The sun over the Jade Palace was a fat, happy yolk, but Po couldn’t taste it. He sat on the steps, cradling a bowl of noodles he hadn’t touched. The memory of the peacock’s feather, that searing brand of fire and metal, had cracked something inside him. Not his shell—his memory .
Po smiled, tears on his fur. “And I know you chose me. That makes you just as real.” kung fu panda 2 po
That night, Po sat on the roof of the Jade Palace. The stars were out. He no longer felt a hole inside him. He felt a garden. And in that garden, a peach seed was finally beginning to grow. The sun over the Jade Palace was a