by Rene Ritchie
Contribution, 1999

he bus pulled over next to a large local restaurant. The trip had been long, some four hours. We'd left Kowloon early in the morning and reached Guangzhou just after lunchtime. From the crowded streets of Hong Kong, we had traveled past the scenic mountains of the New Territories, the desolate concrete towers of Shenzhen, the pastoral Guangdong countryside, and finally the urban sprawl of Guangzhou.

We emerged onto the street, dragging our bags and stretching our legs as we got our bearings. The area we were in resembled a western Chinatown, but greatly out of scale. It was larger and far vaster and yet at the same time smaller and more intimate. The intersection beside us was busy, with vehicles motoring noisily by in all directions, going both straight and turning, without benefit of any visible traffic signals. Between the cars, buses, trucks and vans wove an endless stream of pedestrians. Around them, framing the streets, drove the innumerable motorcycles and bicycles.

After a brief phone call to announce our arrival, my friend signaled one of the passing deep red taxicabs. We quickly boarded the smallish Lada and told the driver our destination. Though the place we sought was just off the main street we were currently on, the driver was unfamiliar with it and hence every few blocks we paused for my friend to check the directions with passers by. Though the time crept slowly, it was perhaps only some ten minutes later when we found the proper side-road.

After we paid the driver we exited the vehicle and made our way into the maze-like side street. Almost a community unto itself, inside the alleyway we saw families sitting down to lunch, workers making repairs, school children going through calisthenics, and a variety of other people and activities. After pausing several times again to ask for directions we finally found ourselves in front of the apartment house we sought, the home of our sigung (grand-teacher), Sum Nung.

Born in South America in 1925, Sum Nung was brought to Foshan, Guangdong as a child so that his family name would continue in its land of origin. The Japanese occupation caused much hardship for Sum Nung's family, cutting them off from their relatives abroad. To help support his family, Sum Nung took a job at Tin Hoi, a local restaurant in which his aunt was part owner. Due to his background, however, Sum Nung became a favored target for bullies. This led to his aunt asking the restaurant's dim sum chef to teach her nephew the martial arts. She hoped that by doing so, he might better be able to defend himself. Thus, in 1938, Sum Nung began his journey in wing chun kuen.

The chef's name was Cheung Bo, a fearsome fighter by reputation, and he was one of the very few to teach wing chun kuen publicly in Foshan. Large and powerful, he traced his lineage back through Nationalist Army doctor Wai Yuk-Sang to Ngao Si of the Chopstick Street Meat Market, to Imperial marshal Fung Siu-Ching. From Cheung, Sum Nung learned wing chun kuen's separate techniques, wooden dummy, pole, and double knives. He also gained experience using his art in self-defense, sometimes against knife-wielding opponents. In 1940, When he had taught Sum Nung all he knew, Cheung introduced him to his friend, wing chun kuen grandmaster Yuen Kay-San, to continue his studies.

Yuen Kay-San was a stark contrast to Cheung Bo. Older and more slender, he was very reluctant to teach the wing chun kuen he'd learned from Foshan constable Fok Bo-Chuen and from Fung Siu-Ching. Nevertheless, Yuen took an interest in Sum Nung and taught him the three boxing sets, wooden dummy set, six-and-a-half point pole, the parallel shaped yang clamping knives, rolling arms, fighting tactics, medicine and other skills. Yuen also helped Sum Nung develop his fighting spirit through successful encounters with famed Southern boxers and wrestlers. By 1943, Sum Nung had made much progress and firmly established his reputation, and had begun teaching students of his own.

Alongside his wing chun kuen, Sum Nung was also studying Chinese medicine from Cheung Bo's teacher, Dr. Wai Yuk-Sang. Later in life, Wai Yuk-Sang converted to Taoism and out of a sense of balance, taught Sum Nung the kidney breathing returns to source qigong exercises.

Around 1945, Sum Nung moved to the nearby provincial capitol of Guangzhou to establish his medical practice. In the beginning, to help make ends meet, he taught wing chun kuen to members of local trade-worker unions. Sum Nung continued to travel back and forth to Foshan on the weekends to visit Cheung Bo and train under Yuen Kay-San. This continued until Yuen Kay-San passed away in 1956.

In Guangzhou, encounters with other local practitioners helped grow his reputation and attract more and more students. Eventually, hundreds became involved in almost weekly challenge matches. This, and concerns over wing chun kuen's effectiveness in countering the seizing and holding techniques of the police lead to the local government's banning of wing chun kuen in the city.

Over the following years and through the turbulent times of the Cultural Revolution, grandmaster Sum Nung continued to teach wing chun kuen privately, not wanting to attract attention. When some of his students moved to Hong Kong in the late-60s and early-70s, they used the name Guangzhou Wing Chun Kuen to both distinguish their branch and to maintain the privacy of grandmaster Sum Nung, still in the Mainland.

Along with seminars in Hong Kong in the mid-80s, Australia in the mid-90s, and the U.S. in the late-90s, grandmaster Sum Nung has continued spreading the art of his ancestors in Shenzhen and Guangzhou to this day.

It was with this great legacy in mind that we approached the door to the building and my friend rang the bell.

"Yes?" came a woman's voice from the intercom.

"Sitai (grand-teacher's wife)," my friend responded, "we're here!"

It was pitch black inside the building, and we navigated our way up the six floors carefully, yet with great anticipation. The door was ajar when we reached it, and when my friend called out, we were told to enter.

I had seen grandmaster Sum Nung's image before. My teacher had shown me pictures of his teacher from the late-60s and early-80s, and I'd seen some footage of him demonstrating and teaching, but it all paled in the face of the reality.

Grandmaster Sum Nung sat on a short sofa to our right, beneath a large engraved mirror, a gift from several of his students. Good-looking in both the Chinese and Latin manners, with strong features and slightly peppered silver hair, he wore a white shirt that bore the symbol of his wing chun kuen association.

"Come in, come in," he said, his voice deep and resonant. "Put your bags down and sit," he added, pointing to a counter against the far wall and some stools at the table behind which he sat.

Sit down we did, and repeated to do, for several days, a few trips to local restaurants not withstanding. Over the course of this time, in the warmth and hospitality of the grandmaster, his wife, and son, and several of his current students, we were afforded an invaluable glimpse of Sum Nung's art.

At an age of 74, grandmaster Sum Nung moved with a grace and refinement matched only by the bone shattering power the movements produced. "Touch my arm," grandmaster Sum Nung offered after demonstrating a lightning quick, body shaking, cleaving hand. "See," he explained while demonstrating, "you do not require muscle." Amazingly, as he repeated the movement at full speed and force, with a forearm like cotton-wrapped steel, his upper-arm remained completely relaxed.

Grandmaster Sum Nung was not content to merely show his own skills, but with improving those of his students and descendants as much as possible. This entailed lengthy explanations of the concepts and hands on practice. "It's very difficult to teach wing chun kuen," he mentioned while adjusting our techniques. "It has to be one on one." Indeed, grandmaster Sum Nung's skill as a teacher was on par with his skill as an applicant. No detail was too small, no point to subtle to escape his expert attention. When demonstrating and explaining alone was not enough, he'd move your body for you, letting you feel. "You see, I won't just teach you, I'll sweat with you!" he informed us with a broad smile.

When he wasn't demonstrating, grandmaster Sum Nung recounted tales from the early days of wing chun kuen. Many stories have been passed down in the wing chun world but few were really there to witness them, few really knew the people involved. Under the story-telling power of grandmaster Sum Nung, names and events we'd seen previously as fragments of fact and fiction came vividly to life. Whether the events were from 6 years previous or 60, not the smallest of details escaped his attention - from the manner of clothing worn, to the facial expressions used, to the types of food served at dinners. When words alone did not suffice, grandmaster Sum Nung would leap to his feet and act out the scene before our eyes.

Combined with the hospitality of his wife, and the kindness of his son, Sum Dek, in demonstrating forms and techniques for us, the week left a lasting impression.

All in all, grandmaster Sum Nung's peerless skill and generous nature made for an unforgettable week. We received more from him, his family, and his students than we could possibly digest and we deeply regretted having to leave their company to return to Hong Kong in time for my flight back to Montreal.

We waited until the last possible moment before leaving, running through the crowded streets, weaving between people and objects, to make it to our bus in time. As the bus motored its way out of Guanzhou we began the long process of digesting everything we had seen, heard, and felt. Blessed to have experienced for even a short time the company of grandmaster Sum Nung, living legend of wing chun kuen.

About the Author: René Ritchie has been studying the Sum Nung system of Wing Chun Kuen under the guidance of Ngo Lui-Kay since 1990. Author of Yuen Kay-San Wing Chun Kuen, co-author of Complete Wing Chun, and writer of many magazine articles, he is also creator of the Internet WingChunKuen website and co-administrator of the Internet Wing Chun Mailing List. He works and practices in Eastern Canada.