Chapter 125: Colluding in Villainy

The lake is naturally calm, like a mirror, clearly reflecting the leaping bonfire, the shifting flames, and the jade toad in the azure sky. The sun has already set, but its rays reflect from beneath the clouds, casting a red glow upon the lake surface, making it look as if it were burning; everything around has lost its original color, submerged in the crimson light. Suddenly, a brightness appeared before my eyes, and I hurried toward it. It was a clear, man-made lake, like a vast mirror in the countryside, reflecting the blue sky and white clouds. The water is so clear that when a breeze passes, it ripples with golden light. With a "chirp," a swallow flies over, its pointed tail skimming the surface and stirring up concentric rings. Li Bai once praised the Jinci water, saying it is "like jasper." To me, as it floats gently amidst the shimmering waves, it feels dreamlike.

Dongting Lake is vast and calm at this moment, like a poetic realm. Fish swim to the surface: some blow strings of bubbles; others chase and play; some use lotus leaves as little umbrellas to play hide-and-seek; others swim leisurely behind their mothers. In the pond before the gate, the withered lotus stems suddenly sway violently from time to time, followed by red carp leaping energetically, breaking the deathly calm of the water.

On the surface of the lake, there is no ripple; the boat seems to be gliding on a sheet of glass. The shimmering waves, like fine threads on silk, are smooth, tender, and green. Looking into the distance, the color deepens, gradually turning into a dark emerald. Looking up at the sky, clouds move leisurely; looking down into the heart of the lake, there is another sky, where the shadows of clouds wander. The mountain peaks on both banks are inverted in the lake, all in shades of green, accompanying the travelers with deep affection. Just as I thought I had reached the end, a turn reveals the same mountains and the same water. I really wished for some change, but after traveling a hundred and twenty miles, the scenery remained the same.

Compared to the turbulent Dongting Lake, Jingpo Lake is calm and serene. Compared to the vast, round expanse of Taihu Lake, Jingpo Lake is more like a river without ripples. Daming Lake, by comparison, is merely a pool of clear water. Compared to it, West Lake is like a beautiful young woman with "the shy grace of spring mountains and the captivating gaze of autumn waters," while this is like a plain, natural, and chaste maiden.

Looking out into the distance, the water shines brilliantly, dotted with sails, and the small islands in the lake are like pieces of jasper inlaid in the landscape, appearing incredibly charming. The lake water is truly tempting, especially in such hot weather. As I approached the shore, the membrane of heat before me vanished. The water rippled and flashed, as if coated in a layer of gold. My hand could not resist, and I reached gently into the water. Oh! That refreshing feeling is truly beyond words. The ripples gently caressed the white marble pool wall; the swaying autumn water flowed back and forth under the "Fish-Watching Bridge." Those small green islands are like pearls inlaid on the lake, and at first glance, they also look like green waves rolling among the clouds. Colorful sails dot the Thousand-Island Lake, surrounded by green trees, looking so enchanting.

Looking down at the clear lake water, the ripples stirred by the wind look like lace appearing and disappearing. Listen to the pine waves, low and melodious, as intriguing as a legend. And the frail, pure white reeds swaying in the wind show their unique charm, so delicate that you cannot bear to touch them.

As the sun sets, the blood-red afterglow dyes half the sky, and the lake surface blushes faintly like the face of a shy girl. Right next to the ridge, there is a reservoir surrounded by big mountains; the water is as green as a cat's eye, which is awe-inspiring. Looking down at Lu Lake from the Hongque Tower, there are several exquisite small pavilions on the lake, the green waves shimmering, and the golden sunlight scattered on the water, truly like thousands of brilliant gemstones flashing with dazzling light.

Ah, the water of Taohua Pond is so green, as if it were a flawless emerald. The rippling autumn water gives a touch of coolness. Look! On Taohua Pond, there are scattered withered lotus leaves, their edges turned yellow, but crystal-clear water droplets are mischievously hiding on them. Under the withered lotus, red goldfish swim leisurely, and the maple trees on both sides cast mottled shadows—yellow, green, red, white, and black!

The spring pond's beauty lies in the word "quiet"—so quiet that one feels it is not a pool of water, but a stretch of greenery—a lush, crystal-clear green meadow. The blue sky, green trees, and white clouds all leave their beautiful reflections in its embrace, and a touch of contemplation permeates the quiet turquoise waves. Because of the eternal tranquility, it possesses an extraordinary clarity: the swimming fish and sand at the bottom are all exposed to the eye—naturally, these are not the eyes of a recluse, but a pair of eyes burning with the fire of hope.

The spring pond's beauty also lies in the word "movement." It is like a piece of ever-changing green silk, so beautiful and pure. Under the sunlight, shimmering waves leap up like flying flowers and broken gold; each spot of light has a little sprite flickering, stretching, and trembling. When a breeze blows, ripples form, slowly advancing from one side to the other. Then another, and another... The originally clear boundaries on the water surface are like a line of light ink on rice paper, gradually spreading under the cover of misty veils, eventually becoming somewhat blurred.

The vast desert is monotonous and lonely, but it is also so broad and open, allowing you to let the wild horse of your thoughts gallop in this vast space. In the evening, Sayram Lake gradually turns deep blue, and the sky and the lake merge into one; it is hard to tell whether the sky dyed the lake blue or the lake dyed the sky blue. At noon, under the brilliant sunlight, Sayram Lake is like a shimmering piece of silk, with green grass, red flowers, white sheep, yellow cattle, gray camels, and golden horses, just like colorful clouds drifting by the lake.

Thousand-Island Lake is not a natural lake; it is an artificial lake of 860,000 mu formed upstream after the completion of the Xin'anjiang Hydropower Station, with an area equivalent to more than 100 West Lakes. Because the spring rain pool is no less than the Nanlao Spring: the spring water is flowing and hard to congeal into a piece of jasper, but this pool water is quiet, soft, and beautiful, like an emerald. The lake water is green, as if someone had draped a veil as thin as a cicada's wing over it, making one afraid to breathe deeply for fear of breaking it. The rippling ancient lake shines under the sun; the graceful willow branches are like the washed hair of a young girl. The water level has risen by nearly 100 meters, some peaks have submerged into the water, and some have become islands in the green water. These islands are the mountains I saw earlier standing in the water. There are 1,078 such islands of various sizes on the lake, hence the name "Thousand-Island Lake."

The broad lake surface passes through the jade-colored Seventeen-Arch Bridge, stretching its arms far away to embrace the blue sky, finally melting into the faint clouds and mist. When the sky is high and the air is crisp, looking into the distance, the eyes are full of shining water marks, swaying slightly. Layer upon layer of waves push toward the shore, lapping against the stones. The water is permeated with a chill, as if it had been clarified; the deep colors all sink to the bottom of the lake, and the curling water mist rotates and soars, leisurely and unrestrained, in the autumn wind.

West Lake is located in the west of the city, covering an area of about 5.6 square kilometers. Because of its beautiful scenery and quiet environment, it has been a famous tourist destination since ancient times. People say: "There is heaven above, and there is Suzhou and Hangzhou below." Suzhou refers to the Suzhou gardens, and Hangzhou refers to this West Lake. West Lake is composed of an inner lake and an outer lake. The two lakes are connected by water, only separated by a long Su Causeway in the middle. Called a causeway, it is actually six closely connected stone bridges of different shapes. The area of the outer lake is larger than that of the inner lake, and three sparkling pearls are dotted on the lake: Santan Yin-Yue (Three Pools Mirroring the Moon), Xiaoyingzhou, and Huxin Pavilion. Santan Yin-Yue is regarded by people as the best of all West Lake scenes, mainly because of the three stone towers standing on the lake. The two-meter-high stone towers have holes on five sides to let light through, and on a moonlit night, one can see the spectacle of "the moonlight mirroring in the pools, the shadows divided into three." On the Huxin Pavilion, there stands a stone tablet with the characters "Chong Er" inscribed on it. It is said that it was inscribed by Emperor Qianlong himself, implying the four characters "Feng Yue Wu Bian" (Boundless Wind and Moon), a sentiment he felt during his night tour of West Lake. In addition to the three scenes on the lake, there are many beautiful scenes along the lake, such as Willow Orioles Singing in the Willows, Viewing Fish at Flower Harbor, Autumn Moon over the Calm Lake, and Lingering Snow on the Broken Bridge.

We got off the bus, crossed a slope, and through the gaps in the treetops, we vaguely saw the blue lake water. The further we went, the larger the lake surface became, and gradually the lake surface was basically presented to our eyes. The high mountains on all sides embraced the lake; the mountains and water relied on each other, with a magnificent momentum. Speedboats on the lake were like stars dotted in the middle of the lake. Suddenly, a water belt was stirred up from south to north on the lake. Looking closely, it was a speedboat flying across the lake surface. Groups of birds were constantly shouting and soaring above the lake, forming a magnificent and dynamic picture.

In midsummer, we often rowed small boats into the deep lake. The boat rippled the green waves, making a rhythmic "slap-slap" sound, and circles of ripples spread out in an orderly manner as we moved forward. At this time, several of us stood at the bow of the boat, and the beautiful appearance of the lake was fully in view: clear water curving, curving clear water, completely wrapping the emerald green water weeds. Strands of water weeds were like the hair of a fairy, floating with the waves, sometimes stretching and sometimes curling, lingering with the lake water and teasing fish and shrimp. In the distance, pink dots and pieces of greenery appeared, and the fragrance of lotus flowers drilled directly into your nostrils, tempting us to row faster and sail into the embrace of the lotus. We stopped the boat where the lotus leaves were densest and the fragrance was strongest, and lay on the bow and cabin respectively. The lotus leaves were each as large as an umbrella, hiding our bodies in their thick green shade. Several bright lotus flowers and tender little lotus pods poked their heads out, as if teasing us.

The pond was very small. The usually lively goldfish were now staying there quietly, perhaps asleep. In the middle of the pond was a piece of mountain stone, a work of nature, which looked even more interesting and picturesque under the washing of the moonlight. The moon reflected on the dark green bottom of the pond, and after being washed by the water, it appeared extra clear and distant, like the charming eyes of Mona Lisa, making one yearn for it. A breeze brushed by, drawing a pale green ripple on the calm pond water. The pond water rippled slightly, kissing the mountain stone, making a light, metal-like clinking sound, which seemed extra light and leisurely in the quiet night...

Changdang Lake, as a delicate younger sister of Taihu Lake, lies quietly on this treasure land of Jintan. When I first came to Changdang Lake, I felt a hazy, indescribable love. In the distance, the sky was blue, without a trace of clouds, without a single bird, like a huge blue silk scarf, gently covering it. Nearby, the water was pale green, so pure and lovely, with no debris in the water. Even the little fish that loved to play seemed unable to bear to break this quiet green and swam to the bottom of the water. The water surface was like a flawless gemstone, a pale green early spring pasture. I was on a small boat, letting it drift, and before I knew it, I found myself in the middle of the vast lake. Only then did I feel that the world was so beautiful. Looking around, I couldn't see any miscellaneous colors, only feeling that there was an attractive green everywhere. How could I describe this lovely green? Could those gorgeous words and beautiful sentences in the "Cihai" dictionary compare to the green before my eyes? I obsessively stretched out my hands, scooped up a handful of pure, green water, and gently put it into my mouth, feeling that she was more fragrant than plum blossoms and sweeter than honey... I scooped up another handful of pure green and held it in my arms, and suddenly felt an incomparable ease in my heart, and my spirit was also lifted.

The water of Xuanwu Lake is so clear and bright, simply like a huge, brilliant green gemstone. A breeze brushed across the lake surface, lifting layers of ripples, and under the sunset, the lake water shone, like fish scales, like broken jade, making people feel relaxed and happy. The slightly rising waves, like chasing and playing children, rushed to the shore row after row, and then giggled and retreated. This repeated cycle never felt tiring. Crystal water droplets splashed on my hands, giving a touch of coolness and making people feel refreshed. Standing on the shore, one could see the bottom of the water at a glance, and sometimes one could even see some small fish and shrimp swimming around, making people feel that there was life in this green water, which brought vitality to the lake water and added a sense of mystery.

At dawn, under the pale green sky, the reservoir was surprisingly quiet. Faint water mist floated on the water surface, like a girl wearing a light veil. The small islands in the water seemed to be floating in the mist. Looking at the reservoir from afar, it was so much like a silver-gray silk ribbon, winding away into the distance...

The lake is quiet, like a mirror, clearly reflecting the blue sky, white clouds, red flowers, and green trees; the lake is alive, with layers of scaly waves rising with the wind, accompanying the jumping sunlight, accompanying my heart, chasing and playing; the lake is soft, with a breeze and ripples, like a piece of silk dancing in the wind; the lake is hard, like a flawless emerald flashing with beautiful luster. The quiet lake is lovely, but the lake in the rain is even more moving. The silk-like spring rain drifts down, weaving and weaving, weaving a large piece of green "brocade" on the lake surface. On the "brocade," there are endless rings, like fresh flowers embroidered by a beautiful girl. When the thunderstorm comes, the lake is the liveliest. Listen, there is a flash of light in the sky, that is the opening fireworks going up to the sky. "Boom," the salute sounds, and the meeting is about to begin. When the heavy rain falls, the party begins immediately. Have you seen the blossoming rain flowers competing on the lake surface? Those are the jade flowers on the heads of the dancing goldfish girls; do you want to know if the program is wonderful? The "thundering applause" of "crashing" will tell you everything.

In the embrace of mountains more than 2,000 meters above sea level, the sudden appearance of such a deep green lake is truly amazing. Looking closely at the pool water reflecting the surrounding mountain ridges and pine trees, the light and shade are distinct; looking at the snow-white caps on the peaks in the distance, they appear and disappear; the afterglow of the setting sun is sprinkled on the clear water surface. When a breeze passes, the waves are shimmering, just like thousands of fish churning; on the hillside is an ancient spruce forest, lush and green; little squirrels jump between the branches, looking at us from time to time; there are fallen leaves in the forest, and when you step on them, they make a rustling sound, giving people a soft feeling. Oh, all of this is simply a wonderful ink painting.

Qinghai Lake was called "West Lake" in ancient times, and "Tso Ngonpo" in Tibetan, meaning "blue lake." The lake is elliptical, slightly longer from east to west, with a circumference of more than 300 kilometers, an area of 4,583 square kilometers, and an altitude of 3,195 meters. As the seasons and weather change, the scenery of Qinghai Lake is different. In spring and summer, the mountains are green and the water is beautiful, and hundreds of birds compete to sing; in severe winter, the snow is vast and the lake is frozen; on a sunny day, the blue sky is like a mirror, and the water and sky are the same color; on a cloudy day, the sea of clouds is vast, and the waves are sounding. Looking at Qinghai Lake from afar, it is like a huge sapphire shining with brilliant light; looking closely, it is like a boundless vast ocean. In the morning, Qinghai Lake is shrouded in white fog, and it merges with the sky, making it hard to tell where the sky is and where the water is; in the evening, the rosy clouds are projected on the lake surface, reflecting the layered waves, just like a painter unfolding a gorgeous colorful ink painting for you; at night, the moon sprinkles its bright light on the calm lake surface, the lake surface is shimmering, and the stars all over the sky are reflected in the lake, which is truly the sky in the lake and the lake in the sky. Bird Island, Haixi Mountain, Haixin Mountain, Sand Island, and Gu-Zhi Mountain (Three Stones) are five small islands inlaid in the lake like five bright pearls, adding color to Qinghai Lake.

The types of fish in Qinghai Lake are relatively simple, mainly producing naked carp (commonly known as Nie fish). Naked carp are scaleless, delicious, and nutritious, and are world-famous. It takes about 11 to 12 years for a naked carp to grow from a fry to one jin, which shows the preciousness of naked carp. In order to reasonably use the resources of naked carp, the government has taken measures to prohibit indiscriminate fishing. Haixin Mountain in the lake has an area of nearly 1,000 square meters. It is said that it is famous for producing dragon horses, so it is also called Dragon Horse Island. There are strange rocks and weeds on the island. In midsummer, it is covered with red and green, and birds sing and flowers smell; in severe winter, the ice rocks are rugged, and the scenery is very beautiful. Bird Island is located near the Buha River estuary in the west of Qinghai Lake. The area of Bird Island is only 0.4 square kilometers. Because the air on the island is fresh, the food is sufficient, and the environment is elegant, it attracts nearly 100,000 migratory birds of 11 species such as bar-headed geese, brown-headed gulls, ruddy shelducks, and whooper swans to inhabit and breed here every year. It is known as the "Kingdom of Birds." When you step into the Kingdom of Birds, the birds are startled and fly in groups, and the sound spreads for several miles. Sometimes, birds that are on the verge of extinction will fly to the island. The state has set up special agencies here to be responsible for the breeding and research of birds.

Standing on the edge of East Lake and looking out, I couldn't see the edge of the lake. The cool breeze like mint blowing in my face made me feel refreshed and clear. Listening to the tinkling sound of the lake water, it was like a musician plucking wonderful strings; I seemed to see the lively and leaping shadow of the lake water, which made me feel excited. Looking at this green lake water, it is green and lush, not wild, not turbid, delicate and gentle. I couldn't help but bend down and scoop up a handful of water, thinking that it would definitely dye my hands green, but it was just colorless emptiness, pouring into the lake from between my fingers, crisp like ice hitting a jade plate, and then it returned to its original color, crystal clear, soft, and murmuring toward the distance.

North of the town, across the road, are the towering mountains, and in the mountain gorge is the Tongshanyuan Reservoir. The reservoir is surrounded by mountains, with lush trees on the mountains and heavy fruits on the branches: crystal-like grapes, yellow oranges, and sweet and red persimmons... Looking at it at a glance, it is like a huge jade plate. There are many boats on the water: small wooden boats, motor sailboats, motorboats... The dam is as high as a twenty-story building, like a giant gate blocking the rushing water. At the foot of the East Mountain next to the reservoir is a hydroelectric power station, which transmits powerful electric current to factories and villages every day.

The world-famous Five Great Lakes are like five lotus flowers on the same stem, with the blue sky reflected on the surface of the pool, just like five mirrors for a fairy to dress up; and like five crystal fire pearls, inlaid in the emerald green plain and at the foot of the thick green mountains. There are dots of fishing sails floating on the water surface of the Lianchi, and bursts of breeze send melodious fishing songs from the pool surface. The oars break the blue fairy mirror, stirring up layers of charming light waves... Suddenly, with a "pop" of a gunshot, the spillway time arrived. I saw the high gate slowly rise, and suddenly a clear and smooth stream gently poked its head out, as bright and bright as soft gauze, quite a bit of a graceful lady's posture. The gate opened higher and higher, and the water flow became larger and larger. It did not flow as gently as before, but became angry: it rushed and roared, violently rushing toward the first flood control dam. The flood control dam tried to block its path, but the torrent jumped up and crossed the flood control dam. Those waves were like the smiling faces of winners, held high. White waves rolled, unstoppable. Some people described it as a flock of sheep suddenly appearing in the grass, and others described it as white clouds rushing rapidly in the blue sky. No, it is not as weak as a flock of sheep, nor as frivolous as white clouds, but like a soaring dragon leaping into a deep pool. The thousands of splashes stirred up, soaring more than ten feet high in the water mist, under the irradiation of the sun, like flying beads and splashing jade, colorful. It was full of infinite power, showing a magnificent momentum, daring to clear away the slag, stones, sludge, and dirty water that blocked its progress. The torrent jumped off the dam and became wider, but still maintained the momentum of rushing forward. The flood in the dam was rolling, and the torrent in the stream was rushing. The momentum of pouring a thousand miles was moving and refreshing.

Stepping on the lake dam, I saw the water and sky in one color, with shimmering waves. Through the clear lake water, I could see the water weeds at the bottom of the lake, green like a carpet. The water chestnut vegetables floating on the water surface and the graceful lotus leaves looked so much like the flowers on that green carpet! Following the singing of the girls, a lotus-picking boat rowed out of the reeds, plowing the calm lake surface. The fish were jumping, not knowing whether the sound of the small oars startled them or the singing of the girls attracted them. I sat down by the railing and stretched my bare feet into the lake water. The slightly cool and gentle water licked my feet, and an emotion that seemed to have merged into nature surged in my heart, making me feel that the water of Thousand-Island Lake was so affectionate, the wind was so fresh, the sunlight was so bright, and the trees were so green. I really wanted to stay here forever, with the mountains as companions and the water as a dragon, enjoying this beautiful lake and mountain scenery every day, which would truly be leisurely and comfortable.

As the sun sets, the blood-red afterglow dyes half the sky, and the lake water blushes faintly like the face of a shy girl. The lake surface covered by green trees is clearly divided into two colors: blue and green. Blue makes you think of the blue sky; green makes you remember the grassland. The surroundings are surprisingly quiet, the green from light to deep, from deep to light, pale gray mist gauze shrouds Thousand-Island Lake, making it mysterious, but the clear lake water is so open-minded. I saw the charm of green here. It turns out to be so magnificent. Before you have reacted, it has poured into people's eyes like a breached dam, making you unable to help but be infected and conquered by its momentum and vitality!

Sayram Lake is called "Sayram Kul" in the Kazakh language, which means the Lake of Wishes. It is located between the mountains connecting the Ili Kazakh Autonomous Prefecture and the Bortala Mongol Autonomous Prefecture, at an altitude of more than 2,000 meters, and is a famous alpine lake in our country. The area of the lake is 120 square kilometers, which is much larger than Yining City! The deepest part of the lake is more than 90 meters, and there are undulating mountains at the bottom of the lake. The lake water is clear and sweet, and because it contains two thousandths of salt minerals, drinking a small amount can refresh the heart and spirit, clear the fire, and clear the bowels. Do you know? Sayram Lake is constantly changing. According to the research and investigation of the physical meteorologist Zhu Kezhen, 700 years ago, it was still a piece of ice peak around it. But today, the beautiful Sayram Lake is already an endless grassland around it. However, according to the speed of the increase in lake water in recent years, perhaps in another 700 years, this place will become a vast ocean again.

The warm sunlight falls gently, brewing a pot of fragrant tea, and in the wisps of freshness, I gently let the book unfold, stroking the words on it, letting each jumping note guide me to the promised land everywhere, and an indescribable comfort drifts in my heart.

"Reading is like 'visiting' invisibly," Yang Jiang said so. Reading did indeed take me to many people's homes. I shook hands with Yue Fei and shouted the heroic words together: "With high aspirations, I eat the flesh of the Hu captives when hungry; in idle conversation, I drink the blood of the Xiongnu when thirsty." I patted the heartbroken Liu Yong and walked through the "willow bank, morning breeze, and waning moon" with him. I had just seen the grape wine and luminous cups at the frontier of the Western Regions, and then smiled and bought pear blossom wine under the green flag. I talked freely with friends from all over the world and raised our glasses to laugh together. Gradually, I was drunk in the mountains of poetry and the waters of words, and began to slowly merge with the book, indulging and not knowing the way back.

Since I don't know the way back, there is no need to go back. It is a special flavor to have an adventure in reading. Sinbad led me to visit Solomon's temple, bypassed the valley where giant pythons circled, and passed through the end of the world where giant whales haunted; Verne put me in a submarine to sail twenty thousand leagues and brought me to the Mysterious Island; in the gentle waves of Cambridge, I saw the melancholy Little Prince asking questions desperately. I walked under the crotch of countless giants, and countless little people walked under my crotch. Oh, what a wonderful journey. Reading brought magic and surprises to my side one by one, letting me travel with them.

Walking and walking, an old man named Knowledge also joined our ranks. The light of wisdom shining on him passed through my eyes, as if lighting up a lamp in my heart. I learned that magnificent giant towers would also tilt, and invincible steel would also sink; some people blocked sharp blades with their bodies for a circle, and some people nailed their lives to the cross for a bag of copper coins. Swimming in the ocean of knowledge is like a bird gliding freely in the sky. Once the speed of thought is released, even light does not run as fast as it; but reading and books are like the most perfect black hole, which can always lead thinking to it, accumulate in it, and prepare for the most magnificent explosion. The clouds and moon of the eight-thousand-mile road all walked into the depths of my soul in reading.

Suddenly looking up, the sunlight is still smiling and coming towards me. I gently touch the little tadpoles on the book, those wonderful little elves, recalling the reading experience in the curling tea fragrance, letting enjoyment and I become one.

When I am free, I make a pot of tea, pick up a book in the wisps of light mist, tasting the tea fragrance, smelling the book fragrance, chewing repeatedly, savoring every word, every sentence—this is my greatest pleasure in my spare time. Some people say that reading is an art. Yes, reading is really like this.

Reading is an art of enjoying life. Mr. Five Willows "liked to read, did not seek to understand thoroughly, and every time he had an understanding, he was happy and forgot to eat." When you are bored and depressed, reading can make you happy; when you are confused and melancholy, reading can calm your heart and let you see the road ahead; when you are in a happy mood, reading can let you discover more beautiful things around you and let you enjoy life more. Reading is the most beautiful enjoyment. "There is a golden house in the book, and there is a face like jade in the book."

Reading is an art of self-improvement. "If jade is not cut, it will not become a vessel; if a person does not learn, he will not know the way." Reading is a learning process. A book has a story, a story narrates a life, and a life reflects a world. "Read ten thousand books, travel ten thousand miles" is exactly this truth. Reading poetry makes people elegant, and reading history makes people wise. Reading every book will have different gains. "Hanging beams and pricking thighs," "studying by the light of fireflies and snow," since ancient times, diligent reading and self-improvement have been every person's lifelong pursuit. Reading is the most elegant quality, which can shape a person's spirit and sublimate a person's thoughts.

Reading is an art of enriching life. A life without books is like a hollow bamboo, empty. Books are the greatest wealth in life. Jews let children kiss books painted with honey to remind them that: books are sweet, and to let sweetness fill life, one must read. Reading is the most precious passbook in life. If you accumulate bit by bit, you will find that you are the richest person in the world.

Reading is an art of comprehending life. Reading Du Fu's poems makes people understand the bitterness of life, reading Li Bai's poems makes people understand the corruption of officialdom, reading Lu Xun's articles makes people recognize the darkness of society, and reading Ba Jin's articles makes people feel the hope of the future. Every book is a friend who teaches us how to look at life. Reading is an indispensable lesson in life. Reading books and comprehending life helps us walk every step of life well.

Books are lamps, reading illuminates the road ahead; books are bridges, reading connects each other's shores; books are sails, reading pushes the boat of life. Reading is an art of life, and because of reading, life is more exciting!

That was a charming afternoon. You sat by the window reading a thick old book, the afternoon black tea exuded a rich sweetness, the old dog you raised lay lazily at your feet, the sunlight baked your outline into golden yellow, mixed with this lazy time, and brewed into memory.

This is your memory alone, like a dewdrop attached to your fingertips in the early morning. You smell its fragrance, but you can't grasp it, and you can't describe it. Look, reading is like this. It's just a feeling.

Sometimes as you read, it's as if you have embraced the whole world. You are not just you, you can observe, like a world-weary wandering poet, watching everything happen before your eyes. The story begins, rises, turns, and finally ends. You collect them, write them into songs that are either light or sad, and sing them carefully. As you read, you read life, read a taste, and read a realm. At that time, you are like an open-minded old man, calmly watching the joys and sorrows of life. Perhaps life is just a waning moon in the quiet night. It looks cold and incomplete, but in fact, it is always full. It is just a distant planet spinning quietly. Of course, sometimes you will indulge in it, inevitably being manipulated by fate, occupied by the seven emotions and six desires, which is because we need love, need hate, and no one can be exempted from vulgarity. You read intently, so nervous that you almost forget to breathe. Isn't this the excitement of life? It pulls you to run wildly. You are led by a mood, running blindly forward, the wind howling in your ears, this moment obliterates reason, and you cast aside the mask of life at once. Like a child, you shout, collide, and have no scruples. You even bravely blame the unfairness of fate, scolding the darkness, obscurity, bitterness, and weakness of this society.

At that moment, you cried recklessly, tears wet the pages of the book, and you found that you were just reading other people's stories. But why did you see your own shadow there, and you felt that you lived so vividly, so real? At one moment, you gave all your emotions to it without regret.

A long time later, when you picked up that book again and recalled the feeling at that time, you shook your head in confusion. You may have forgotten why you were so moved.

This is reading. You never utilitarianly wanted to get anything from it, no conspiracy, no pressure, you just vaguely tasted life there. You cry, you laugh, you hate, you love. You have read it, and then you forget it, turn around, and return to the busy reality. Reading is catalyzed by your emotions at that moment, because you are happy, you read happiness; because you are sad, you read sadness.

Reading is like this, and life is like this. If you seize a certain moment of blooming, life is as brilliant as summer flowers.

Since human beings separated from the ignorant animal world, there was language first, then characters, then articles, and finally books—sometimes when I think of this long process, I can't help but feel a thrilling feeling in my heart, because without this process, there would be no "reading," and today, what an unbearable deficiency this is!

However, although everyone cannot do without reading, there are differences in the realm of reading.

One realm is to seek fame and career for exams. In my opinion, this kind of reading is "low grade" because it can no longer be regarded as real knowledge, and of course, there is no real happiness to speak of. When fame and fortune are always shining in the eyes of the reader, any knowledge has to be reduced to a "stepping stone." Once the door to fame is knocked open, it is inevitable to be abandoned at will. Can this not be considered a blasphemy of knowledge? This kind of reading is evidenced by the imperial examination scholars of the past, and today there are examples of compatriots who follow one another to take various exams—college entrance exams, postgraduate entrance exams, certificate exams, and civil service exams. Don't you see all kinds of candidates sitting or standing and frowning while reading the "scriptures" outside the examination room before each exam? This kind of reading is rather a nightmare in the reader's life experience, with only pain and no joy. However, in the world, there are few people who can avoid this "painful reading," which cannot but be said to be a kind of alienation.

Another realm of reading is to exhaust knowledge and truth. This kind of reading can be listed as "high grade" because it has broken away from one's own fame and fortune and originates from human beings' great curiosity. How many giants of science, ancient and modern, Chinese and foreign, have explored a certain problem, exhausted their studies, and worked tirelessly; there are even some rare "generalists" who dabble in multiple disciplines at the same time and explore the mysteries of the world and life in reading. This is automatic, independent, and conscious "reading." On the road to exhausting knowledge and truth, they are brave travelers and explorers, and we have no reason not to pay deep respect to them. I would even say that those who can enter this realm have already obtained the blessings of life.

However, Zhuangzi once said: "Life has an end, but knowledge has no end. Following the endless with the limited is dangerous." This is a "partial truth." Therefore, in my eyes, although the second realm mentioned above can be counted as "high grade," it cannot reach the "top grade" realm. The reading that can be called "top grade" is the reading without desire or demand, a walk of the soul, a wandering of the spirit. Such readers not only have no desire to seek wealth from books, but also have no pursuit of digging for treasure troves of knowledge from books, and even less impulse to extract moral proverbs from books to save the world. He sees kindness and beauty in books; he is moved by the excitement in books and cries for the happiness in books. He always needs to read, but has no demands on "reading," just because reading makes him full and quiet. What "reading" gives him is the air and food of the spirit, and he thus transcends the material and realistic life.

The three realms of reading have similar exteriors, but the spiritual cores are vastly different. Finally, I have to admit that which is higher and which is lower, different people will have different judgments. "Low grade," "high grade," and "top grade," in the minds of different people, the order may be exactly the opposite.

Listen to nature, the pine waves, it is the rhythm of the pine forest; the chirping of insects is the private chirping of autumn insects, and the sorrowful sound is the complaint of the cuckoo.

Listen to the soul, tender and affectionate, it is a piece of tenderness; fierce like a torch, it is a piece of enthusiasm; kind greetings, it is a piece of ice heart.

Listen to the language of books, there are the subtle words of Qu, Tao, Li, and Du, fresh and clear; there are the brilliant literary talents of Zhimo and Eileen, tender as a dream; there are the flying personalities and human insights of Han Han and Annie.