In Memory of Jin Yong, Remembering the Master

When Gu Long passed away, Qiao Qi wrote for him: "The Little Li Flying Dagger became a final song; no one in this world sees Chu Liuxiang anymore."

When Jin Yong passed away, I suspect no one had the standing or the talent to write a couplet like that for him.

Then I thought: hadn't he already written one for himself? "Snow flies across the sky, and a white deer is shot; the laughing wuxia hero leans on a jade mandarin duck." Nothing could surpass those fourteen characters.

I don't know what I'm feeling right now. It doesn't seem that sad, but in every group chat and everywhere I see the news, I keep asking over and over: "Is it really true?" Everyone answers: "Yes, this time it's real."

Although I didn't grow up reading Mr. Jin's novels, I've heard plenty about them. Still, the departure of a generation's great talent leaves me with an inexplicable, hard-to-describe mix of feelings. The passing of one era may also mark the rise of another. But Mr. Jin Yong will never appear again, and The Legend of the Condor Heroes will never appear again either. Farewell, Mr. Jin. You gave one generation emotions, and another generation will remember. Farewell, Mr. Jin!

Zha Liangyong — March 10, 1924 – October 30, 2018, aged 94