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墨書 Inktalez
Wang Bian shouted as he ran towards the troops, and a heavy feeling settled in my heart. There was no doubt about it; we had been set up. Sunday afternoon's return time was at four-thirty, and that damned Insidious Face must have calculated the timing perfectly to prevent us from returning on time. The side entrance for the armed police was close to us, and they only needed a few minutes to rush back and change clothes for Roll Call. We still had a mile to go! Plus, we needed to change clothes; there was no way we would make it back in time. The Medical Unit reported directly to the higher-ups, and the leaders from the headquarters would definitely be present for Roll Call this afternoon. This was a complete disaster.
Complaining wouldn’t change anything; we still had to go back, right? I just hoped that once we returned, the leaders would delay the Roll Call. There’s a saying: when it rains, it pours. Everyone sprinted back, and as we entered Camp through the side door of the Medical Unit, the Deputy Chief of Staff was delivering a speech after Roll Call! Seeing us covered in dirt and bruises made the Medical Unit captain turn pale!
There was no way to hide what had happened; the rumors were confirmed—those who lost in the fight would face confinement upon returning. Of course, the reason given was violating military regulations by engaging in a brawl. Three days of confinement felt like an entire year, and I felt so wronged; I was just a Military Doctor! I had barely arrived at the unit when I got caught up in all this—what did it have to do with me? Just when I thought I might have to write a self-criticism, the captain led me out of the confinement room and directly towards the commander’s office. As he knocked on the Commander’s door and announced our arrival, I wondered if I was about to be expelled.
When the captain closed the door behind us, my heart raced. The Commander was meeting with a Cadet, and I had no idea why. Was I really going to be dismissed? That seemed unlikely; fights happened all the time. Just as my mind spiraled into worry, the Commander suddenly looked up and said, “Have a seat.” Have a seat? I truly doubted my ears. Fortunately, the Commander didn’t delve into whether or not I would sit; he simply stared at me and asked, “How long have you been in the unit?”
I honestly replied, “Three months.”
“Do you have any military specialties?”
“I don’t think so,” I answered truthfully.
“Well, that makes things difficult,” sighed the Commander before asking, “Which type of weaponry are you most familiar with?” To be honest, I wasn’t familiar with any of them, but if forced to choose, I would pick weaponry since having something in hand always gave me a sense of security. Plus, I had dabbled in Nunchaku during college—not that it was for anything serious; it was more for show. “Uh… weaponry,” I stammered.
“Oh? Which kind of weaponry?”
“Nunchaku.”
Silence followed for what felt like an eternity before the Commander spoke again. “Starting tomorrow for one month, you will join the Special Operations Unit’s reconnaissance platoon under Squad Leader Bi to practice weaponry for a month. As for what you’ll practice, listen to his arrangements. After one month, there will be a mission for you. Alright, you can leave now.”
“Why me?” In confusion, I stumbled out without even being allowed back to the Medical Unit. A Lifeguard carried my bedding over to the Reconnaissance Platoon and instructed me to report there directly. Fortunately, Squad Leader Bi who received me was around my age—he graduated from Stone Finger University four years ago and came here a year before me. Old Bi (let me call him that; his name is quite cute and he probably wouldn’t want it publicized) is from Hebei, not very tall but with a rosy complexion who greets everyone with a hearty laugh—that was my first impression of him. The Commander had already briefed him to make sure I followed his arrangements.
Thus began my month-long stay in the Reconnaissance Platoon. During this time, Old Bi diligently fulfilled the Commander’s orders; every subject was packed full of training sessions. Besides regular Five Kilometers runs and physical training sessions each morning and afternoon consisting of five sets: one hundred push-ups, one hundred sit-ups, one hundred single-leg squats, one hundred pull-ups (on a bar), one hundred 100-meter sprints, and one hundred 50-meter shuttle runs. There was also a training called jump rope where warriors would swing ropes at different speeds and directions while you had to time your jumps perfectly; if you took too long, you’d be punished by carrying five-kilogram sandbags for five kilometers.
Every night’s weaponry training consisted of staff techniques—specifically using a staff at eye level. Old Bi taught me this family tradition of staff techniques passed down through generations without any formal introduction but with great power suitable for both fitness and self-defense. Personally, I felt like the Commander intended for me to participate in some kind of performance or show; however, if it were purely for display purposes, Old Bi seemed much more skilled than I was! Once someone has their own assumptions about something, they often reject or overlook other possibilities. Young people tend to have high spirits and are very interested in new things. Coupled with my basic knowledge of Nunchaku from before, I wasn’t slow on picking things up—I quickly became fluent in basic routines.
However, practice became monotonous: chopping strikes, sweeping strikes, and lifting strikes formed one combination that lasted an entire month with each technique practiced over a thousand times individually during solo drills focusing on power generation. Then there were single-handed strikes involving thrusts and jabs as another combination where emphasis lay on coordination! Starting from week three: thrusts were practiced fifteen hundred times each while jabs were practiced five hundred times each; then week four: jabs were practiced fifteen hundred times while thrusts were practiced five hundred times each again.
In fact, during those first two weeks of practice my hands trembled so much that I struggled to hold onto bowls while eating or couldn’t scrub clothes properly while washing them—the struggle was real!
The reason why Long Staff techniques can be mastered quickly lies in their simplicity: “True teachings can be summed up in one sentence while false teachings fill volumes.” The more genuine martial arts techniques are often simpler rather than complex and can be grasped quickly. In terms of teaching staff techniques specifically—Old Bi proved himself an excellent teacher; his family’s traditional staff techniques lacked complicated routines found in ordinary martial arts but instead featured only refined offensive and defensive patterns emphasizing swift attacks capable of breaking through defenses with one strike while defense relied on movement that could counter any attack without changing form.
Even practicing four hours every night at such intensity meant that despite improving my physical condition significantly—I still struggled to keep up! Yet Old Bi remained relentless with my training often sparring against me which left me bruised all over—my face swollen and body marked with purple spots.
I once asked Old Bi why we needed such complex techniques when simpler ones sufficed for performances; where else could these skills be applied? He always smiled without answering which left me puzzled—I never imagined what awaited just one month later would be so intense that it would leave an indelible mark on my memory.
I remember during those last three nights when Old Bi looked serious as he told me about his family’s secret technique—a powerful strike not meant for casual use unless absolutely necessary; he hadn’t planned on teaching it but reconsidered thinking about potential emergencies—it took him some time before deciding to teach it while repeatedly cautioning me not to use it unless absolutely required.
This secret technique turned out to be quite simple: breaking the staff! Old Bi’s staff resembled those made from Indonesian rattan—very flexible—with a segment designed to snap apart when pressed at a specific button creating two separate pieces connected by chains which could catch opponents off guard due to its unexpected nature.
I didn’t think much of it—such underhanded tactics seemed unnecessary!
The month-long training had come to an end, and my suspicions were largely confirmed. The unit announced a New Year's Day reunion with surrounding units, and in addition to a few co-building units, they specifically invited members of the Armed Police Corps to participate. It was all happening on our unit's playground. However, what I didn't expect was that I wasn't going to perform; instead, I was called back to the Medical Unit as a Military Doctor to ensure everyone's attendance. Thanks to my profession, our medical station was right next to the podium, offering an excellent view.
I remember that although the wind was a bit strong, the sun was shining brightly. With many girls from the co-building units present, the atmosphere was lively as both units energetically showcased their performances. The Armed Police's Arresting Performance and Combat Sports drew waves of screams from the girls, while our Individual Weighted Relay Race (shouldering sandbags for Flood Control) impressed everyone with gasps of admiration. The excitement in the air grew as both sides kept calling out, "Come on! Come on!"
As the performances continued, one act featured the Armed Police's Anti-Explosive Baton Technique. A formation of 64 individuals executed the technique in perfect unison, their movements crisp and straightforward, creating a grand spectacle. To my surprise, the leader of this group was none other than the Insidious Face. As they concluded their performance, I couldn't help but stare at him; aside from his triangular eyes, he wasn't so bad-looking after all. Just then, the Commander spoke up. "The military quality of our Brother Unit is impressive! Li Chief of Staff, who is that leading the team?"
"Oh, that leader is named Zhang Xing; he's currently an officer in the Training Division. He has excellent skills and used to be a martial arts instructor at the grassroots level. His military quality is top-notch; we just transferred him from the Special Police Unit's training department," introduced Colonel Li Chief of Staff.
"Leader, since everyone is having such a good time, how about we put on a show for everyone?"
"Oh? What do you suggest, Commander?" Li Chief of Staff asked with interest.
"How about we find a comrade to spar with Officer Zhang? Hahaha! These kids can be quite troublesome; they're all so proud and have given you quite a bit of trouble, haven't they?" Commander laughed heartily.
Li Chief of Staff chuckled knowingly. "Old Wang, if we're really going to compete, it might not be appropriate; your Army doesn't seem to excel in free fighting."
"Don't worry about it; it's just for fun and to entertain everyone. I have a brother who's good with sticks; he has some connection with Officer Zhang. Let's make it the final act," Commander replied with a smile.
Li Chief of Staff laughed and whispered something to an aide nearby, who immediately ran off toward the audience. At that moment, Commander suddenly shouted, "Wang Wei!"
"Here!" I instinctively responded and quickly ran to the front of the stage. Commander looked at me and smiled, "Wang Wei, grab a stick and go have some fun with Zhang Xing."
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