Went back to Beijing for the first time in 10 years — because honestly, I’ve been a horrible disciple. I hadn’t seen Shifu in person that whole time.
Originally, I kept telling myself I should wait until my school and work stabilized before making the trip.
Five years passed. Nothing was perfect.
Finally, I realized: there’s never a perfect time. You just have to make time. So I did.
At Tongzhou (outskirts of Beijing), my martial brothers rushed over from all over — from the West Fourth Ring to the East Sixth Ring, one driving four hours down from the north, another from Langfang — just to spend a few hours with me.
Shifu even brought out a bottle of Feitian Moutai he had treasured for over twenty years, to welcome home his youngest disciple.
At dinner, I tried to pay, but Senior Brother Gao slammed the table and said,
“Even if I have to take out a loan, there’s no way you’re paying for this meal!”
Every morning around 7 AM, Shifu and my senior brothers trained with me, tirelessly.
Shifu personally demonstrated every technique, holding nothing back.
He’s almost sixty, but every move he showed was full speed, full power — no “slow old-man punches,” no “elderly kung fu.”
For a two-minute demo, he’d go all-out — and then need two hours to recover — rather than ease up just to save energy.
His speed is still faster than mine. His strength, still greater.
It made me realize: my so-called “peak condition” still has a long way to go.
In just a few days, my face, eyes, groin, shins, body, and nose — every part of me — got a taste of Shifu’s fists and kicks.
One night while drinking, Senior Brother Gao asked,
“Have you noticed? Shifu always hits you with his left hand.”
I paused: “Huh? Oh… yeah, I guess he does.”
“I asked him why. Is he left-handed?”
Shifu answered casually,
“No — it’s because my right hand’s even stronger.”
We were stunned. His left hand alone felt like a sledgehammer — and he was holding back by not using his right.
The boldness of the North, the brotherhood of the sect — these were things I’d only read about in novels before.
After almost thirty years of practicing martial arts — and seeing too much deception and fraud — it was at Dragon Gate that, for the first time, I got to fully experience what it’s like to be part of a true martial family.
The friends of this lifetime, the brotherhood of this sect, and my family — even the ones who didn’t always agree with me but still quietly supported me —
All of it… was worth it.
What more could I ask for?
One final lesson I brought back from this trip:
No matter if you’re facing a thousand enemies, life’s hardships, or even the Grim Reaper —
Hit it head-on.
