"They are usually very angry. I often have to fight many challengers in a single day. Especially if I choose to take copies of their skill books." Dai Xin answered Torako and Kyang, once more completely-matter-of-fact. "Oddly enough they get even angrier when I return the books. I suppose it must be because I make a point of only throwing aside techniques and training methods that I think are useless, and they may feel disrespected because of that."

When their food arrived, Dai Xin made a point of letting the ladies go first, then deftly separated his chopsticks and picked up one of the buns. Unlike Kyang he didn't bother to separate it, opening up wide and putting the whole thing in his mouth in one go. He still managed to chew politely, mouth closed, but his stern jaw bulged comically. The dough was soft and chewy, but firm enough to completely envelop the pork's juicy, slightly fatty body without any of it leaking out. Biting into the dumpling was like lying on a soft pillow, after which the warm, full body of the pork was like the sensation of a lover settling down next to you. It was tender, each chew causing an explosion of juices, but there was a light dusting of spices that made each movement of the jaw tingle delightfully. The powerful flavor of the meat, and the fierceness of the spices, melded perfectly with the light and elastic texture of the dumpling. It was like martial arts itself, hardness and softness, working together in harmony! Dai Xin could feel it, in this dumpling--the essence of the universe! The Yin-and-Yang of existence, the dark of pork and the white of dough, intermingling to create a sensation of oneness!

He swallowed, and took another.

"These are excellent." he said.