Greatsword

Historically, true heroes, as Jing Lingyu said, haven't really accomplished anything truly great. Jin Yong wrote many books praising chivalry, but ultimately, with *The Deer and the Cauldron*, he completely erased the concept. In fact, like *The Great Swordsman*, he was also depicting the inevitable failures of heroes facing the real world. Only by portraying failure can we truly reflect on it. Nowadays, too many people on the internet are writing about beautiful wives and false victories, which is a lamentable reflection of the superficiality of society. Many people like *The Deer and the Cauldron* simply because Xiaobao married many wives, failing to grasp even a fraction of Cha Gong's true meaning, which is both speechless and laughable. But, returning to the book itself, are the swordsmen truly dead? No. Xu Laojianke's passing on of the sword is merely the surface; the author provides further hints beyond him. These hints are found in someone else, someone easily overlooked by others. That person is Tong Zhiyi. The character "" (zhi) reversed becomes "" (yizhi), meaning "will" or "endowment." After the Hundred Swords Alliance's downfall, who inherited this will? It was Tong. The character "" can be broken down into "" (li) and "" (li). When the Sword Hall was destroyed, two people stood inside: the deceased Old Swordsman Xu and the living Chang Sihao. Clearly, this symbolizes the will being passed from the dead to the living. At the same time, Old Tong was in charge of the alliance's economy, meaning he controlled the finances. Using Old Tong's name in this allusion clearly symbolizes that the Sword Alliance's precious wealth had been passed to Chang Sihao. This wealth wasn't money or property, because those were all taken by Juexiang. The true wealth of the Swordsmen was their ideology. And only Chang Sihao inherited this ideology. Chang Sihao inherited everything from the Sword Family. Although the Hundred Swords Alliance existed in name only, with him around, the Sword Family was not truly dead—this is different from the first book. The true lineage of the Great Swordsman is that of Old Swordsman Xu, Alliance Leader Zheng, and Chang Sihao. Others, such as Jing Wenzhong and the Luo brothers, are explicitly and implicitly revealed in the book; their deaths are not regrettable. Without careful reading and understanding, it is indeed difficult to grasp the true meaning. In terms of creative technique, this book employs an ensemble narrative approach. Anyone who has read even a little literary criticism will understand this, so I won't elaborate. What I want to mention is that while the traditional ensemble narrative technique is arguably best exemplified by *Water Margin*, it only connects one person's story to another, unlike *Claymore* which maintains a continuous narrative. *Water Margin* focuses on a single person, while *Claymore* often uses one person's words and actions to indirectly portray or hint at another's actions. For example, the section on Cheng Lian'an subtly hints at Jue Xiang's emotions, and many characters can be understood through cross-referencing. Traditional techniques emphasize achieving two meanings with one strike, but *Claymore* uses a more abstract, unfocused approach, neither detached nor grounded in reality. Despite using the same ensemble cast approach, "The Legend of the Condor Heroes" is not as well-written as "Water Margin" because it cannot achieve or write a story that is neither free from detachment nor duality. In the realm of wuxia (martial arts) novels, there is truly a well-written example of the ensemble cast technique: *Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils*. Many say its structure is loose, but that's not true; it's simply a result of traditional writing techniques. *Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils* is a truly ornate and beautifully written work. Ni Kuang said it surpasses *The Smiling, Proud Wanderer*, and I agree. The linear writing style of *The Smiling, Proud Wanderer* makes the creative process much easier. Many people dislike *The Deer and the Cauldron*, but it truly represents the pinnacle of traditional wuxia literature. It cleverly conceals the ensemble cast technique, making it appear less like a typical ensemble work. It's also the first masterpiece to seamlessly blend officialdom, history, and the martial arts world, forging chivalry and everyday life into a unified whole. Reading *The Great Sword*, one can see the author's efforts to climb to this peak. The historical research in the article is quite solid, and some of the revelations about medicine and the secrets of Taoist tradition are also nice touches, making one sigh that traditional culture still has successors. As a reader who loves tradition, I would like to offer my respect and blessings, and wish you all the best. When I have time, I'm going to pick out all the names in the book and analyze them. I wonder if any fellow readers would like to read it? I'd also like to recommend Professor Liu Guozhong's books. After understanding them, it will greatly help you understand traditional novels and analyze techniques. After that, reading this book, "The Great Sword," as well as books by Mr. Zhang Dachun and others, will feel like a breakthrough.

Yesterday, when I uploaded the cover, I saw some comments. I wanted to reply, but I had so much to say that I didn't know where to begin. Today, I wrote down what I wanted to say, but looking back, I felt it was unnecessary. I'll delete it and just have a heart-to-heart talk. Writing is an enduring pursuit. As long as you know how much effort you put in and what level you achieve, that's enough. Having two or three close friends who understand you and share your joy is even better. If you have no close friends in this world, you should seek them in the future. There's no need to force it. To me, this is like practicing martial arts. Once you've mastered it, it's useless; it's just fulfilling your initial desires: "Wanted to climb a mountain, so you climbed it." "Wanted to do something, so you did it." That's all. So you're obsessed with fame and fortune just because you signed a VIP membership? Go look at fantasy novel websites; they get four to five million clicks a week, equivalent to ten years of martial arts novels. Fantasy writers earn over ten thousand yuan a month everywhere. My novel, "The Great Swordsman," has been online for six years, and my total earnings to date are only 545.72 Yuan, which hasn't even reached my account yet; I don't know where it went. Even the works of the master writer Huang Yi don't sell more than ten thousand copies these days. Choosing martial arts novels for fame and fortune is simply the act of a fool. This era is no longer about dreams; if you talk about a martial arts dream, everyone will laugh at you for being delusional. I've walked this path with many betrayals and abandonments, but I haven't consumed myself like Cheng Lian'an. Staying true to yourself isn't enough; life's challenges are always easier to overcome. What's truly difficult is maintaining your own unique writing style. For a long time, martial arts novels have been viewed by some as mere action novels or even erotic novels, much like some people who read *Jin Ping Mei* focus solely on the love affairs. They look down on them, treating them only as entertainment, naturally lacking any deeper understanding or appreciation. Skimming through the text, picking up on the action and fighting, isn't the author's fault. Gu Long's decision to cut out the action altogether was clever; to elevate the overall quality, he needed to shift the reader's attention. While others cater to the reader, he transformed the reader—that's the mark of a master. My abilities are lacking, and I absolutely admit my writing is poor. But to say that *The Eastern Depot's World* is inferior to *The Qin Mansion's Storm*, or even that it wasn't written by me, I really have to laugh. Not to laugh at the readers' level, but to laugh at how I actually succeeded. *Qin* depicts the martial world, while *Eastern Depot's World* depicts the officialdom. The martial world inevitably embodies heroism, while the officialdom inevitably embodies repression. When the heroism of the martial world reaches its peak, suppressing this atmosphere is not easy, nor can it be completely suppressed. One must find the friction points in the ebb and flow of this contrast. The tone of the writing must both shift and remain consistent, drawing the storm to a state of gloom, and then stirring up trouble within that gloom, drawing in the wind and thunder to prevent the chivalrous spirit from extinguishing and the sword's edge from soaring to the heavens, ultimately achieving self-destruction. The two parts have completely different tones, reflecting the seasons, a scene of autumn extending into the depths of winter. It's gratifying when words ignite people's passion, and it's even more gratifying when they reveal people's oppression and pain. If a book can only provide pleasure, that's far from enough. Only when it can evoke pain and reflection, get people thinking, and even generate some kind of motivation, can it be considered a success. When it comes to novels, everyone has their own opinion, and there's no point in saying too much. As the saying goes, it's enough to understand what you mean. The book is there for people to read and talk about. Over the years, I've gotten tired and have little energy, so I'll just follow Liao Gushi's example and let people judge me as they see fit, laughing or cursing as they please. Finally, I'll end this piece with the lyrics from Liang Bolong's poem about Qin Langchuan in "The Eastern Depot," which reflects my current feelings and can be considered a farewell song. I hope that in the distant future, I'll have two or three close friends who can raise a glass to cheer me on. With white eyebrows raised, the hero struts proudly, his horse leaping over the city wall as the sun rises. His long sword points, and the bandits fall silent; the beacon fires are extinguished, and the smoke of war fades. His heroic spirit soared across the heavens and earth, his passionate blood warmed the clear autumn, a thunderous roar shook the heavens and hatred struck him, and his chivalrous spirit turned cold. A fallen hero departs this turbid world, daring to walk alone towards the setting sun. The westward journey lacks only a farewell wine; there are only the blood of 100,000 Tartars, but who will distill and blend it? July 1, 2013 Li Laojianke

꧁❦༺ "Global Top Culture"༻❦꧂ What is ignorance? It is not believing that doing good brings blessings, doing evil brings karma, that there is no cause and effect, and that there is no afterlife. While outward movement may exist, inward movement is uncertain; when one breath ceases, one enters the next life. Therefore, the wise associate with sages and learn from the past. They dedicate themselves wholeheartedly to public affairs as they do to private matters!

The chapter on "Power Generation" is a classic treatise. Reflecting on Bruce Lee's "power generation," we can learn a lot—if one is good at generating power, even a child can defeat a big man.

A very good book, thumbs up!

I'm writing this review after reading three chapters. The depiction of war and chaos, where human life is as cheap as grass, is incredibly profound and deeply moving.

A new book has been released, "The Immortal Demon Master" is pretty good.

The protagonist lacks a clear goal, and all the excitement he experiences is just nonsense. However, the protagonist's own experiences could be a captivating and entertaining novel in themselves. What clear goals did Wei Xiaobao have when he first started out? Yet, we all enjoy reading such thick novels because of their thrills and endearing qualities.

Brother, let's make a comeback! Write another new wuxia novel!

A grand-scale martial arts novel that gets more and more addictive with each reading!