There are fundamentally two ways to Song the opponent, corresponding to the two poles of Yin and Yang — yet both are expressions of the same integrated release. The first is Song through emptiness, the second Song through control.
In this first mode, Song manifests as complete receptivity. We do not act on the opponent; instead, we become the condition that invites their undoing.
Our body and intent dissolve all resistance. We yield so deeply that our structure becomes ungraspable. The opponent’s power finds no anchor, no friction, no reaction. Their own force becomes the architect of their imbalance.
This is the Song of emptiness — like a void that draws the opponent inward. When they enter this emptiness, their own tension unravels. We may guide it slightly, but never oppose it.
In this mode, Song feels peaceful, soft, and light. The opponent feels as if they are moving into a soft bed of air. They fall or release themselves not because we have thrown them, but because they cannot continue holding on.
It is the Song of yielding — the skill of undoing without doing. The opponent’s own effort becomes the path to their release.
The second mode is more direct, though still free of brute strength. Here, we align with the opponent’s Jin Lù (power line) and take control of it. Once the line of power is captured, we subtly redirect it so that the opponent’s structure must reorganize — and in doing so, they release themselves.
This Song feels more tangible, even “physical,” but never muscular. It uses the internal line of connection, not external force. By entering and commanding the Jin Lù, we lead the opponent’s root and axis into our own rhythm.
This creates a moment where they can no longer maintain coherence — their alignment collapses into relaxation.
It is the Song of control — a firm but invisible guidance of the opponent’s structure toward their own softening.
In real application, these two modes are not separate but coexist dynamically. The advanced practitioner flows seamlessly between them: sometimes soft and hollow, sometimes direct and firm.
The key is not choosing one mode over the other, but listening — allowing the opponent’s intent and tension to dictate which aspect of Song emerges.
When the opponent’s intent is strong and fast, we receive with emptiness; when their line is clear and extended, we capture it.
The transition between the two happens naturally, often within the same instant.
Ultimately, both modes serve the same purpose: to return the opponent to a state of softness. Whether through emptiness or control, the result is the same — their structure releases, their intent disperses, and the engagement resolves in stillness.