There are some things that just become habit over the years. For some people it was a cup of coffee to wake them up. For others it was a morning run. In Shi's case it was this. He didn't always pick the same spot, but rain or shine he could be found somewhere in the city running through the moves of his katas.
A voice, he hears her, but she doesn't break his focus. She's not the first person to ever talk to him while he's doing this. She won't be the last. Sometimes it's be vulgar, people who insist on heckling him, either because he's Chinese, or his piercings, or just the fact that they find someone who's only five foot two practicing martial arts amusing. Sometimes it's just people who are curious.
It doesn't bother him anymore. The ones who think he's a pushover he takes care of easily. There's an advantage to having been doing this for close to ninety years. That much repetition and you get very good. The curious ones, those aren't a bother at all.
"No, it's not." It's not really any style. It's a mix of Wushu, Jeet Kun Do, and a dozen other styles. Things he's picked up from different teachers in dozens of cities. Something you pick up living forever.