As soon as my foot stepped outside the arena, a cacophony of excited voices surrounded me, the energy of the crowd pulsing through the air like a live wire. I could feel the intensity of their attention, their eyes filled with adoration and awe.
"Master Wang!" A young boy of about 12 or 13 squeaked, his face flushed with excitement. "That was amazing! You're my hero!"
"Your swordsmanship is legendary, Wang-Yi-Fei!" A woman with auburn hair cried out, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "I've never seen anything like it!"
An older man with a weathered face and kind eyes simply extended his hand. "Thank you, Master Wang. Watching you has been the honor of a lifetime."
A chorus of similar sentiments filled the air as I tried to navigate my way through the throng of fans. Their words, though repetitive, were sincere. Each voice held a unique mixture of awe, respect, and admiration for the spectacle they had just witnessed.
"Master Wang-Yi-Fei, you are truly the epitome of strength!" one shouted.
"Your battle was so thrilling! I can't wait to see your next match!" another voice chimed in from somewhere in the crowd.
Their words, filled with such adulation, made my heart swell. The arena was a place of battle, but it was also a stage, a platform for inspiring others. And as I looked around at the faces of the fans surrounding me, I saw that inspiration reflected back at me, burning brightly in their eyes.
Giggles and excited whispers filled the air as a group of girls, of varying ages but mostly in their late teens and early twenties, began to gather around me. Their eyes were lit up with a mix of admiration, fascination, and more than a little bit of infatuation.
"Master Wang, you're so strong and cool!" one of the girls, a pretty brunette with large brown eyes, squealed with excitement.
Another, a petite redhead, took a step forward, a bold look on her face. "Can I... can I touch your arm?" she asked, blushing. "Just to see if you're real?"
One girl, who couldn't have been more than 16, was bouncing on her toes in excitement, her twin braids bouncing with her. "You were amazing in there! My friends and I all cheer for you! Will you sign my shirt, Master Wang?"
Then a voice, more composed and mature than the others, interjected. "Master Wang, my sister and I have followed your journey since you were announced as a competitor. Your technique is exquisite. We're looking forward to seeing your future matches."
Amidst the fawning and the giggles, the fangirling and the fluttering lashes, there was a sense of sincere admiration. Each girl was united in their respect for my strength and skill, and their words, however giggly or flushed, were heartfelt.
Feeling the enthusiastic swarm of girls closing in, I made a split-second decision. My training and experience kicked in and, for a moment, it was as if everything moved in slow motion.
I took a deep breath, feeling the energy within me coalesce, and then, in a burst of movement that left the group of fans startled and blinking, I used my qing-gong. I dropped down into a crouch, then pushed off with such force that the ground beneath me cracked. My body shot upwards, an arrow loosed from its bow, and in a blink of an eye, I was sailing through the air.
The shocked gasps of my fans became distant as I effortlessly cleared the heads of the crowd, my robes billowing out behind me. For a moment, I was a silhouette against the bright blue sky, and then I was descending, my landing spot strategically chosen a safe distance away from the group of girls.
I landed lightly, bending my knees to absorb the impact, then straightened up. The crowd was still a safe distance away, the girls gazing at me in awe and surprise, their mouths open in stunned silence. I didn't wait for them to recover and catch up, instead, I turned and disappeared into a nearby alley, leaving my admirers behind.
Q: Have you ever heard of Qi-Gong?