Don't always "lead a snail" (i.e., drag things out).

 　　I've seen many articles about "taking a snail for a walk," "taking a snail on a trip," meaning to slow down like a snail to appreciate the beauty of lush trees and fragrant flowers. Modern society's fast-paced work and life are indeed exhausting, so people are advocating a "slow" lifestyle—eating slowly, walking slowly, slowing everything down, like a snail.

　　However, slowness should be moderate. If you really "take a snail on a trip," then even the most beautiful lush trees and fragrant flowers are just scenery before your eyes; you won't appreciate the boundless beauty beyond. The snail is too slow, so slow that it only wanders in place, then becomes self-absorbed, arrogantly believing it has reached a higher level, a philosophical level. Indeed, many details of life's beauty should not be overlooked; we need to stop and smile at a flower, express our feelings to the white clouds. But don't forget, the most beautiful scenery is ahead. If you are too slow, you will miss the entire spring because of a single flower, and miss the entire sky because of a single white cloud. So, don't always "lead the snail." Move forward, walk, stop, run, and chase—that's how you make your journey rich, colorful, and full of fun.

　　Some say that some time is meant to be wasted. They think that spending a lot of time "leading the snail" will make life poetic and improve its quality. But don't forget, life has much more time to cherish. As members of society, we have a responsibility and obligation to create value through our labor and contribute our time and wisdom to society. At work, sometimes we need to go all out, even run. We can certainly use more time to do more. Back on track, walk, stop, run, and chase—that's how life becomes fulfilling and valuable.

　　Leading the snail occasionally is fine, but if you're always leading the snail, you'll probably be driven crazy by it, wanting nothing more than to stomp on it. If everyone leads the snail, life will be like it's on slow motion, entering an abnormal state, and society will stagnate and become unhealthy.

　　Life needs a combination of fast and slow, and appropriate adjustments. Slowing down is a short rest, not procrastination; it's adjustment, not a constant state; it's relaxation, not indulgence. The same applies to everything; too much of anything is bad. If you're always leading a snail on a walk, you'll eventually forget how to walk on your own. So, don't always "lead a snail."

Days of life

 　　Countless years have passed, many days filled with sunshine and rain, joys and sorrows, partings and reunions. Life feels like a river, a song, a mix of bitterness and happiness.

　　Suddenly, I look up and see the end of life; fear grips my heart, for the past years have long since faded. Looking back abruptly, I see how many seasons have passed, how much sorrow has crept into my heart. I try to calm my mind and reflect. Looking in the mirror, I see a face etched with the marks of time, and a sense of panic begins to creep in. I cannot face it with equanimity; the past days flow by like water. A long sigh is a lament for my life, still on a long march; a long roar is a celebration of my life, for I am still moving forward.

　　Reflecting on the days of my life, I know how much desolation has etched itself beneath my feet, how many hardships have filled the path ahead. Without dwelling on it, without carefully recounting it, I know that in the days of life, there are only three days of memory. Yesterday's memories have become history, a sculpture, existing deep within our thoughts, forever unchangeable. Today's footprints, revealing a hint of searching, will soon be trodden beneath our feet, becoming the yellow sand of memory. Tomorrow hasn't arrived yet; it's like a surging sea, a world of unknowns, full of anticipation.

　　Yesterday, today, and tomorrow—that's our lifetime. There are no exceptions, not even the great, not even the beggar; their time is equal. So, from the moment of birth, everyone's life begins its journey, and everyone's dreams begin to take flight; whether we like it or not, the trajectory cannot be changed. How many days of our own lives can we truly control? Upon reflection, even with passion and boundless aspirations, life still consists of only three days: yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

　　Time's footsteps always have their destination; they will never stop for anyone, nor will they take away sorrow. Life is fleeting; only in retrospect do we realize how hazy it all was. The time beneath our feet is today; but what is today? Is it a river? Is it a dream? A fleeting song? No one knows; time ages us all. What is today, really? Once tender and poignant, yet now I realize this is just the passing of life, a game of time, an addiction to the years. I don't want my life to begin like this, but the days of life are not something I can control, nor can I dictate them.

　　My heart is etched with past wounds; I want to close the door to the days, to let time stand still for me, to let life cease its passing; this moment could be eternal, this moment could let time leave its kiss. Time has not stopped its march, continuing on its own path; and the days of life continue to move forward. The sunlight still begins to ripple; the dew, with its own pearls, also displays a captivating brilliance, also brings joy; the sea tells the wind its heartfelt story; the mountains display their undulating peaks to the earth. But all of these, carrying the yearning of life, braving the biting frost, dance on the carved railings and jade pavilions of life's days.

　　The blooming peach blossoms, overflowing with their fragrance, not only mark the beginning of life but also radiate its charm and beauty. How many spring blossoms truly exist in the days of life? No one knows the exact number. This is not important; what matters is the essence of life: its vibrant energy, its brilliance, its radiance, its splendor.

　　Only by seizing today can we have a glorious beginning.

Lying awake at night, I listen to the wind and rain.

 　　Part 1: Lying in Bed at Night, Listening to the Wind and Rain

　　It's been raining a lot these past few days, and I don't know when I started to enjoy the sound of rain. Lying in bed, I close my eyes and quietly listen to the pattering, rustling, and sometimes heavy rain outside the window. I can't help but think of Xin Qiji's "Lying in Bed at Night, Listening to the Wind and Rain" and Li Shangyin's "Leaving behind the withered lotus leaves to listen to the sound of rain," these famous lines from the ages. Lying quietly, listening quietly, at this moment, I think of nothing at all. My heart slowly calms down, and I possess a sense of inner peace. In this stillness, I feel a profound and expansive feeling, giving my soul tranquility and peace. It seems as if I've escaped the storms of the mundane world and the weariness of life. Perhaps many people have already experienced or are experiencing the storms of life. Therefore, they have this feeling of the wind and rain in nature and the trials of life. Listening to the sounds of the natural wind and rain, I feel a sense of peace and tranquility within. Lying in bed listening to the wind and rain, I truly felt a similar sense of urgency to Gorky's "Bring on, storm!"...

　　Experiencing hardship and suffering in youth, in retrospect, isn't necessarily a bad thing. It's a kind of accumulation in life, enriching one's life and deepening one's inner world. If someone is born with everything, with everything readily available, they may appear outwardly successful, but what about their inner self? More likely, they're rotten inside. Look at today's rich kids—how many are ignorant and have caused their parents so much trouble?! In life, only what you truly gain through hard work and dedication brings peace of mind and meaning! It's like my experience playing mahjong: winnings disappear quickly, and I don't care much. Therefore, one should walk their own path, based on their own circumstances and reality, and be less influenced by those bizarre and outlandish things.

　　Listening to the rain is most pleasant; listening to the rain is like listening to a song. But listening to the rain isn't all tranquility and peace; it can also be oppressive, unsettling, and unsettling. The depth of one's understanding and feelings after listening to the rain reflects one's own character. I love listening to the rain because its sound is a celestial melody amidst the chaos of the world, touching the fading innocence within. The ethereal and dreamlike quality of the rain is like a poignant lament, "Though seemingly heartless, it is full of emotion." Rain, though sometimes chaotic, often guides people from restlessness and impulsiveness, from lingering emotions and sadness, from despair and loneliness, towards a different direction and transformation in life. Towards openness, towards calmness, towards rationality, towards magnanimity, towards sublimation…

　　Lying quietly in bed, listening to the rain, listening to the rain… gradually drifting into a dream…

　　Part Two: Lying in bed at night

　　, listening to the wind and rain The night air seemed frozen in death, as oppressive as my mood, making me feel suffocated… The clouds continued to fall, as if about to scatter among the treetops, and my heart was slowly falling with them. The internet was also deserted, with only a few old internet addicts chatting idly… Several days have passed without any news from you. I remember that morning, I had just turned on my phone when I received your call. All I heard on the other end was your silent sobbing… I asked you several times, but you didn't say a word. I was at a loss, searching through my dictionary for words of comfort, my mind exhausted of any words of advice, but in the end, you still said nothing. You hung up. I picked up the wine jug and poured myself a full cup. Ah, what can dispel sorrow? Only wine! I held the cup, taking small sips. Today's wine seemed much weaker than usual.

　　When I emerged from purgatory and stepped into this autumn, those days were murky, filled with confusion. I experienced too much pain, too much silence; the road was bumpy and muddy.

　　I was slightly tipsy, my blood was rushing, my head was sinking, and a restless emotion was gradually rising.

　　The night breeze outside the window brought a chill, weaving together a strange feeling

　　…

　　Oh, I don't know when it started to rain and mist outside. I lifted my blurry eyes and looked out the window. In the distance, a dim streetlamp illuminated a puddle of water on the ground, raindrops falling upon it, rippling like soft smiles.

　　I can't forget that moonlit night. The hazy moonlight filtered through the night mist, casting an unusual solemnity on the stone bridge. The swaying bamboo shadows and the murmuring stream created a sense of tranquility, as if in a dream. We embraced on a smooth boulder.

　　As I slowly cupped your face in my hands, gazing into your tender eyes, and whispered my longing for you, I could vaguely feel a blush of happiness spread across your hazy face in the night, and I could feel your burning breath.

　　The wind was gentle, the rain was misty…

　　The wind in the rain lacked the unique elegance and freedom of the autumn wind; the rain in the wind lost the unique torrential downpour and exhilaration of the autumn rain.

　　I dragged over a deck chair, nestled inside, and listened to the melody of the wind and rain in the night.

　　A breeze rippled through the empty night, playing a melodious tune like a saxophone. It drifted gently, so tender and lingering. The wind softly carried the fine rain onto the leaves of a row of cypress trees, like gently vibrating maracas, rhythmically accompanying the saxophone…

　　“Since parting, I recall our meeting, how many times my soul and dreams have been with you. Tonight, I'll light the silver lamp again, still fearing our meeting is but a dream.”

　　Life is a book, and you are a page in the story of my life. Reading you is so easy, but understanding you is so difficult!

　　If I can endure the unforgettable longing without you, letting that longing dilute my loneliness, but can I escape the darkness of loneliness, I don't know.

　　Was that shooting star that streaked across the night sky your transformed eye? Was that the light cloud that drifted overhead your fleeting figure?

　　When lightning flashes, piercing through layers of rain, it illuminates my thoughts, copying my emotions onto every shimmering raindrop, scattering them across every corner of the night, flowing freely everywhere. As long as you're in this city, you'll be surrounded by this wave of information.

　　A long, long time passed before I could faintly make out the sound of thunder. There seemed to be a hint of weariness in that sound.

　　Some say, "Suffering makes for a beautiful life. Learn to understand suffering, don't be intimidated by its apparent cruelty. Unfold it layer by layer; this is the most alluring and meaningful project in life. Generations have repeatedly experienced suffering, but how many dare to linger before it and become accustomed to this bitter taste?"...

　　Your deep, melancholic gaze, your once-blooming smile, your focused listening to the flowers bloom in the quiet night, and the sorrowful expression as they fall—these often drift into my dreams.

　　The night is deep, and I still keep my eyes closed, letting my eardrums search for the beautiful music in the wind and rain.

　　The wind seemed to have lessened considerably, but the rain intensified. The mournful saxophone melody gradually faded and drifted away. In such a night, in such a melody, one's imagination is most easily stirred, evoking dreams.

　　God created a pair of lovers who would never be separated, yet humanity has bound their own hearts with ropes of their own making, giving rise to countless stories of separation and resentment. Why is this? I ask the wind of the night, I ask the rain in the wind…

　　“The night is long and I cannot sleep, my soul wanders alone until dawn.”

　　Part Three: Lying awake at night, listening to the wind and rain. In youth, I listened to the rain

　　in a singing pavilion, red candles dimly illuminating the silk curtains. In middle age, I listened to the rain in a traveler's boat, the river low, the clouds vast, a lone wild goose crying in the west wind. Now I listen to the rain under the eaves of a monk's hut, my temples already gray. Joy and sorrow, separation and reunion, are all indifferent. I let the raindrops fall before the window until dawn.

　　I like to hold a cup of tea alone, silently listening to the rain by the window. Lower the awning in front of the window and let the raindrops patter on it. A light drizzle is like the melody of an unnamed piece of music, without rules, lonely and wandering, elusive and impossible to grasp; one can only quiet the mind and listen silently. A sudden downpour is like a grand symphony of heaven and earth, a cacophony of sounds, like a thousand horses galloping in. If one is inclined to listen, close one's eyes, and the glint of swords and shadows will vividly appear in one's mind.

　　I remember when I was in the third year of junior high, it was around eight o'clock after extra classes. Stepping out of the warm classroom, I leaned against the railing and looked down. The rain had just stopped, but the ground was still flooded. All was quiet except for the dripping water from the eaves, making a thumping sound. A gust of cold wind would snap me out of my numb, tense state of studying. The sycamore leaves of late autumn covered the ground, and my classmates and I would walk home shoulder to shoulder, trudging through the wet leaves, chatting and discussing our lessons and problems along the way. There were no youthful songs in the towers, no forced sentimentality, only endless formulas and theorems. At that time, I felt that our lives were not very poetic, not very beautiful, and even somewhat disappointing.

　　Whenever I reached the school gate, I would often see the teacher sitting in the gatehouse under the dim light, struggling to read the newspaper. The test papers he had just collected bulged in his black cloth bag; that was his work for the night. On a rainy autumn night, a single lamplight only served to highlight the desolate loneliness of a solitary firefly.

　　Summers in Jinan are rainy. In the months following the middle school entrance exams, there were several rainstorms. August arrived in the blink of an eye, bringing a new wave of students taking extra classes and another batch of soon-to-be graduates. My home was very close to the middle school I would graduate from, and every day I would stand at my window watching the students go to and from school. Sometimes, a sudden downpour would begin, the pattering sounds blending into a continuous curtain of rain, obscuring distant scenery. All I could see were colorful umbrellas blooming on the street, slowly moving forward. Under the umbrellas, the students would gather, shoulder to shoulder, still lively and chattering, repeating the same topics that had always been popular among students. Only the people under the umbrellas had changed again and again, and I could no longer find any familiar faces.

　　Occasionally, I would see a familiar face in the crowd—my former teacher, still as tall and strong as ever, still striding forward as before, only his back was more hunched, and his temples were now gray. I don't know if it's these storms, these silent trials, that leave their mark on the passage of time.

　　I remember spending time there; a sensitive person, listening intently to the rain, will always feel a range of emotions. When things have changed, encountering familiar sights and sounds can sometimes bring tears to my eyes. Perhaps I can no longer hear the dripping rain from the eaves after a late autumn rain, perhaps I can still see the scenes of returning home in the downpour, but I can still lie in bed late at night, quiet my mind, and listen carefully to the torrential rain outside the window, to the howling wind. Closing my eyes, I vividly recall sharing the rain with my classmates, laughing and chatting. The image of my teacher seems to still clearly appear before my eyes.

　　I miss the rain of last autumn.

　　Part Four: Lying Alone at Night Listening to the Wind and Rain

　　The rain outside, illuminated by the lamplight, scattered like glittering silver needles, its pattering sound exceptionally clear. The sounds of cars passing by and the whistling of leaves in the wind echoed all around. You can imagine the silence inside. Was this a stalemate with your wife over whether or not to go online, a way of giving each other space and time to think? Or was it building up the atmosphere for a full-blown battle? Either way, it was perfectly fitting for such a rainy night.

　　Imagine, outside, the pattering rain is a cool, melodious sound from the heavens, a romance and transcendence not usually found. The two of you are so close, yet unhindered. In your respective, relatively isolated spaces, you can give yourselves a reason to calm down, constantly reflecting on your own inappropriate words and actions, or secretly rejoicing at provoking the other's anger. In the world of a married couple, each other's anger is like a series of small victories. These victories are meant to be limited; perpetual victory signifies marital failure, and happiness vanishes with each triumph. This lifelong battle, and the joy it brings, is sweet yet slightly bitter, like coffee—bitter on the outside, but irresistible in its aroma, making one reluctant to give it up. This happiness may be fleeting, ephemeral, for after a moment of tranquility, something like tonight's rain may follow, soaking their intertwined hearts. The warmth of the past will vanish without a trace, leaving a stifling, oppressive feeling; the pouring raindrops may instantly transform into drops of blood flowing from the heart. In such a bitter storm, a family of three, without relatives or friends in a small town, is like a small boat tossed about in a storm, constantly causing heart-wrenching pain. Thinking of this, I was filled with self-reproach, deeply regretting my indulgence in comfort. My thoughts stagnated, sinking into an endless darkness, as if I could see no light.

　　Inside the house, my wife and daughter were talking softly. Judging from their voices, it was a joyful and liberating conversation, like birdsong flowing through leaves after rain, the elastic vibrations like glistening pearls sliding off the tips of leaves, the rainbow reflected like shimmering light in the clouds. My heart instantly felt relieved. The heavy guilt slowly crept up the damp walls and tree trunks like a snail, and my breathing became much more even. Perhaps she had forgiven my mistake. Indulging in the internet, especially purely for entertainment, can indeed devour a person's youth, future, talent, and beauty like a demon.

　　Although my wife doesn't possess outstanding talent or extraordinary wisdom, she diligently manages this impoverished family in addition to her busy work. My wife is a teacher at a prestigious high school. The school's strict management and excellent traditions have instilled a "self-motivated" spirit in every teacher. The workload is immense. I myself graduated from that school, and I still vividly remember that experience. The school's closed management, early morning and evening self-study sessions, meant only one day off a week. The various adult exams, high school entrance exams, college entrance exams, and the school's monthly, midterm, and final exams, along with the invigilation and grading of papers, further consumed many of her holidays. Yet, my wife also shouldered the majority of the household chores. Because my work schedule is highly demanding, the burden of cooking, washing, and shopping fell entirely on her shoulders. So, whenever I had time, I would actively share these responsibilities with her, finding some solace in my guilt. We are both working-class, with no special income or savings; we started from scratch. To save money, my wife would always get up early to go to the North Ring Wholesale Market to buy cheaper goods. My wife often offers me words of advice, afraid that her directness might hurt my feelings. She always uses a story or a program to remind me of my own shortcomings. I understand her good intentions perfectly, and how could I not bow my head in shame before her? I write about my life, feeling the warmth of love, and my wife is the protagonist of that life, releasing that warmth of love through her hard work and dedication.

　　I quietly sense my wife's words and breath, knowing that she has forgiven me; my sixth sense strongly suggests that I pressed the confirmation button. Perhaps it's because I've never extinguished the dream in my heart, like a swallow chasing spring, year after year, tirelessly on my journey. Even if I momentarily yearn for the green hills and clear waters of other places, the warm sun is always the direction I pursue. My wife has always been happy, supportive, worried, and encouraging for my persistence, giving me ample space for forgiveness. Perhaps this time, my wife considered that today is Sunday, a day for rest, and that I shouldn't make a fuss about it! As the saying goes, a balance between work and rest is the way of both literature and martial arts, because she often taught her students and daughter this. I searched for a thousand reasons to explain the change from heavy to relaxed, using every piece of favorable evidence to give myself an excuse to back down, but in the face of responsibility and love, I maintained a clear understanding and definition of the difference between the eternal and the fleeting, between pursuit and decadence.

　　The rain stopped, and raindrops sliding down the eaves and branches tapped the world sparsely, a melodious patter. My heart's journey reached a resting place. I got up from the bedside, leaned on the desk, and gently went outside, breathing in the fresh air, looking up at the sky. Occasionally, one or two stars peeked behind the clouds, and I thought that perhaps the sky would clear up tomorrow.

A heart as serene as a lotus

 　　A good friend of mine holds a high-ranking position. Some people around him reminded him that his position allowed him to seize opportunities to make more money, but he politely declined. While some of his colleagues were imprisoned for corruption and bribery, he was promoted for his integrity and outstanding performance.

　　An old classmate of mine, after years of hard work in business, amassed considerable wealth. When women made advances towards him, he resolutely refused. He said that without his wife's strong support, he wouldn't be where he is today, and he would treat her well for the rest of his life. While he returned home on time to reunite with his wife and children, some of his friends were having affairs, resulting in scandals, broken families, and his family's disintegration. He

　　, however, became a model of family devotion and his business continued to grow. A relative of mine is a full-time housewife. Her only worries are preparing meals, leaving her with a lot of free time. Her friends, addicted to mahjong, repeatedly invited her to play, but she politely declined. Through tireless daily practice of copying, she gradually mastered painting skills and recently held a solo exhibition. Her brushstrokes are delicate, gentle, natural, and fitting, just like her—like a lotus flower quietly blooming, breathtakingly beautiful.

　　The reason for their success and happiness lies in maintaining their individuality, remaining serene like a lotus in the face of worldly distractions.

　　The world is full of temptations, but even when tempted, you must maintain your original intentions. Doing what you should do is a form of self-cultivation, and even more so, a state of being. Only by not following the crowd, identifying your own direction, and adhering to your principles can you have a truly beautiful life.

Life should be like a cicada.

 　　On a sweltering summer day, the most annoying sound is undoubtedly the chirping of cicadas.

　　Standing by the window, through the gaps in the branches of the trees, you can see several black dots perched on the branches—those are cicadas. Though small in size, cicadas produce an astonishingly loud noise. On a drowsy afternoon, such sounds often cause irritation. But even if you shake the branches vigorously, the cicadas remain unmoved; if you shake them too hard, they chirp and fly away a short distance, as if in protest, their voices becoming even louder.

　　While reading Tang poetry, I came across Yu Shinan's "Ode to the Cicada": "Drinking the clear dew from its hanging curtains, its flowing sound emerges from the sparse paulownia trees. Its voice travels far from its high perch, not relying on the autumn wind." Yu Shinan was a great poet of the Tang Dynasty. Emperor Taizong of Tang repeatedly praised him for his virtue, integrity, erudition, literary talent, and calligraphy—truly admirable in all five aspects. The personified cicada in the poet's writing may have been a self-metaphor. "A high perch naturally carries a far-reaching voice, not relying on the autumn wind," this embodies a truth: a person of noble character does not need external support; their fame spreads through their own strength. No wonder Shen Deqian, the Qing Dynasty poet who began taking the provincial examinations at age 22, took them 17 times, and finally passed at age 67, said, "Those who write about cicadas often praise their sound, but this one uniquely honors their character." It seems that in the poet's eyes, the cicada is the embodiment of noble character and unyielding spirit.

　　The cicada's life is very short. "Four years of toil in darkness, one month of enjoyment in the sunlight—this is the life of a cicada." The French entomologist Jean-Henri Fabre succinctly summarized the cicada's life in these words. With its tiny body, the cicada endures four years of hardship, finally breaking through the soil, a long and arduous journey from tree root to treetop, a solitary trek—what hardships it must overcome! During this time, the cicada must also endure physical pain, undergoing a difficult and complex molting process. After all its efforts, it only receives a month of sun and rain, living on dew and wind. From the depths of the soil to the treetops, from its small size and short life to its triumphant song, the cicada's life, though not spectacular, is nonetheless generous and poignant. Therefore, only the cicada can produce such a powerful and stirring sound.

　　Life should be like the cicada's; no matter how short and insignificant life may be, no matter how many hardships and difficulties we encounter, we should strive forward, soar high and sing our hearts out, fully displaying the beauty of life and singing a song of no regrets!

The warmest thing is understanding.

 　　"Understanding"—what a warm word!

　　When someone says "I understand you," it's as if your heart has been gently touched. This feeling isn't like the overwhelming joy or sorrow, but an indescribable tenderness, like a gentle stream flowing into your heart and soul. A simple syllable is worth more than a thousand words.

　　Those who understand you may not need to meet, because two hearts that resonate with each other can cross mountains and rivers. In *84 Charing Cross Road*, the two characters never met, yet their decades-long spiritual exchange unfolded solely through letters.

　　I love the movie *Women Know What I Want*. The heroine falls in love with the hero because he always understands her subtle thoughts, making her feel cherished. This gives her a strong sense of security; finding someone who understands her means she is no longer an island. That's why some say, "Good love is like best friends."

　　And good best friends are as beautiful as love. My friend Lan and I met and became friends online. When I was lost, I would reach out to her for help from afar. I would stammer incoherently, but she would patiently answer my questions, as if sending me a key from afar to unlock my heart, instantly dispelling the fog and revealing clear skies and white clouds. And when I was impulsive and lost my temper, she wouldn't tolerate it; instead, she would use sharp words to jolt me ​​awake, leaving me deeply grateful.

　　That day, I posted a picture of my hometown on social media, and Xue left me a message: "Tomorrow at five o'clock, see you there." At that moment, my heart was filled with emotion. Only she knew that I was homesick. Xue is my closest colleague; we are both far from home, and we understand each other perfectly. She understands my feelings best. In this bustling world, having a confidante by my side is enough to make me proud of all loneliness. With you by my side, I feel like the most cherished flower in the world.

　　A long time ago, I watched a TV program where two boys confessed their love to the same girl. The girl worked outdoors, and one boy presented her with a necklace as a gift, while the other presented her with a pair of gloves. As I expected, the girl chose the "glove boy." Meeting someone you deeply love at the right time is happiness; meeting someone who understands you at any time is luck—the most beautiful缘(yuan, a concept encompassing fate,

　　destiny, and affinity) in life. Zhong Ziqi understood Boya, Baoyu understood Daiyu, and as Eileen Chang said, "Because of understanding, there is compassion." The deepest pain in life is not crying, but being so close yet not understood.

From this night on, I cherish the fleeting years.

 　　"Invited to stay up all night at Acheng's house, the red candlelight illuminates the green gauze; thirty-six years have passed in vain, yet from this night on, I cherish the fleeting years." This poem, "Staying Up All Night," encourages people to cherish their youth as they bid farewell to the old year and welcome the new.

　　This reminds me of Cao Jinqi, a self-taught painter who once carved a square seal for himself that read: "The Thief Painter." He said, "What do I steal? Time. In this world, stealing time is the only thing that isn't a crime. In moments of leisure, if time is short, I paint small pictures, without color; if time is long, I paint large ones." This is probably the secret to Cao Jinqi's success as a self-taught artist.

　　Those who achieve great things are generally good at squeezing in time. The French writer Jules Verne wrote over a hundred science fiction novels in his lifetime—what an astonishing number! Someone asked his wife what Verne's secret was, and she replied, "The secret is that Verne never wasted time." If you can utilize the time you need—such as walking, waiting for a doctor's appointment, or getting a haircut—to learn knowledge and think about problems, you will gain a great wealth.

　　Time is the soil of all achievements in the world. Time brings pain to dreamers and happiness to creators. Seize the moment, and time is the bridge to striving and making progress; wait, and time leads to nothing. Pushkin wrote, "I control time, my thoughts are clear." Clearly, only by skillfully managing and controlling time can one achieve efficient thinking and work, and ultimately, success.

　　Time is a "balance," treating everyone equally; yet it is also like flowing water, relentlessly passing by, second by second, regardless of whether you cherish it. Some people integrate time with their lives. They seize their limited time and life, working diligently and striving for progress. In reality, some people lack the spirit of squeezing and making the most of time. They lack goals, constantly complaining about not having time when doing important things, yet time seems boundless when playing cards, gambling, or engaging in other pursuits.

　　In life, one must be adept at seizing time, especially at seizing "today." To manage time rationally and effectively, we must clearly recognize that only "today" is the time we can work. Yesterday is gone, and tomorrow cannot be borrowed. What should be done today should never be postponed until tomorrow. In this sense, whoever grasps "today" will possess tomorrow and the future. Therefore, the best way to cherish time is to seize every "today."

Days imbued with the fragrance of books

 　　It's hard to imagine the emptiness and desolation my spirit would feel without books to read. This torment and embarrassment stem from the emptiness of my heart and the poverty of my thoughts. Even though my immature writing lacks scholarly refinement, I still aspire to possess the elegance and charm of literature.

　　Reading is like a fundamental need for me, like water and oxygen, a need that is both enduring and profound! This is the reason I cannot abandon or let go of reading.

　　As an ordinary person struggling in the mundane world, it's impossible to completely resist all kinds of troubles and temptations. In this restless era where even a salted fish wants to turn over, while some are busy self-promotion, making big money, and seeking thrills, I sit under the lonely lamplight, talking to myself, writing about reading, which may invite ridicule and disdain from some. Yes, I fear loneliness, but I also enjoy it. Perhaps that's why I pick up a book and let my thoughts wander among the words. When I read, it's as if I'm sitting opposite sages and philosophers, listening to their teachings, feeling my soul enriched and my mind enlightened. When I reach for a book, I feel its fragrance wash over me, permeating my soul and refreshing my spirit…

　　Reading is a blessing. Especially reading classic works is a true enjoyment. The writer Tie Ning said, "Reading is a silent, high-level interaction between literature, the eyes, and the heart." Indeed, the beauty, power, and wisdom gained from books will help our minds grow healthily and robustly.

　　The fragrance of books nourishes the heart.

　　Surrounded by books, I am like an emperor. The fragrance of books, like a spring breeze, transcends worldly strife, quietly drifting into our hearts. It's a pure and beautiful feeling; it carries us away from trivialities and difficulties, lighting a lamp in our hearts, dismantling the barriers of the soul, and settling our lives.

　　Ultimately, life must transcend oneself to be rich in quality, meaningful, and valuable. And where does this transcendence come from? It comes from learning and courage. We know that courage without wisdom is cowardice, and wisdom without courage is foolishness.

　　In truth, life itself is a book, a book without words. Even if we cannot be the prominent "cover," or the "content" with a position, what's wrong with being a punctuation mark? In the ordinariness of life, we work hard, busy ourselves, and the invisible rhythm, the orderly chapters, thus write a book of our successes and failures, praise and blame, joy and sorrow.

　　Life and the fragrance of books should not exist in mediocrity and vulgarity.

　　Life is a lonely road, and we need an interesting book to pass the time.

　　Life is a rushing river, and we need a warm harbor to settle our weary feet…

　　In days imbued with the fragrance of books, book lovers like myself reach out to books and embrace tranquility.

"Public satisfaction" and "Party satisfaction"

     In the film *Jiao Yulu*, there's a debate about "mass satisfaction" versus "Party satisfaction." Jiao Yulu believed that if the masses were satisfied, the Party would also be satisfied; if the masses were dissatisfied, the Party wouldn't be satisfied either. Another viewpoint argued that the Party's satisfaction should come first: "It doesn't matter if a few masses starve to death,

as long as the ideological line is correct." So, while Jiao Yulu was doing his utmost to distribute relief funds and rescue the people from their suffering, another key county leader, Secretary Wu, was busy organizing a superficial exhibition, focusing on pleasing his superiors—the so-called "satisfying the Party."

    Would the Party still be "satisfied" if "a few masses starved to death"? Yet Secretary Wu managed to find a way to "satisfy the Party" (actually, to deceive certain superiors), and with this method, people like Secretary Wu could withstand numerous political struggles, remaining in power, even rising rapidly through the ranks.

    Ignoring the lives of ordinary people and relying on deception and trickery to please superiors, all while claiming it's "satisfying the Party," is a colossal joke. Yet, such examples abound in our lives.

    A newspaper report stated that Liu Shirong, the chief judge and president of the court in Zhongyuan District, embezzled over 120,000 yuan, but this corrupt official, using the same trick of "satisfying the Party," falsely received the honors of "Advanced Worker of Zhengzhou City, Henan Province, and the Nation."

    In reality, all sorts of corrupt and decadent individuals and bureaucrats, under the guise of "satisfying the Party," are actually "satisfying themselves," deceiving superiors and subordinates, suppressing dissent, and using flattery—all for the purpose of protecting their own positions.

    This leads to the thought that the standard for the correctness of any practice lies in whether it conforms to the interests of the vast majority of the people; this should be the fundamental starting point for all our work.

The Origin of Life

     Reading "The Origin of Life," a long and distant road led me into the temple of life. Though initially ignorant, I was captivated by the source of life, and unconsciously began to contemplate its origins.

    Turning a page, I recalled Pascal's words: "Man is but a reed, the most fragile thing in the world. But he has thoughts, which makes him the most powerful creature." Thus, humanity is at the pinnacle of life, and the origin of life requires us to continuously trace its path, to seek wisdom in life.

    From the legend of Nuwa creating humans from stones, from these fragmented stories, we can deduce the origin of life. From the birth of life in the world, from the evolutionary history of chimpanzees and humans, we can easily discover the source of life, tracing back through five thousand years of Chinese culture to extend the understanding of its origins.  Faced with an ever-evolving view of scientific history and a deeply rooted history of development, we can not only trace the origins of life through the lens of scientific history, but also quickly explore the essence of life , using a historical perspective of life to interpret the history of human evolution, traversing the rise and fall of ancient imperial families and the vicissitudes of historical destiny, constantly discovering our own source of life.

    However, at every stage of his life, Forrest Gump had only one goal guiding him, and he fought steadily, tirelessly, and firmly for it until that goal was achieved, or until a new goal emerged. Without simple choices, there will be no absence of distracting thoughts; and those without distracting thoughts are perhaps the ones who can handle life's burdens with ease.

    Marie Curie: Life is not easy for anyone; we must have unwavering perseverance. Most importantly, we must have confidence in ourselves. We must believe that we have the talent to accomplish everything, and that we will complete it no matter the cost. When it is over, you should be able to say with a clear conscience: I have done my best.

    Ostrovsky: The most precious thing a person has is life, and life is given to us only once. A person's life should be lived in such a way that when they look back, they will not regret wasting their years , nor be ashamed of having accomplished nothing. In this way, at the end of their life, they can say that they have dedicated their entire life and all their energy to the most magnificent cause in the world.

    Although different lives have different origins and different pursuits, when tracing the origins of life, we must firmly believe in ourselves, pursue our own life's journey, and explore our future.

    Although we cannot control the scepter of life and death, or the withering of life, we can try, experience, and trace our own life path, using our existing strength to explore the mysteries of life, allowing our short lives to burst forth with brilliant sparks and splashes of life's waves, making life more wonderful. When I learned that a friend far away was ill , I realized how short life is. Although her life was only five short years, it was enough in her eyes. Because in her eyes, she not only dared to pursue the source of life, but was also knowledgeable, living each day earnestly, fighting against illness and her own body; her groans were ever-present in her difficult life. Seeking the source of life with her pen, and enriching her desires with books, her tranquility and dedication to writing, and her calmness and detachment towards life, are all deeply moving and admirable

.     Although I cannot trace the source of life like her, I hope to be like her, possessing a strong and courageous heart, being well-read, multi-talented, and learning how to trace the source of life and how to live a more meaningful life.

    Note: Ouyang Muxue. Although we live in the same country, in different cities and different families, I still deeply admire you. Your talent, your knowledge, your ideals, and your broad-mindedness make you one of my truest friends. Although life is short and finite, I hope you recover well and sincerely wish you a speedy recovery and happiness every day. A friend from afar sends you blessings. 

You won't regret marrying whoever you choose.

     During a break from my shift, several female colleagues were chatting, discussing many issues related to marriage these days. They were all around 30 years old, and they all shared their reflections on marital relationships. Whether they were the traditional, devoted wife type, the demanding and willful type, or a combination of both, none could truly satisfy their husbands.

    In my eyes, Yun was the kind of wife every man would desire. She was capable and efficient, handling all household chores with remarkable skill, treating her husband like royalty, expecting him to do everything for her. Her children were bright, lively, healthy, and well-mannered. Both sets of parents were also very filial, and they lived in harmony. She wouldn't spend money on clothes for herself, but she never hesitated to buy fashionable outfits for her husband. She was devoted to him, constantly talking about him. She herself was healthy, rarely needing her husband's care throughout the year. Logically, her husband should have been very happy, but he actually said to her, "You're not like a woman!" It's truly baffling. In his eyes, what kind of woman qualifies as a woman?

    Kun is a strong yet gentle woman. She is kind, generous, and always has a smile on her face, giving people a refreshing feeling. Her husband is busy with work and can't take care of the family. She manages the household chores, takes care of the elderly and children, and does everything from grocery shopping and cooking to washing dishes. She's often so busy she barely has time to breathe, yet she always smiles and never complains. She is beautiful, speaks softly and steadily, and has an undeniable shyness in her smile. This strong woman, capable in both the public and domestic spheres, carries an unspeakable pain: her husband is having an affair, and it's a widely known and scandalous affair.

    If we're talking about capricious and willful women, then I'm the one. I don't buy groceries, cook, or wash dishes at home; I just clean and do laundry. When I'm unhappy, I stop talking and eating, and my tears flow endlessly. When I'm happy, I cling to my husband, never leaving his side. He often says I have ADHD, that I can't keep him quiet. Whenever he's home, I constantly boss him around, asking him to do this and that. If I tell him I want braised fish for lunch, he'll pout and act like he's suffered a terrible injustice if it's not on the dinner table. My health isn't good either; I'm always in pain, and he's gotten used to it. I myself think that a woman like me easily exhausts her husband, so when he told me he wouldn't marry someone like me in his next life, but someone who could wait on him, I felt guilty.

    Is it true that the woman in a man's arms is always the one who gives him a headache? Is it always true that food from someone else's pot always tastes better than food from your own bowl? Love is fading, novelty is turning into familiarity, and signs of discord are appearing. What should we do?

    Marrying a virtuous and loving wife means enduring her nagging, because the trivialities of daily life put pressure on her. Who else can she confide her little thoughts to if not you, her closest person? If you're not wealthy, you also have to tolerate her haggard appearance, because she's busy taking care of you and the children every day; she has no energy or time to groom herself. Those romantic little gestures, like changing into a sexy outfit, exuding a subtle perfume, and giving you a dreamy look—it's not that she doesn't understand them, but she simply doesn't have the time to cultivate them. She'll have already prepared the clothes for the adults and children for tomorrow, and she'll still be thinking about tomorrow's breakfast while lying in bed. She dedicates herself wholeheartedly to this family, yet you don't appreciate it, complaining about her rough hands, the premature wrinkles around her eyes, her unfashionable hairstyle, and her clothes that never please you… Ask yourself, wouldn't you like a woman like that? Could you tolerate a spoiled and capricious one instead?

    Marrying a strong yet gentle woman means enduring her stubbornness, because she can do anything without you, so she cares about her own feelings. You also have to cater to her little temper tantrums, because although she's strong, she's also a woman made of water; she needs care. You also have to pay attention to her expressions, because sometimes she doesn't want to fully express her intentions; you have to observe carefully. Do you know why she's pouting? It's because she burned her hand and you didn't comfort her. Do you know why she's not talking? It's because she prepared your favorite food, but you only ate a tiny bit. Do you know why she turns her back to you? It's because she bought a new nightgown and you didn't give her feedback… You'll be happy with a woman like this because she has all the basic qualities a woman should have—what more could you want?

    Marrying a capricious and willful woman will bring you endless torment, constantly going back and forth between joy and sorrow. After marriage, you'll definitely feel that "love is an absurd fate, holding onto contradictory lovers." Her temper is so changeable that keeping up with her pace will be difficult. Her emotional instability is so obvious that it often leaves you dizzy. When she's in a bad mood, you should be understanding and try to cheer her up. When she's happy, you should reciprocate, otherwise she'll feel you don't care about her feelings. She's always domineering, always getting to choose the best food and fun activities first. She always places a great deal of dependence on you, making her a "sweet" burden you can't neglect... But when she smiles, she's always so captivating, infecting you with her joy. When she cries, her tears fall like raindrops, touching the softest chord in your heart. She's as innocent and kind as a child, always imagining the best in others, unaware of the harshness of human nature. If your hand is cut, she'll be so distressed she won't even dare to look. She'll surround you, praising you and encouraging you. In public, she'll always hold your hand; she's afraid of being alone and always needs your warmth... Would you marry such a woman or keep your distance?

    If you marry a virtuous and loving wife, you'll want someone who can be charming and affectionate; if you marry a capricious and willful woman, you'll want someone who is reasonable and understanding; if you marry a woman who is both strong and gentle, you'll want someone with a strong personality… How is that possible, unless monogamy is abolished?

    Before marriage, a man's eyes always see a woman's beautiful side, only to discover the flaws behind that beauty after marriage. And, day after day, those flaws gradually obscure the beauty. The husband is still the same husband, but his eyes are no longer the same. He gradually becomes reluctant to come home early, and even when he does, he doesn't want to talk much. At this point, if the woman becomes inappropriately nagging, how can annoyance not arise?

    In fact, women have souls made of water, needing warm care. If the care we deserve always comes at a price, then we should place less hope in it; placing hope in others is a painful thing. Instead of agonizing over why he's so cold towards you, choose something enjoyable for yourself—like reading, exercising, or taking care of your appearance. When you observe his behavior with a detached perspective, no longer questioning his intentions, and instead of waiting for him to take you out as a favor, and instead of asking him what hairstyle or clothes suit you, dress according to your own personality… doing these things might make him sense your independence and charm. He might become anxious and suspicious when your phone keeps ringing, and start to take you seriously.

    The modern world of relationships is complex and rife with temptations. Every individual possesses unique charm. If men and women lack principles and recklessly dabble in love, causing their partners heartache and their families scarred, it's a sign of moral deficiency. I don't want to talk about responsibility anymore, because it exhausts both men and women. If our home still holds happiness, let's work together to create a warm harbor and not linger elsewhere. Because every love story eventually fades, why strive so relentlessly?

    If you'll regret marrying anyone, then cherish the one in front of you. Since you've chosen the one you love, then love your choice wholeheartedly!

Reason versus emotion: "Taiyuan police beat woman to death while demanding unpaid wages"

     On December 13, 2014, an unnatural death occurred at a construction site in Taiyuan City. Seven days later, on December 20, a video was posted online claiming that "police beat a female migrant worker to death while demanding unpaid wages," quickly drawing public attention. On December 26, Taiyuan authorities classified the incident as an "unnatural death." Subsequently, on January 17 of this year, relevant departments in Taiyuan City released their investigation conclusions, stating that the case stemmed from a public security dispute, not from a dispute over unpaid wages. So, what is the true story behind this incident? A reporter from "Focus Interview" investigated. (People's Daily Online, January 30, 2015)

    Yesterday, "Focus Interview" reported on the "Taiyuan police beat a woman to death while demanding unpaid wages" incident. The reporter's investigation reconstructed the events at the scene. From the entire video, what was originally a simple civil dispute escalated into a police-community conflict due to the irrationality of both parties, ultimately leading to a tragedy. In recent years, similar situations have occurred frequently. What were originally minor incidents, which could have been resolved peacefully by sitting down and clarifying the matter, often escalate due to the parties involved being unwilling to back down and sticking to their own opinions. These disputes can escalate from verbal arguments to physical fights, ultimately resulting in tragic deaths.

    In these conflicts between officials and the public, most netizens believe that police officers, urban management officers, and civil servants, as public officials and representatives of the government, are embodiments of power. They are portrayed as arrogant and domineering during law enforcement, beating street vendors and kicking the elderly – practically ruthless bullies. Undeniably, there are indeed some bad apples among public officials who are of low quality and use excessive force, creating a negative impact on the public. However, the majority of public officials are actually upright and conduct themselves civilly. Yet, the media, in order to attract attention, often reports with biased and inaccurate information, highlighting the various "ugly" aspects of public officials, which is regrettable. Over time, the image of public officials deteriorates, and they gradually find themselves in a vulnerable position. This not only weakens law enforcement but also fosters widespread resentment among public officials.

    A hallmark of a mature society is a rational approach to social events. Regarding the incident of "Taiyuan police beating a woman to death while demanding unpaid wages," the media's one-sided and inaccurate reporting not only failed to reveal the truth and inform the public but also exacerbated the conflict. The parties involved, especially the deceased's side, were fundamentally wrong to attempt to resist law enforcement with violence. We now strive to build a country ruled by law. If everyone merely pays lip service without genuine cooperation in practice, it will all amount to nothing. Of course, police abuse of power during law enforcement and interrogation resulting in death must also be dealt with seriously. Violent resistance to law enforcement and abuse of power should not be confused; the deceased's resistance should not be ignored simply because the police caused death. Only by viewing this issue rationally and conducting in-depth analysis can we prevent similar tragedies from recurring. Only when individuals, society, and the media all adopt a rational perspective on every event and every issue will our society and our country truly mature.

Take good care of yourself.

     Almost a month has passed since the New Year's Eve stampede on the Bund in Shanghai. The deceased have been taken care of, the injured are being discharged from the hospital, and those responsible in the area have been punished accordingly. Articles reflecting on the lessons learned are everywhere in the newspapers. Here, I want to focus on a different issue: everyone must pay attention to improving their self-protection awareness and taking care of themselves.

    "Pay attention to protecting yourself" may seem redundant, but like certain laws, policies, and even common sense, knowing and understanding doesn't guarantee action, consistent behavior, or long-term vigilance.

    Regarding the Bund stampede, I think: if, anticipating a large crowd on the Bund that night, one had chosen another place to stroll or stayed home watching TV; if, upon entering the Bund and seeing the massive crowds, one had changed direction and gone elsewhere; if, seeing the steps on the uphill slope crowded, one had remained steady and tried to retreat; if those standing on the steps had been able to maintain their footing, remain calm and composed, and support each other… the stampede might have been avoided. Everyone taking control of themselves and remaining calm ensures the stability of the group and the safety of everyone.

    The incident is over. The lessons are multifaceted. But for each of us as individuals, I believe the most basic thing is to constantly remind and warn ourselves: avoid going to crowded places unless absolutely necessary, and definitely don't squeeze into them; always avoid peak hours and never intentionally cause congestion; calmly analyze and analyze any inflammatory advertisements or promotions to avoid following the crowd or acting impulsively; if you find yourself in a crowded area, don't panic or become anxious; stay calm and try to help others disperse and persuade others. Our public opinion should provide more rational guidance on these issues. Before holidays or events, we should offer reminders and education on relevant knowledge. Schools, factories, and mines should educate and remind students and employees on this topic, and those with the resources should conduct drills regularly. Elderly people and adults should also advise their children and younger generations, offering reminders and dissuading them beforehand. Try to

    avoid traveling during long holidays; avoid peak seasons and popular tourist attractions; to avoid return travel peaks, try to go home a few days earlier. Money can't be earned indefinitely; as long as there's life, there's always hope. Avoid crowded places; if you can't experience beautiful scenery in person, appreciate it. During the New Year, set off fewer firecrackers, drive slower, and drink less alcohol. Don't be competitive or eager to compare yourself to others. Even if you can't buy the finest crabs, you can still enjoy fish, shrimp, chicken, and duck for the New Year. As long as you're alive, that's better than anything else.

Who is the person I care about most?

     A psychological experiment showed that if you were shown a group of photos, and you were among a group of people, you would undoubtedly see yourself first. This is called self-awareness, or narcissism. People care most about themselves.

    If you happen to see an acquaintance looking in a mirror, you'll notice that their reflection is drastically different from their usual appearance—both soft and artificial, reflecting their own preferred expression and angle.

    That's why some retail store owners install mirrors around their shops—a clever trick; the employees' expressions and gestures are visible to themselves, preventing them from looking too bad, which would frighten customers.

    There was a handsome young man who always noticed his reflection in shop windows. He even applied to a broadcasting college and almost got accepted. Once, outside a karaoke bar, he got into an argument with someone over a girl, resulting in a death.

    In court, he insisted that he didn't intend to kill, but rather that he lost control and it was an accidental killing.

    The prosecutor asked, "Where did the knife come from? How many times did you stab him? Did you continue stabbing him after he fell to the ground?"

    He replied, "The knife was with me. I was confused at the time and can't remember how many times I stabbed him."

    The prosecutor showed him the large screen.

    In the surveillance video, he forcefully stabbed the man in the back several times. After the man fell to the ground, he continued to stab him, his face contorted in rage…

    The young man, contrary to his previous attempts to plead for leniency, turned pale, sweating profusely, and lowered his head, unable to look at himself any longer, only able to choke back tears as he confessed. He, who once cared

    so much about his appearance, could no longer bear to see himself like this. Heaven sees what people do. In fact, if a person can see themselves clearly, their expression will be much more serene, and their actions much more virtuous.

    Continuing the previous topic, in a group of people in a photograph, the first person you see is yourself. However, this result was obtained by psychological researchers in Europe and America. An experiment by Chinese scholars overturned this result. They added the head of the experimenter's boss to a group of portraits, and a strange phenomenon occurred: in the experiment, recognizing the boss from a group of portraits took an average of only 2 seconds, while recognizing oneself took an average of 19 seconds.

    When similar tests were conducted on Americans, they were completely unaffected. They didn't care about their bosses or God; their "narcissism" remained unwavering.

    Is it possible that the Chinese care most about their bosses? Not surprisingly. Caring about the boss actually means caring about one's own salary increase, promotion, and career prospects; ultimately, what they care about most is themselves.

Repair your attention

     Let's take a closer look at our day:

    Reluctantly dragging yourself out of bed in the morning, completing a series of chores, and starting class or work.

    You open your phone or computer, and as a responsible person, check your emails first, looking for new tasks or responsibilities.

    After checking your emails, you're suddenly drawn to a coat ad on your inbox. A quick click takes you to Taobao.

    Then you remember a friend wearing the coat and uploading a picture, so you decide to check it out on social media.

    Next, you start browsing Weibo, logging into Renren and WeChat, and are again drawn to something, continuing to browse.

    While navigating the online world, you glance at the time; it's almost noon.

    You silently berate yourself, vowing to work or study hard in the afternoon.

    Finally, you can start working in the afternoon, but you know you can't calm down.

    There's a constant urge to go online for entertainment, but you're trying your best to resist.

    In this torment, finally, it's time to leave class or work.

    A sense of relief washes over you, but a deep weariness creeps in. Looking at the tasks yet to be completed, they remain unfinished.

    You feel the world will never be the same again.

    Sound familiar? For many, this is the norm.

    The little person in the dark room—

    undoubtedly, in today's rapidly developing internet age, we are enjoying its convenience. We can visit relatives and friends without traversing mountains, find our desired goods without shopping malls, learn about world events instantly without reading books or newspapers, and find the books we want without browsing library shelves. All of this often requires only a click. Socializing, shopping, and accessing information are so easy; the world is exhilarating.

    As a result, you have an exceptionally busy and tired brain. This fatigue largely stems from the constant shifting of attention. Imagine your brain is a dark room, the outside world is warm sunlight, and your attention is the only window. A little person inside is manipulating this window. When we concentrate, the little figure clings to the window, almost motionless, basking in the sunlight; when we need to shift our attention, the little figure picks up the window and moves to another part of the room, waiting for the sunlight to arrive. In the past, the little figure lived a carefree life because he hardly moved. But in the internet age, can you imagine how miserable his life is? He's constantly moving the window, sometimes even sprinting like a 100-meter dash, running and running until his hands ache and his legs go numb, only to find that not much sunlight is actually coming in, and the room is still dark and damp.

    Tired? Of course.

    Attention is an absolutely neglected and abused resource. Yes, attention is a precious resource, the gateway for the external environment to enter our consciousness. What enters largely determines who we are and our future development, but few people realize this. We spend so much effort managing our money, time, and relationships, yet we remain blind to this hidden resource of our attention. It's time to truly understand attention.

    The 40-minute theory states

    that human attention is limited. Studies show that people's attention and cognitive abilities have certain limits, much like a computer's processor. If too many tasks are running simultaneously, the speed will slow down or even crash. Even when focusing on one thing, adults can only concentrate for about 40 minutes, and children's attention span is relatively shorter.

    Neil Postman, a world-renowned media culture researcher and critic, argued in *Amusing Ourselves to Death* that with the development of new media, the information explosion has greatly increased people's opportunities for distraction, thus shortening their attention span. In 2012, online writer "He Caitou" announced his temporary withdrawal from Weibo, writing in his blog: "The world is now basically a large display screen made up of fragmented information; complete information is very rare." He must have realized the fragmentation of attention brought about by fragmented information, and the decline in concentration made him anxious. Without focus, what tasks can people accomplish?

    The Cocktail Effect:

    Regarding attention, many people wonder: why do we notice some things and ignore others? Don't rush to find the answer. Now imagine you are walking through a friend's party, and people around you are whispering. Suddenly you think you hear someone say your name, but you can't quite make out what they're saying. This is a classic example of "selective attention." Why are you so sensitive to your own name? First, your name is extremely familiar, and attention tends to capture information we are familiar with. Second, influenced by egocentrism, people are more sensitive to information related to themselves. When you hear your own name, you unconsciously think, "What are those two people saying? Are they talking badly about me?" This is the famous "cocktail party effect" in psychology.

    Psychologists have conducted many experiments on the selectivity of attention. One classic experiment is called "binaural hearing." Psychologists had subjects wear headphones, with different content (words) played on the left and right sides. They then checked the subjects' memory of the words. The results showed that both ears could hear some content, but one ear was more dominant. In other words, attention does indeed have a certain degree of selectivity.

    Where there is selection, there is competition. You may not realize that attention has become a valuable resource that needs to be fought over. For example, negative news about a celebrity suddenly breaks out online, or news about a celebrity's private life. The appearance of such news often signifies the recent release of a new movie starring this celebrity or the release of a new song. This is a well-known form of commercial hype. Some might ask, if it's publicity, why is it mostly negative? Won't this cause people to dislike the movie or song? Of course, this is a valid concern, but businesses are more focused on attracting your attention and grabbing your eyeballs. They want you to remember the event, and the public's penchant for gossip is undoubtedly a key factor in capturing attention. Furthermore, because violent and pornographic content is more likely to attract attention, many businesses exploit this human weakness for hype, targeting your attention and money. People's attention is like a naive child, constantly attracted and controlled by various stimuli, especially evident in the age of information overload. If we indulge our attention, letting it wander among different stimuli without spending time thinking and learning, we become exhausted and even dull.

    Attention repair theory

    suggests that 6% to 7% of people in life want to concentrate but cannot. They are easily distracted, jumping from one task to another; they can't sit still and have difficulty concentrating. This is more common in children, especially boys, who are often a headache for parents and teachers. This problem isn't limited to children; many adults also suffer from an inability to control their attention, a problem often overlooked. Interestingly, research has found that people with attention deficit disorder enjoy watching television. Studies on the relationship between attention deficit disorder and internet addiction have found a significant positive correlation: those with poor attention management skills are more prone to internet addiction. Reflecting on these findings, it's easy to see that new media like television and the internet provide opportunities for distraction, posing a significant threat to people's attention span.

    Distractibility not only affects our efficiency in doing things but also our mental health. Once we realize that attention is a precious resource, we must learn to manage it well. Environmental psychologists Rachel and Stephen Kaplan proposed the "Attention Restoration Theory" in 1980, arguing that mental fatigue often manifests as a lack of concentration, therefore restoring attention should be a key focus of stress reduction. Their research suggests that to restore and even improve attention, one should go to nature.

    Besides going to nature, in this information-saturated, easily distracted era, we should learn to be masters of our own lives. Regarding the advantages and disadvantages of the internet, some scholars say: the internet makes smart people smarter and stupid people stupider.

How does WeChat lower the overall IQ of society?

     In reality, there is indeed a correlation between the internet and the overall intelligence of society. The real problem lies in the abundance of false propositions, false topics, false viewpoints, false summaries, and false headlines that flood the internet, attracting attention, wasting time, and faking judgment. Both the providers and consumers of this pseudo-content are immersed in it, finding it mostly plausible, irrelevant, and meaningless information. If people are constantly bombarded with such information, their intelligence will indeed be affected.

    A recent article titled "WeChat is Lowering the Overall Intelligence of Chinese Society" has gone viral. In fact, several years ago, Japanese author Kenichi Ohmae wrote a book called "Low-IQ Society," expressing concern about the following behaviors among young Japanese people: only caring about things within their own three-meter radius; being able to talk endlessly online but unable to open up to others face-to-face in real life; lacking ambition for success, having poor learning abilities but being indifferent to it; impulsively buying things after seeing TV commercials; officials who shamelessly mispronounce words; giving up immediately when faced with difficulties without thinking; blindly following the crowd and doing whatever the herd…

    History always has a tendency towards "reaction," and whenever something becomes particularly popular, voices of opposition follow. Recently, two things have become particularly popular: Alibaba's IPO, making Jack Ma the richest man in China—this is the overt popularity; there is also a covert popularity: WeChat has subtly permeated and influenced people's daily lives. According to Tencent's recent financial report, WeChat has reached 438 million active users both domestically and internationally. Jack Ma's popularity was dampened by an article claiming that "Taobao is a cancer on China's future economy"; WeChat's popularity has been accused of lowering the overall intelligence of society. Interestingly, this article was widely circulated on WeChat. The success of Alibaba and Tencent is met with both fervent praise and scathing criticism, which precisely illustrates that WeChat provides a platform for different viewpoints. In this respect, WeChat doesn't lower intelligence; rather, it offers a greater possibility for raising the overall intelligence of society. WeChat differs from traditional mass communication;

    it facilitates the interaction and dissemination of personal information within a friend's circle, while also allowing interaction and connection between circles. Information filtered through friend circles can even generate spillover effects. All of this aligns with the openness of the internet. Therefore, if the assertion that WeChat lowers the overall intelligence of society is true, then saying that the internet lowers human intelligence is also not wrong.

    There's a phenomenon in psychology where people typically only see what they want to see, ignoring other content even when it's right in front of them—the saying goes, "The lewd see lewdness, the wise see wisdom." The internet, including WeChat, is a vast repository of diverse content, of varying quality. The key is not what it provides, but what you want to see. Like the core question of existentialism, the most important thing is how you choose. In a sense, the internet can be a powerful tool for people with high IQs, potentially enhancing their intelligence. However, for those with low IQs, the internet's low-level information can sway them, accelerating their intellectual decline.

    In reality, there is indeed a correlation between the internet and the overall intelligence of society. The real problem lies in the abundance of pseudo-propositions, pseudo-topics, pseudo-opinions, pseudo-summaries, and pseudo-headlines that flood the internet, attracting attention, wasting time, and eroding the judgment of the less intelligent. Both the providers and consumers of this pseudo-content are immersed in it, finding it mostly plausible, irrelevant, and meaningless. If people are constantly exposed to such information, their IQ will indeed be affected.

    Research shows that computer and mobile phone screens, besides severely damaging eyesight, also seriously impair a person's inner imagination and conceptualization abilities. This is easy to understand; for example, when reading a moving passage, one can calmly reflect and imagine, but when viewing content on a mobile phone, this inner activity is difficult to activate, and the mind easily becomes sluggish. This clearly also affects a person's intelligence and health. In short, WeChat is a tool. Using it without becoming addicted is a good tool; becoming addicted and lazy to think will backfire.

    Why has WeChat reading become a form of psychological comfort?

    Reading WeChat Moments has become a habitual way of reading for many people. The author distributed 246 questionnaires to a university in Beijing to study the content read on WeChat, why people read this content, and the advantages and disadvantages of WeChat reading. The statistics show that people spend too much time on WeChat and read it too frequently.

    The survey results show that the most frequently read content is, in order: life tips (185), funny jokes (176), life insights (165), workplace experience (145), inspirational stories (142), and health tips (129), accounting for 75.2%, 71.5%, 67.1%, 58.9%, 57.7%, and 52.4% of the total sample, respectively. Other content includes workplace motivation (105), romantic relationships (99), academic topics (92), rumors (78), real-life archive revelations (54), and other (26). The term "other" refers to content read beyond what was listed in the questionnaire, including news and friends' updates.

    The survey found that young people "read" WeChat for several reasons: first, to kill time – whether commuting on the subway or shopping, long waiting times make reading short anecdotes on WeChat seem to pass faster; second, to relieve frustration – venting on WeChat Moments provides relief; and third, to quickly understand the rapidly changing world and what others are focusing on. However, frequent WeChat use stems from boredom, anxiety, and restlessness, reflecting a need for security and belonging, and a desire for attention, self-worth, and achievement.

    WeChat reading has become an addiction, a behavioral dependence. On a superficial level, it suggests a sense of importance, prompting frequent WeChat checks. But in reality, no one is that important; the world keeps turning regardless. At a deeper level, it reflects idleness, anxiety, fear, insecurity, and a lack of self-confidence – a behavioral dependence. In other words, the underlying reason for excessive and frequent WeChat use is people's need for security, including a desire for a safe material and emotional environment. Most people fear and often abhor loneliness, feeling insecure when alone or by themselves. Repeatedly scrolling through WeChat is a way to see what their "friends" are doing, immersing themselves in the WeChat environment to alleviate loneliness and satisfying their need for security.

    Currently, a societal tendency towards restlessness and short-sightedness is pervasive, even in holiday greetings. For example, in the Year of the Horse, blessings almost universally include "May you immediately have X" (house, car, money, health, promotion, partner, happiness), a phrase so overused it fosters a yearning for "everything at once." This reflects, to some extent, the prevailing mentality in today's society—a get-rich-quick mentality. This mentality stems from a reluctance to put in hard work, a restless attitude, and an unwillingness to settle down and cultivate a grounded approach, always seeking to skip steps and achieve instant success.

    Surveys show that the most read content on WeChat consists of everyday life tips, humorous anecdotes, and life reflections. Serious academic content ranks fourth from the bottom, only surpassed by rumors, factual exposés, and other categories. People can't settle down to read classics; instead, they're keen on light reading. Doesn't this perfectly illustrate the current trend of restlessness and short-sightedness?

    Furthermore, the excessive sharing of "classics" and "life philosophies" by WeChat addicts has become a bit excessive. Classics are constantly on people's lips, so they cease to be classics. Many "classics," due to the excessive sharing by some WeChat addicts, have not only lost their enlightening value but have also become superficial and vulgarized. Because people's ability to process information is limited, they always try to conserve cognitive energy and seek shortcuts in the cognitive process. That is, they reduce their cognitive burden by ignoring or blocking some information. In other words, the excessive, over-interpretation, and indiscriminate forwarding of classics on WeChat has led people to develop a sense of blocking, aversion, and even resistance towards classics.

    WeChat Moments is a social platform, one-on-one, where you could say there's no single protagonist, or you could say everyone is a protagonist—everyone is equal. Various "shows" or "posts" on WeChat satisfy the needs of ordinary people and grassroots individuals for attention, their desire for fame, and their need for self-expression. If you're rich, you can post pictures of your car or house; if you're not, you can post pictures of the vegetarian dumplings you ate that day or a photo of yourself. Everyone can post what they consider important, unique, or something they're proud of. Everyone craves attention and believes their existence is significant. Therefore, anything can be "posted," and once you post it, your friends in the circle immediately receive it and pay attention, which implicitly proves your importance.

Where has the time gone?

Delicious food without lust

     There's a restaurant in Vancouver called "Fat Tony's Pizza," a popular spot for locals to relax and socialize. Just after 6 p.m. on Monday, a large black bear came down from the mountain, stormed into the restaurant's parking lot, and ransacked the trash cans.

    Two young women were working at the shop. One of them saw the black bear and quickly ran over to try and close the door. But how could a young girl stop a bear determined to be a robber? The bear pushed the door open with one paw and rushed into the pizza shop. For a moment, all the customers in the shop were stunned and didn't know how to react.

    The robber didn't even glance at the customers. He walked straight to the counter, placed his two front paws on it, grabbed a slice of pizza from the glass display case, and wolfed it down. The two little girls were already paralyzed with fear, completely at the mercy of the black bear.

    Gradually, the customers in the store came to their senses and hid to the side, while someone took out their phone and recorded the robber, which was later uploaded to a website. The video shows the black bear seemingly enjoying a beef and blue cheese pizza, devouring it while licking its lips. In the background, customers can be heard laughing, with a caption: "Hey buddy, don't forget to leave a big tip!"

    As the bear reaches out its paw for another slice of pizza, a voiceover says, "Looks like this guy's a master pizza thief!"

    The bear calmly devoured the entire pizza in one go, completely ignoring the two girls' constant screams.

    One of the customers, a Chinese man, remarked, "This robber really has a code of honor; he's more manly than most people. Aside from the trash cans outside, he didn't damage anything else inside the store, and he certainly didn't harm the two girls!"

Delicious food without lust

There's a restaurant in Vancouver called "Fat Tony's Pizza," a popular spot for locals to relax and socialize. Just after 6 p.m. on Monday, a large black bear came down from the mountain, stormed into the restaurant's parking lot, and ransacked the trash cans.
Two young women were working at the shop. One of them saw the black bear and quickly ran over to try and close the door. But how could a young girl stop a bear determined to be a robber? The bear pushed the door open with one paw and rushed into the pizza shop. For a moment, all the customers in the shop were stunned and didn't know how to react.
The robber didn't even glance at the customers. He walked straight to the counter, placed his two front paws on it, grabbed a slice of pizza from the glass display case, and wolfed it down. The two little girls were already paralyzed with fear, completely at the mercy of the black bear.
Gradually, the customers in the store came to their senses and hid to the side, while someone took out their phone and recorded the robber, which was later uploaded to a website. The video shows the black bear seemingly enjoying a beef and blue cheese pizza, devouring it while licking its lips. In the background, customers can be heard laughing, with a caption: "Hey buddy, don't forget to leave a big tip!"
As the bear reaches out its paw for another slice of pizza, a voiceover says, "Looks like this guy's a master pizza thief!"
The bear calmly devoured the entire pizza in one go, completely ignoring the two girls' constant screams.
One of the customers, a Chinese man, remarked, "This robber really has a code of honor; he's more manly than most people. Aside from the trash cans outside, he didn't damage anything else inside the store, and he certainly didn't harm the two girls!"

Cherry Blossoms (End)

 August.

Gu Yingqi's little cold drink shop opened.
In a strange little town far from Yanhai City, on a beach drowned in laughter.
He spent a lot of money renting a small tin shack, and even erected a huge awning outside the shop, so that his grandmother could lie in the old recliner under the awning, fanning herself with a palm leaf fan and listening to Kunqu Opera.
He still used the cell phone Zheng Jiujiu gave him, but changed the number.
His skin was tanned dark, and he patiently recommended his self-invented soft drink to each customer—Yingqi is a cold drink.
Occasionally, when he had free time, he would sit under the awning and recall the night he and his grandmother "escaped" from Yanhai City.
At that time, he left a letter in the old house.
He believed that Han Dong, who came to call him to go to work the next day, would hand that letter to Zheng Jiujiu.
Actually, it wasn't really a letter.
On the letter paper with his and his grandmother's fingerprints, there was only a house gift contract.
The old house and the house in the military compound were to be given to the Zheng family together. Gu Yingqi had carefully calculated the value when she checked the house sale information, and the combined value of the two houses should be enough to pay off one million.
Since her father never thought of any repayment when he made that decision, she decided to forget about the compensation.