holding up half the sky for ages." The group arrived at South China Theatre in Mong Kok, right in the city center. Stepping inside, Chen Qi found the venue remarkably spacious, with over eight hundred seats downstairs and more than four hundred upstairs, totaling over twelve hundred seats. The stage at the front was expansive as well, not to mention the lighting setup. Fu Chi and Xu Dunle accompanied them, saying, "The reporters will be here shortly. Today we have not only our own patriotic media, but also local Hong Kong newspapers. They love to be aggressive and press with sharp questions. Don't worry, we'll step in if things get tricky. Now, let me introduce two martial artists: Master Liao and Master Luo. Both run martial arts schools and possess real kung fu. They've come today to lend their support, so let's thank them first!" The nineteen-seventies and eighties were the golden age of Hong Kong martial arts schools, numbering over four hundred. Both masters had broad faces, large ears, and dark skin, with lean, wiry builds rather than bulky frames, and both were on the shorter side. They shook hands with everyone, their courteous demeanor tinged with a faint air of condescension. Had it not been for the media publicity, they wouldn't have bothered to show up. "Let's do a run-through first!" "Later, we'll screen the movie first. Once it's over, everyone will take the stage for interviews, a Q&A, and then a martial arts exchange. Say, Xiao Chen, who are you putting forward?" "Yu Chenghui and Coach Yu Hai, while Li Lianjie will do a solo demonstration!" "Then let's choreograph the moves first. We're all seasoned practitioners, so no need for me to explain." And so, Yu Chenghui paired with Master Liao, who practiced Bak Mei, while Yu Hai paired with Master Luo, who practiced Hung Ga. The two pairs began choreographing their sequences in preparation for the upcoming demonstration. Both sides were well accustomed to this; running a martial arts school required publicity, and teaching students required sparring routines, so neither was a stranger to performing. Once they finished practicing, Chen Qi slipped over and whispered, "Master Luo, there's something I need to mention to you." "What is it?" "When you were just practicing with Coach Yu, he felt his strikes land a bit too heavy. He was worried you might not be able to take it, but felt awkward saying it directly, so he asked me to pass along the word. For the official performance later, you'd better wear some protective gear." "Wear protective gear?" Master Luo's eyebrows shot up, and he grunted in a gruff voice, "Are mainland martial artists that full of themselves? Wearing protective gear for a demonstration? If word got out, how could I ever show my face in the community again!" "Well, it's all for the sake of safety." "Don't mention it again! I'm not wearing any gear. He's the one who should wear it!" "Oh dear, that's so risky..." Chen Qi walked away looking deeply troubled. He then found Yu Hai and said in a low voice, "Coach, our Hong Kong martial arts peer is looking down on you! Master Luo just told me your hands are too soft, while his hit hard. He hopes you'll put on protective gear for the official performance later so you don't get hurt by accident." "What! That loudmouth sure talks big!" "Acting like a reckless fool!" Yu Hai's eyes hardened, feeling his dignity as a Mantis Fist grandmaster gravely insulted. He snapped, "You tell him that he should put it on! I'm the one who hits hard!" "Understood!" Looking thoroughly worried, Chen Qi walked away, found Yu Chenghui and Master Liao, and stirred up trouble between them in the exact same manner. Then he returned to his seat and crossed his legs. How easy did they think his job was? He was just adding a little extra flair to the show! *** Around ten o'clock in the morning, the reporters arrived. The local media was quite curious. The leftist faction hadn't made a splash in years; last year's Wrong Turn had caused a brief stir, and now they were putting on another premiere. It looked like signs of a revival. Without further ado, they screened the film first. It was the 108-minute version in Mandarin, which they could understand—even those Hong Kongers in later generations could understand it just fine, only pretending not to, considering English first-rate and Cantonese second-rate. "..." When Tai Chi came to an end, the reporters sat dumbfounded, completely blindsided. They had expected another old-fashioned martial arts film in the style of ten years ago, but it turned out to be strikingly fresh, even more creative than the current crop of Hong Kong action flicks. And it was remarkably good—no, extraordinarily good! While they were still immersed in that awe, the event got underway. A row of chairs had been arranged on stage. Yu Chenghui, Yu Hai, Li Lianjie, and the others had already changed into their training uniforms and sat down in unison. Good heavens, the commanding aura of mainland hidden dragons and crouching tigers swept over the room. Ji Chunhua and Xiong Xinxin flanked the left and right sides like a pair of door gods. Chen Qi sat on a chair off to the side alongside the host. The reporters didn't recognize him, and seeing him dressed in a suit and polished leather shoes, they assumed he was either with the leftist faction or an official from the mainland government. The host warmed up the room with introductions, and then moved into the Q&A session. The leftist newspapers asked the first few questions, and then it was the local tabloids' turn. Their opening question was classic tabloid style: "I just heard that most of you are visiting Hong Kong for the very first time. Coming here from the mainland and being confronted with the sheer prosperity of Hong Kong, what thoughts are running through your minds?"