Prologue
I like the color white.
When I was young, I saw something white and beautiful.
I must have been around ten years old. One day, when snow was falling heavily, I foolishly wandered outside, deceived by some crazy person who lived in the neighborhood. I almost got caught in an avalanche.
At that time, a white person saved me from being buried in the snow.
They had white clothes, white skin, and hair as white as the snowstorm that seemed to cover the world.
It was the day I realized that a person made of mere bones and flesh is not just a being living on the ground.
It was also the day I clearly understood what a martial artist close to my grandfather was like.
Though the content of my monologue seems strange, let’s blame it on my insufficient vocabulary for not being able to fully express the emotions I felt that day.
Anyway.
The reason I’m having this strange monologue is that I keep hearing strange sounds.
“See, this is why talentless fools can’t make it. How did someone like you get in here?”
Not this.
This guy just slapped my chin.
The strange sound I’m referring to isn’t this. It’s not normal to be having a monologue about seeing white after getting hit hard.
So the real reason I’m monologuing like this is something else.
[I’ve never seen such a terrible Taiji Quan before.]
Yes, this.
It’s like there’s another self inside me speaking to me, a voice echoing in my head.
Even if I cover my ears, I can’t block out the voice. Even in the middle of a sparring match, right before I faint from a hit to the chin, this voice remains clear.
So right now, I’m talking to myself to prove that I haven’t lost my mind.
[What kind of Taiji Quan is this, moving so stiffly? I can’t watch it without getting frustrated!]
Someone, please tell me I’m not crazy!
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