[first lines]Hundred Eyes: In Kung Fu, we say "One hand lies, [attempting blows] the other hand tells the truth." [counter-strikes]Marco Polo: Try that again.Hundred Eyes: If you one day you make it back to the West, what will you tell men of this strange word, "Kung Fu?" Will you tell them that it means to fight? Or will you say, like a monk from Shaolin [inhales sharply] to summon the spirit of the crane and the tiger?Hundred Eyes: [both grunting and panting] Kung Fu. It means, "supreme skill from hard work."Hundred Eyes: A great poet has reached Kung Fu. The painter, the calligrapher, they can be said to have Kung Fu. Even the cook, the one who sweeps steps, or a masterful servant, can have Kung Fu. Practice. Preparation. Endless repetition. Until your mind is weary, and your bones ache. Until you're too tired to sweat. Too wasted to breathe.Hundred Eyes: [continues dueling] That is the way, the only way one acquires Kung Fu. Unfortunately boy, you have not.
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