The Heavenly Sword & the Dragon Sabre Afterword

When Jin Yong revised The Heavenly Sword and the Dragon Sabre from the original newspaper serialisation for print, he wrote this afterword for the novel, also known as the Second Edition. He extended it when he revised the novel for the Third Edition. This page contains content from both editions.

The Heavenly Sword and the Dragon Sabre, also known as The Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber, is the third part of the Condor Trilogy.

The male protagonists of these three books have completely different personalities. Guo Jing is honest and straightforward, Yang Guo passionate and unrestrained, whilst Zhang Wuji’s character is more complex and rather weak.

His chivalry is actually his most important trait. Having lived on Ice Fire Island since young, he remained unaware of society’s dangers and never learnt to value his own interests. Hence, he would leap to others’ aid with no regard for his own safety. While he has many virtues, he also has numerous flaws, perhaps making him more similar to ordinary people like ourselves.

Yang Guo is absolutely proactive. Guo Jing remains steadfast in crucial moments but needs Huang Rong’s prompting for smaller matters. Zhang Wuji’s entire life, however, is constantly influenced by others, constrained by circumstances with no escape.

Regarding matters of the heart, Yang Guo remains devoted to Xiaolongnü until death, ignoring social norms. Guo Jing’s wavering between Huang Rong and Princess Huazheng stems purely from moral values. He never hesitates in matters of love.

Zhang Wuji, however, remains indecisive throughout. Among Zhou Zhiruo, Zhao Min, Yin Li and Xiaozhao, his love for Zhao Min appears deepest. He even tells Zhou Zhiruo this at the end.

But in the depths of his heart, who does he truly love most? I fear even he doesn’t know. Even I, as the author, cannot say. Once his character was written this way, everything had to develop according to his nature, and I could not intervene.

Someone like Zhang Wuji, regardless of how great his martial arts might be, ultimately cannot be a great political leader. Of course, he himself has no wish to be one. Even if he reluctantly accepted such a role, he would inevitably fail in the end.

Three thousand years of Chinese political history have clearly laid out the prerequisites. The first quality required of successful Chinese political leaders is forbearance, including self-restraint, tolerance of others, and ruthlessness when dealing with enemies. The second is decisive action. The third is a strong desire for power.

Zhang Wuji possesses none of these. Zhou Zhiruo and Zhao Min both have political talent, which is perhaps why these maidens, though beautiful, are not entirely loveable.

Personally, I love Xiaozhao the most. Regrettably, I could not let her be with Zhang Wuji. The thought often fills me with melancholy.

Therefore, the love stories in this novel are not particularly beautiful, though perhaps this makes them more realistic.

Zhang Wuji may not be a good leader, but he can be our good friend. In fact, the emotional core of this book lies not in the romance between men and women, but in the bonds between men: the brotherly love among the Seven Xias of Wudang, the teacher-student bond between Zhang Sanfeng and Zhang Cuishan, and the father-son love between Xie Xun and Zhang Wuji.

However, the book’s depiction of Zhang Sanfeng’s grief upon witnessing Zhang Cuishan’s suicide, and Xie Xun’s heartbreak upon hearing of Zhang Wuji’s death, was too superficial. Real life is not like that.

Because back then, I did not understand.

March 1977

While Zhang Wuji’s personality might seem to lack heroic qualities, he fully embodies the spirit of xia, chivalrous righteousness. True chivalry means pursuing righteous actions without seeking personal gain, whether for one’s country, organisation, friends or relatives.

As the saying goes, “Upon witnessing injustice, draw your sword to help.” A chivalrous person acts without regard for personal consequences, whether life, interests, or reputation, and accepts no reward for pursuing justice.

When Zhao Kuangyin escorted Jingniang a thousand li,¹ he firmly refused when the beautiful lady offered herself to him, feeling that accepting would put a price on his virtuous deed, diminishing its nobility.

This concept is less common in Western society, where people often act on divine or church authority. The Chinese perspective emphasises following one’s conscience, not seeking a better afterlife or avoiding hell’s torments.

The highest principle of wuxia novels is to promote the spirit of chivalry. Heroes often act for themselves, while chivalrous persons usually act for others. Once there is a reward involved, the sense of chivalry diminishes.

July 2003

The Heavenly Sword and the Dragon Sabre’s complex structure with many loopholes and flaws required major surgery for the Third Edition. The most significant change was leaving Zhang Wuji’s final choice of partner unresolved, reflecting the author’s belief that history and human affairs are not predetermined but full of possibilities.

Zhang Wuji departs for Mongolia with Zhao Min, never to return to the Central Plains. Yet circumstances might have led Zhou Zhiruo to seek him in Mongolia, or taken him and Zhao Min to Persia in search of Xiaozhao, or compelled him to return alone to the Central Plains for Ming Order affairs, or even brought him to encounter Yin Li in the Western Regions…

Human affairs are primarily shaped by human choices, and Zhang Wuji only remembers the good that others do for him. Thus, everyone appears good to him, everyone loveable…

Zhou Zhiruo tells Zhang Wuji, “Go ahead and marry her, have children. After eight or ten years, your heart will only think of me and miss me.” Such feelings are beyond the understanding of young boys and girls. This is why I discourage thirteen or fourteen-year-old girls from writing novels.

The chapter titles of this book follow the pattern of a forty-line Bailiangti² seven-syllable poem with a single rhyme throughout. The tonal patterns of ancient poetry differ from regulated verse and cannot follow strict metre.

I am not skilled at poetry, and ancient-style poetry is even more challenging. Consider this an exercise in poetic study. The main difficulty lies in capturing the “ancient spirit”.

July 2003

Footnotes

1. 里 – lǐ. Traditional Chinese unit of distance, approximately 500 metres or a third of a mile. ↩

2. 柏梁体 – bái liáng tǐ. Bailiangti is a form of Chinese poetry that originated during the Northern Song Dynasty. It is characterised by its forty-line structure and the use of a single rhyme throughout the poem. ↩