Although what this martial arts school taught was a little gentler than the moves and techniques Uncle Yuan had taught Wang Yi—the kind that could kill with a single strike—the moves here were clearly practical for real combat.
By real combat, he didn't mean a match in the ring, but a genuine fight to the death.
Wang Yi looked around and spotted a young man in a white martial arts school T-shirt explaining saber techniques to two people nearby.
He held a short-bladed saber about a foot long. As he swung it, he said:
"When you watch martial arts films, do all the saber techniques look like this—swinging wildly back and forth, with weapons clanging against each other? Don't let movies mislead you. In a real saber technique, you don't let your blade clash repeatedly with your opponent's weapon."
"Think about it. A saber's edge is so thin. After a few clangs, it'll be full of chips. How are you supposed to cut anyone with it?"
"Remember, in practical martial arts, a saber is for cutting people, not weapons."
"I'll show you a saber technique now. Come on, attack me with yours."
The beginner beside him nodded, then swung his saber at the young man.
At first, the young man in the white T-shirt stood there holding his saber in a loose, relaxed manner. He looked as if his opponent could strike him at any moment.
But just as the other man's saber came down, he suddenly sidestepped, then slashed his short saber straight at the other man's wrist.
"Did you see that? Did my saber clash with his? I dodged his attack and went straight for his wrist, so he couldn't hold on to his weapon. That's how you disarm him. In saber techniques, it's called a wrist cut!"