Louis Cha, GBM, OBE (born 6 February 1924), better known by his pen name Jin Yong (金庸, sometimes read and/or written as "Chin Yung"), is a modern Chinese-language novelist. Having co-founded the Hong Kong daily Ming Pao in 1959, he was the paper's first editor-in-chief.
Cha's fiction, which is of the wuxia ("martial arts and chivalry") genre, has a widespread following in Chinese-speaking areas, including mainland China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Southeast Asia, and the United States. His 15 works written between 1955 and 1972 earned him a reputation as one of the finest wuxia writers ever. He is currently the best-selling Chinese author alive; over 100 million copies of his works have been sold worldwide (not including unknown number of bootleg copies).
Cha's works have been translated into English, French, Korean, Japanese, Vietnamese, Thai, Burmese, Malay and Indonesian. He has many fans abroad as well, owing to the numerous adaptations of his works into films, television series, comics and video games.
金庸,大紫荊勳賢,OBE(英語:Louis Cha Leung-yung,1924年3月10日-2018年10月30日),本名查良鏞,浙江海寧人,祖籍江西婺源,1948年移居香港。自1950年代起,以筆名「金庸」創作多部膾炙人口的武俠小說,包括《射鵰英雄傳》、《神鵰俠侶》、《鹿鼎記》等,歷年來金庸筆下的著作屢次改編為電視劇、電影等,對華人影視文化可謂貢獻重大,亦奠定其成為華人知名作家的基礎。金庸早年於香港創辦《明報》系列報刊,他亦被稱為「香港四大才子」之一。
This is a prequel to Fox Volant of the Snowy Mountain and tells the coming-of-age story of Hu Fei, the orphaned son of Hu Yidao, a top-notch swordsman. In the course of Hu Fei's adventurous journey to unravel the true cause of his parents' mysterious deaths, he falls in love first with a beautiful and witty martial artist Yuan Ziyi and subsequently with an introverted herbalist Qing Lingsu. They then get involved in the Red Flower Society's anti-Qing movement. This story line is entwined with the love triangle that Miao Renfeng, the best friend of Hu Yidao who is suspected to be his murderer, is entrapped in. I found this prequel a much more compelling read than Fox Volant of the Snowy Mountain.
By Jin Yong(金庸) Reflections by a 62-year-old reader
“程靈素見他若有所思,目光中露出溫柔神色,早猜到他是想起了袁紫衣,心中微微一酸……” “Cheng Lingsu saw that he was lost in thought, with a gentle look in his eyes. She guessed at once that he was thinking of Yuan Ziyi. Her heart gave a faint ache…”
I’ve just completed reading 金庸’s 飛狐外傳 (The Adventures of the Young Flying Fox), and among the many themes woven through this sweeping wuxia novel, one resonated most deeply with me: unrequited love.
This book is a rich and complex work—filled with subplots, shifting allegiances, and a vast array of characters. 胡斐, the protagonist, orphaned at birth through the tragic murder of his heroic parents, grows up wandering the martial world. His inheritance: a martial arts manual from his father 胡一刀, a legacy that propels him on a path of revenge and personal mastery.
But it is not 胡斐’s swordplay or vendettas that moved me most. It is 程靈素’s silent, unwavering love—a love so deep it asked for nothing, gave everything, and ultimately, sacrificed itself.
程靈素 is not a typical heroine. She is unassuming, gentle, and brilliant in the healing arts and poisons. Her love for 胡斐 is never confessed openly, but it bleeds through every action, every choice. She dies for him, not to win his heart, but because her love is that pure. Meanwhile, 胡斐 is hopelessly infatuated with the distant and unattainable 袁紫衣—a love that remains out of reach.
“你心中有別人,我從來知道。” “You have someone else in your heart. I’ve always known.” — 程靈素
Reading this as a 62-year-old, I found myself overwhelmed by memories of my own past. I, too, have suffered from unreciprocated love—the kind that drains the soul and clouds the mind. There were moments when it nearly wiped me out, and if not for the hand of God holding on to me, I might not have made it through. I have also, regrettably, caused sadness in others by not returning their love.
Looking back, I see now how romantic love can be ecstatic but also treacherous—beautiful in bloom but painful in silence. These experiences have left marks that time did not erase, only softened. In contrast, platonic love—the love of friendship, compassion, shared silence—is calmer, steadier, and perhaps truer with age.
I now live alone, not in bitterness, but with gratitude. Solitude has become a place of peace. I choose to remain free of romantic entanglements, not from fear, but from clarity. It protects both myself and others from the illusions of lust and the wounds of unmet longing.
In 飛狐外傳, Cheng Lingsu stands as one of the most emotionally powerful characters in all of Jin Yong’s writing. She shows us that the deepest love may be the kind that gives everything—and asks for nothing. Her story has moved me in ways that few novels have. Her name, like the idiom she so embodies—沒齒不忘 (“never to be forgotten, even when toothless”)—will remain etched in my heart.
金庸 did not just write about swords and heroes. He wrote about the ache of the human heart, and in doing so, he gave readers like me something to reflect on—not just from the world of fiction, but from the truth of our own lives.