A Hero Born: The Definitive Edition (Legends of the Condor Heroes #1)

by Jin Yong

Breakfast consisted of fried strips of chicken and tofu, ham, sliced sausage, smoked fish, and a small pot of the most deliciously fragrant rice porridge.

Breakfast for her usually consisted of pickles and a small piece of tofu.

the swimmer is the one to drown, the cart always breaks on flat ground.

Life passes like the drying morning dew and these sixteen years have been like a dream.

“Clear heart, emotions departed, In empty body qi can spread. A dead mind, yet the spirit lives, For Yin thrives but the Yang is shed.”

“You must clear your mind before sleep. Don’t leave a single thought. Then settle your body in the correct position, on your side, that’s right. Make your breath smooth and even. Release your spirit but don’t let your mind wander.”

“First we will eat some fruit and nuts, four dried, four fresh, two sour-salted and four preserved in honey.”

dried lychees, longans, steamed jujube, and ginkgo nuts. As for the fresh, give us whatever’s in season. And we want sliced, perfumed sour cherries and sour plums with ginger. Can

“Petal-dressed quail, fried duck’s feet, chicken-tongue soup, drunken deer tripe, pan-fried beef done two ways, rabbit slivers in chrysanthemum, flame-cooked venison and … pig’s trotter in ginger vinegar.

Bamboo Leaf, a sorghum wine, aged for ten years.

four plates of pastries and buns and a large pot of Dragon Well tea. Though

Home to more than a million inhabitants, the streets were lined with decorative redbrick buildings with painted doors, and crowded with ornate carriages. Merchants stacked their storefronts with a multitude of goods, the likes of which Guo Jing had never seen before, as the fragrance of tea leaves wafted into the street. Music hung in the air; colors, sounds, and smells overwhelmed him. Guo Jing did not know which way to look.

“Wild goose weather, Winter frost seeps through window screen. Veiled in protective clouds is the moon, Tender is the ice unweaned. The stream her mirror, she combs her hair, Perfume and powder all brushed away. Jade complexion layered silk outweighs. Leaning against the east wind, One moment of her smile Turns ten thousand blossoms away, Blushed and beguiled. Oh, loneliness! Where is home? A garden after snow? A lakeside pagoda? To Jade Lake, a ne’er forgotten beau. But which messenger can she trust? Butterflies only know to search for peach and willow, Of southern blossom they do not care. And so with sorrow she sheds her petals Into sunsets Accompanied by bugle blare.”

Chinese martial arts have a strong connection to the various ancient philosophies and religions of the region, primarily through the idea of self-cultivation. In the popular mind in both the east and west, the most famous example would be the “kung fu monks” of the Shaolin temple in Henan Province, established in the late fifth century. The temple’s first preacher was an Indian monk by the name of Buddhabhadra, and along with another fellow Indian monk, Bodhidharma, and their first Chinese disciples, he was said to have given birth to a new Buddhism that, by the Tang dynasty (A.D. 618–907), would develop into Zen. Given its emphasis on the breath and the mind, the links to martial arts fighting is not at once obvious. But, as monasteries and temples both Buddhist and Taoist owned land and other wealth, they came frequently under attack, which has led some historians to postulate that monks practiced martial arts as a form of self-defense.