Chapter 126: The Heaven-Ruling Mirror

The lake water remains as calm as a mirror, clearly reflecting the leaping bonfire, the flickering flames, and the jade-like moon in the azure sky. The sun has set, but its rays reflect from beneath the clouds, casting a crimson glow upon the lake. The water seems to ignite, and everything surrounding it loses its original color, submerged in the sea of red light. Suddenly, a bright scene catches my eye, and I hasten forward. It is a clear, man-made lake, like a grand mirror amidst the countryside, reflecting the blue sky and white clouds. The water is so limpid that when a breeze passes, it ripples with golden glimmers. With a soft chirp, a swallow flies over, its pointed tail skimming the surface and stirring a series of concentric rings. Li Bai once praised the waters of Jinci as "like jasper," and as I watch them drift gently amidst the shimmering waves, it feels dreamlike.

Dongting Lake is vast and tranquil 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 tiny umbrellas to play hide-and-seek; while others swim leisurely behind their mothers. The withered lotus stalks in the pond before the door suddenly sway violently, followed by red carp leaping with such vitality that they shatter the deathly stillness of the water. On the lake, the surface remains rippleless, and the boats seem to glide upon a sheet of glass. The shimmering waves are like fine patterns on silk, smooth and verdant. Looking into the distance, the colors deepen until they turn into a profound emerald. Gazing at the sky, clouds drift leisurely; looking down at the heart of the lake, another sky appears, with the shadows of clouds wandering within. The mountain peaks on both banks stand inverted in the water, a uniform green, accompanying travelers with tender devotion. Just as one reaches the end, a turn reveals the same mountains and the same water. One yearns for a change, yet after traveling a hundred and twenty miles, the scenery remains unchanged. Compared to the turbulent Dongting Lake, Jingpo Lake is calm and serene; compared to the vast, boundless Taihu Lake, Jingpo Lake is more like a river with undisturbed waves. Daming Lake seems but a pond of clear water in comparison, and West Lake appears like a beautiful young woman—"low and graceful as spring mountains, eyes fixed like autumn waters"—while the other is like a plain, natural, and chaste maiden.

Looking out, the water shines brilliantly, dotted with sails. The small islands in the lake are like pieces of jasper inlaid amidst the landscape, appearing strikingly moving. The lake water is too alluring, especially in such sweltering weather. As I approach the shore, the barrier of heat dissipates. The water ripples, flashing as if covered with a layer of gold. My hands, unable to resist, reach gently into the water. Ah! That refreshing sensation is beyond words. Ripples gently caress the white marble pool walls; the swaying autumn waters drift beneath the "Fish-Watching Bridge." The small green islands look like pearls set upon the lake, or at first glance, like green waves rolling amidst the clouds. Colorful sails appear so charming in the Thousand-Island Lake, surrounded by green trees. From an aerial view, the clear water, stirred by the wind, looks like lace appearing and disappearing. Listen to the pine waves, low and melodious, as evocative as a legend; the frail, pure white reeds swaying in the wind reveal a unique beauty, so delicate one cannot bear to touch them.

As the sun sets, the blood-red afterglow dyes half the sky, and the lake blushes like the face of a shy maiden. Nestled against the hillside is a reservoir surrounded by great mountains; the water is as green as a cat's eye, awe-inspiring. Looking down at Lu Lake from the Hongque Pavilion, the lake is dotted with exquisite, unique pavilions. With golden sunlight spilling over the emerald ripples, it truly seems like thousands of brilliant gemstones shimmering with dazzling light. Ah, the water of Taohua Pond is so green, like a flawless jade. The autumn water brings a hint of coolness. Look! A few scattered, withered lotus leaves float on Taohua Pond. Their edges have yellowed, yet crystalline water droplets hide mischievously upon them. Beneath the withered lotus, red goldfish swim; the maple trees on both sides cast mottled shadows—yellow, green, red, white, and black!

The spring pond is beautiful for its "stillness," so quiet that one feels it is not a pool of water, but a meadow—a lush, crystalline green lawn. The blue sky, green trees, and white clouds leave their shadows in its embrace, and the quiet emerald waves are permeated with a thread of contemplation. Because of this eternal tranquility, it possesses an extraordinary clarity: the fish swimming at the bottom and the sand and stones are all revealed without concealment—naturally, these are not the eyes of a hermit, but eyes burning with the fire of hope.

The spring pond is beautiful for its "motion." It is like a shifting green silk, so beautiful and pure. Under the sunlight, it leaps with shimmering light, like flying petals or scattered gold. Every small patch of light holds a tiny sprite, flickering, expanding, and trembling. When a breeze blows, ripples form, slowly pushing from one side to the other. Then another, and another... The once-clear boundaries on the water surface seem like a line of pale ink on rice paper, gradually diffusing under the veil of mist, eventually becoming somewhat blurred.

The desert is monotonous and lonely, yet it is so vast and open, allowing the wild horse of your thoughts to gallop across this expansive space. By evening, Sailimu Lake gradually turns a deep blue, sky and lake merging into one, making it impossible to tell if the sky stained the lake blue or the lake stained the sky. At noon, under the brilliant sun, Sailimu Lake is like a shimmering piece of silk; green grass and red flowers, white sheep and yellow cattle, grey camels and golden horses seem like colorful clouds drifting by the shore.

Thousand-Island Lake is not a natural lake, but an 860,000-mu artificial lake formed after the completion of the Xin'an River Hydroelectric Station, equivalent to the size of more than 100 West Lakes. Because the spring rain pond is no less impressive than the Nanlao Spring: the spring water flows and is hard to form into a piece of jade, but this pool water is quiet, soft, and beautiful, like an emerald. The lake water is so green that it seems as if someone has 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 glitters in the sunlight, the graceful willow branches like a maiden's washed hair. The water level has risen by nearly 100 meters; some peaks have sunk into the water, while others have become islands in the emerald expanse. 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 out to embrace the blue sky, finally melting together into the faint mist. When autumn is crisp and cool, looking out, the eyes are filled with shimmering water traces, gently rippling. Layer upon layer of waves push toward the shore, patting the stones. The water is permeated with a chill, as if clarified, with deep colors settling at the bottom. The swirling water vapor drifts with the autumn wind, rotating and soaring, leisurely and unrestrained.

West Lake is located west of the city, covering about 5.6 square kilometers. Because of its charming scenery and quiet environment, it has been a famous tourist destination since ancient times. People say: "Above, there is heaven; below, there are Suzhou and Hangzhou." Suzhou refers to the Suzhou gardens, and Hangzhou refers to this West Lake. West Lake consists of an inner lake and an outer lake. The two bodies of water are connected, separated only by the long Su Causeway. Though called a causeway, it is actually six closely linked stone bridges of various shapes. The outer lake is larger than the inner, and the lake is dotted with three shimmering pearls: Three Pools Mirroring the Moon, Lesser Yingzhou, and the Mid-Lake Pavilion. Three Pools Mirroring the Moon is considered the foremost among the sights of West Lake, mainly because of the three stone pagodas standing on the lake surface. The pagodas, over two meters high, have five holes on each side that allow light to pass through. On a moonlit night, one can witness the miraculous sight of "moonlight reflecting in the pool, the shadow divided into three." On the Mid-Lake Pavilion stands a stone tablet inscribed with the characters "Chong Er." It is said that Emperor Qianlong inscribed it, implying the four characters for "boundless wind and moon," inspired by his night tour of West Lake. Besides the three sights on the lake, the area along the lake features many other beauties, such as Orioles Singing in the Willows, Viewing Fish at Flower Harbor, Autumn Moon over the Calm Lake, and Lingering Snow on the Broken Bridge.

We get off the bus and cross a slope, catching a glimpse of the blue lake water through the gaps in the treetops. As we move forward, the lake surface expands, until it is fully presented before our eyes. The surrounding high mountains embrace the lake, with mountains and water leaning on each other in magnificent grandeur. Boats on the lake are like stars dotted in the center. Suddenly, a belt of water is stirred from south to north; looking closely, it is a speedboat racing across the surface. Flocks of birds frequently soar and cry above the lake, forming a magnificent, dynamic picture.

In midsummer, we often row small boats into the depths of the lake. The boat ripples through the emerald waves, making a rhythmic "pat-pat" sound, and concentric circles spread out in order as we move. At this time, standing at the bow, the beauty of the lake is fully captured: winding clear water, clear winding water, surrounding the green water weeds. Strands of water weeds drift like a fairy's hair, stretching and curling, lingering with the lake water and teasing the fish and shrimp. In the distance, patches of pink and green appear, and the scent of lotus drifts directly into your nostrils, tempting us to row faster into the embrace of the lotus. We park the boat where the lotus leaves are densest and the fragrance is strongest, then lie on the bow and in the cabin. The lotus leaves, each as large as an umbrella, hide our bodies in their thick green shade. Several bright lotus flowers and tender little lotus pods peek out, as if teasing us.

The pond is very small. The usually lively goldfish are now staying quietly there, perhaps asleep. In the middle of the pond is a piece of mountain rock, carved by nature, looking even more charming under the moonlight, like a painting. The moon reflects on the ink-green bottom of the pool, washed by the water, looking exceptionally clear and distant, like the enchanting eyes of the Mona Lisa, captivating the soul. A gust of wind sweeps by, drawing a light green trace on the calm water. The pool ripples slightly, kissing the rock and making a faint, metal-like clinking sound, appearing especially light and long in the quiet night...

Changdang Lake, as a delicate younger sister of Taihu Lake, lies quietly on the treasure land of Jintan. When I first came to Changdang Lake, I felt a hazy, indescribable sense of affection. In the distance, the sky is blue, without a wisp of cloud or a single bird, like a huge blue gauze scarf gently covering it. Nearby, the water is light green, so pure and lovely, with not a trace of debris in it. Even the small, playful fish seem unwilling to break this tranquil green, swimming to the bottom. The surface of the water is like a flawless gemstone, a pale green pasture of early spring. I find myself on a small boat, letting it drift, and before I know it, I am in the middle of the vast lake. Only then do I realize how beautiful the world is. Looking around, I see no other colors, only an alluring green everywhere. How can I describe this lovely green? Can the flowery words and beautiful sentences in the *Cihai* dictionary compare to this green before my eyes? I reach out my hands with abandon, cupping a handful of pure, emerald water and gently putting it to my lips, finding it more fragrant than plums and sweeter than honey... I cup another handful of pure green to my heart, immediately feeling an incomparable lightness and a spirit refreshed.

Xuanwu Lake's water is so clear and bright, like a huge, brilliant green gemstone. A breeze sweeps across the lake, stirring up layers of ripples. Under the setting sun, the lake glitters like fish scales and broken jade, refreshing the mind. The light waves, like chasing and playing children, rush toward the shore, row after row, then retreat with laughter. This cycle repeats forever without fatigue. Crystalline water droplets splash on my hands, giving a hint of coolness and refreshing the spirit. Standing on the shore, one can see to the bottom, sometimes even seeing small fish and shrimp swimming, making one feel that life exists in this emerald water, bringing vitality to the lake and adding a sense of mystery.

At dawn, under the pale blue sky light, the reservoir is strangely quiet. Thin water mist floats on the surface, like a maiden covered in a light veil. The small islands in the water seem to float in the clouds. Looking at the reservoir from afar, it resembles a silver-grey silk ribbon, winding away into the distance...

The lake is still, like a bright mirror, clearly reflecting the blue sky, white clouds, red flowers, and green trees; the lake is alive, with layers of scale-like waves rising with the wind, accompanying the leaping sunlight and my heart, chasing and playing; the lake is soft, with gentle breezes and ripples, like silk dancing in the wind; the lake is hard, like a flawless emerald shimmering 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, with endless rings on the "brocade," like flowers embroidered by a beautiful girl.

The lake is most lively when the thunderstorm arrives. Listen, a flash of light in the sky—that is the fireworks of the opening ceremony going up. "Boom," the salute sounds; the meeting is about to begin. When the heavy rain falls, the party begins immediately. Do you see the rain flowers competing to bloom on the lake? Those are the jade flowers on the heads of the dancing goldfish girls; do you want to know if the program is wonderful? The thunderous "applause" of the rain will tell you everything.

In the embrace of mountains over 2,000 meters above sea level, the sudden appearance of such a deep emerald lake is truly astonishing. Looking closely at the pool water, it reflects the surrounding ridges and pine trees, with distinct shades of light and dark; looking into the distance, the white snow crowns on the peaks are visible and then disappear; the afterglow of the setting sun spills onto the clear water. As the breeze passes, the light ripples, just like thousands of fish churning; on the hillside is an ancient spruce forest, lush and green; small squirrels jump between the branches, occasionally peering at us; the forest floor is covered in fallen leaves, rustling when stepped on, giving a soft feeling. Oh, all of this is simply a marvelous ink wash painting.

Qinghai Lake was anciently known as "West Lake," and in Tibetan it is called "Cuowenbo," meaning "blue lake." The lake is elliptical, slightly longer from east to west, with a circumference of over 300 kilometers, an area of 4,583 square kilometers, and an elevation of 3,195 meters. With the changes of seasons and weather, the scenery of Qinghai Lake varies. In spring and summer, the mountains are green and the water is beautiful, with birds singing; in the depths of winter, it is covered in white snow and the lake is frozen; on sunny days, the blue sky is like a mirror, and the water and sky are the same color; on cloudy days, the sea of clouds is vast, and the waves roar. Looking at Qinghai Lake from afar, it is like a huge sapphire shining with brilliant light; looking closely, it is like a boundless ocean. In the morning, Qinghai Lake is shrouded in white mist, merging with the sky, making it impossible to distinguish which is sky and which is water; in the evening, the rosy clouds cast onto the lake, reflecting the overlapping waves, like a painter unfolding a gorgeous color ink painting for you; at night, the moon spills its bright light onto the calm lake, and the surface ripples with light, the starry sky reflected in the lake—truly, the sky is in the lake, and the lake is in the sky. Bird Island, Haixi Mountain, Haixin Mountain, Sand Island, and Guzhi Mountain (Three Stones) are five small islands like five bright pearls inlaid in the lake, adding color to Qinghai Lake.

The variety of fish in Qinghai Lake is relatively simple, mainly producing naked carp (commonly known as Nie fish). The naked carp is scaleless, delicious, and rich in nutrition, famous far and wide. It takes about 11 to 12 years for a naked carp to grow from a fry to one jin, showing how precious it is. To reasonably utilize the naked carp resources, the government has taken measures to prohibit illegal fishing. Haixin Mountain in the lake covers an area of nearly 1,000 square meters. Legend has it that it is famous for producing "dragon colts," so it is also called Dragon Colt Island. The island has strange, rugged rocks and overgrown weeds. In midsummer, it is covered in red and green, with birds singing and flowers fragrant; in deep winter, the ice rocks are jagged, and the scenery is very beautiful. Bird Island is located near the Buha River mouth on the west side of Qinghai Lake, covering only 0.4 square kilometers. Because the air on the island is fresh, food is abundant, 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 rest and breed here every year. It is known as the "Kingdom of Birds." When you step into the Kingdom of Birds, birds fly up in alarm, and the sound carries for miles. Sometimes, endangered bird species 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, you cannot see the edge of the lake. The mint-like, refreshing cool wind blowing toward you makes one feel instantly refreshed and clear-headed. Listening to the tinkling sound of the lake water, it is like a musician plucking wonderful strings; it seems to see the lively, leaping silhouette of the lake water, leading one to feel a sense of joy. Look at this emerald lake water, green and full, not wild, not turbid, delicate and gentle. I cannot help but bend down to scoop up a handful of water, thinking that it must dye my hands green, but it is just colorless and clear, falling from between my fingers into the lake like ice hitting a jade plate, crisp and clear, and then immediately returning to its original color, crystalline, gentle, and murmuring as it flows into the distance.

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

The world-famous Five Great Lakes are like five lotus flowers on the same stem, the surface reflecting the blue sky, like five mirrors for a fairy to dress herself; they are also like five crystalline fire pearls, inlaid in the emerald plain and at the foot of the lush green mountains. Dotted fishing sails float on the surface, and bursts of cool breeze bring melodious fishing songs from the pond, the oars breaking the blue fairy mirror, stirring up charming light waves... Suddenly, a "pop" of a gunshot sounds, and the flood discharge time has arrived. I see the high sluice gate rise slowly, and suddenly a clear, smooth stream gently sticks its head out, as clear and bright as soft gauze, with quite a bit of a graceful maiden's posture. The gate opens higher and higher, and the water flow grows larger and larger. It does not flow as gently as before, but becomes angry: it rushes, roars, and violently charges toward the first flood-blocking dam. The dam attempts to block its path, but the torrent leaps up and crosses it. The waves are like the smiling faces of winners, lifted high. Rolling white waves, unstoppable. Some describe it as a flock of sheep suddenly emerging from the grass, others describe it as white clouds rushing 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 toward a deep pool. The thousands of splashes stirred up, raising water mist more than ten feet high, under the illumination of the sun, look like flying pearls and splashing jade, colorful and brilliant. It is full of infinite power, showing a magnificent spirit, daring to clear away the debris, mud, and dirty water blocking its path. The torrent leaps down the dam and becomes wider, but it still maintains the momentum of rushing forward. The flood in the dam rolls, the torrent in the stream rushes. That momentum of rushing thousands of miles is breathtaking and refreshing.

Climbing the lake dam, I see the water and sky as one, the light shimmering. Through the clear lake water, one can see the green water weeds at the bottom like a carpet. The water chestnut leaves floating on the surface and the graceful lotus leaves are just like flowers on that green carpet! With the girls' singing, a lotus-picking boat rows out from the reeds, plowing through the calm lake. The fish jump, I don't know if it was the sound of the small oars that startled them, or the girls' singing that attracted them. I sit down by the railing, stretching my bare feet into the lake. The cool and gentle water licks my feet, and an emotion of having merged into nature surges in my heart, making me feel that the water of Thousand-Island Lake is so affectionate, the wind so fresh, the sunshine so bright, and the trees so verdant. I truly want to stay here forever, with the mountains as company, the water as a dragon, and enjoy this lake and mountain scenery every day—that would truly be leisurely and carefree.

As the sun sets, the blood-red afterglow dyes half the sky, and the lake blushes like the face of a shy maiden. The lake surface, covered by green trees, clearly divides into blue and green colors. Blue reminds you of the azure sky; green reminds you of the grassland. The surroundings are strangely quiet, and that green goes from light to deep, from deep to light. A light grey mist veil shrouds Thousand-Island Lake, making it unfathomable, yet the clear lake water is so open and honest. I saw the charm of green here; it turns out to be so magnificent. Before you can react, it has surged into your eyes like a broken dam, making you unable not to be infected and captivated by its spirit and vitality!

Sailimu Lake is called "Sailimukule" in Kazakh, meaning "Lake of Wishes." It is located between the mountains connecting Ili Kazakh Autonomous Prefecture and Bortala Mongol Autonomous Prefecture, at an altitude of over 2,000 meters, and is a famous alpine lake in China. The lake area is 120 square kilometers, much larger than Yining City! The deepest part of the lake is over ninety meters, and there are undulating mountains at the bottom. The lake water is sweet and delicious, and because it contains two-thousandths of salt minerals, drinking a small amount can refresh the mind, clear heat, and promote bowel movements. Do you know? Sailimu Lake is constantly changing. According to the research and investigation of physical meteorologist Zhu Kezhen, seven hundred years ago, it was still a piece of ice peak. Today, the beautiful Sailimu Lake is surrounded by endless vast grasslands. However, based on the speed of the lake water increase over the past few years, perhaps in another seven hundred years, it will become a vast ocean again.

Warm sunlight falls gently. Brew a pot of fragrant tea, and amidst the wisps of freshness, gently let the book spread out. Stroke the words on it, letting the leaping rhymes guide me to the promised lands everywhere; an indescribable comfort drifts in my heart.

"Reading is like 'visiting' invisibly," Yang Jiang said so. Reading indeed allowed me to visit many people's homes. I shook hands with Yue Fei and shouted the bold words, "With hungry ambition, I eat the flesh of the barbarians; talking and laughing, I drink the blood of the Xiongnu." I gently patted the heartbroken Liu Yong and walked with him through the "willow shore, dawn wind, and waning moon." I had just witnessed the grape wine and luminous cups on the Western frontier, and then laughed and bought pear blossom wine under a blue flag. I chatted and shared my heart with friends from all over the world, raising glasses and laughing together. Gradually, I became drunk in the mountains of poetry and the rivers of prose, beginning to slowly merge with books, truly intoxicated and not knowing the way home.

Since I don't know the way home, I don't have to go back. There is a special flavor in exploring while reading. Sinbad led me to visit Solomon's temple, bypass the valley where giant pythons coil, and pass through the end of the world where giant whales appear; Verne put me in a submarine and sailed twenty thousand leagues to a mysterious island; in the gentle waves of Cambridge, I saw the melancholy Little Prince desperately asking questions. I walked under the crotches of countless giants, and countless little people walked under mine. Oh, what a wonderful journey. Reading brought magic and surprises to my side one by one, letting me accompany them.

Walking along, an old man named Knowledge joined our ranks. The light of wisdom shining on him passed through my eyes, as if lighting a lamp in my heart. I learned that magnificent towers can tilt, and invincible steel can sink; some people used their bodies to block sharp blades for a circle, and others 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 is not as fast as it; but reading and books are like a perfect black hole, always able to lead thinking to it, accumulating in it, preparing for a most magnificent explosion. The clouds and moon of eight thousand miles all walked into the depths of my soul through reading.

Suddenly looking up, the sunlight is still smiling and coming toward me. I gently stroke the little tadpoles on the book, those wonderful little sprites, recalling the experience of reading in the wisp of tea fragrance, letting enjoyment and I become one.

When free, brew a pot of tea, pick up a book in the wisps of light mist, savoring the tea fragrance, smelling the book fragrance, chewing repeatedly, tasting every word, every sentence... This is my greatest pleasure in my spare time. Some people say that reading is an art. Yes, reading is indeed so.

Reading is an art of enjoying life. Mr. Five Willows "liked to read, did not seek to understand, and whenever he had an understanding, he was happy and forgot to eat." When you are bored and frustrated, 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 good 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 polished, it will not become a vessel; if a person does not learn, they will not know the truth." Reading is a process of learning. 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 the beam and pricking the thigh," "reflecting the snow by the firefly window"—since ancient times, diligent reading and self-improvement have been everyone's lifelong pursuit. Reading is the most elegant quality, which can shape people's spirit and sublimate people's thoughts.

Reading is an art of enriching life. A life without books is like a hollow bamboo, empty and void. Books are the greatest wealth in life. Jews let children kiss books smeared with honey to make them remember: books are sweet, and to make life full of sweetness, you must read. Reading is the most rare savings account in life. Accumulate it bit by bit, and you will find that you are the richest person in the world.

Reading is an art of realizing life. Reading Du Fu's poems makes people realize the bitterness of life, reading Li Bai's poems makes people realize 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 that teaches us how to look at life. Reading is an indispensable lesson in life. Reading books and realizing life help 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 promotes the boat of life. Reading is an art of life; because of reading, life is more wonderful!

That was a charming afternoon. You sat by the window reading a heavy, old book. The afternoon black tea exuded a rich sweetness. Your old dog lay lazily at your feet. The sunlight tanned your outline golden, mixed with this lazy time, brewing into memory.

This is your own memory, like a dewdrop caught on your fingertips in the early morning. You smell its fragrance, but you cannot grasp it, and you cannot describe it. Look, reading is just like this. It's just a feeling.

Sometimes you read and read, as if you embraced the whole world. You are not just you; you can watch, like a world-weary wandering poet, watching everything happen before your eyes. The story begins, rises and falls, twists and turns, and finally ends. You collect them and write them into a song, whether light or sad, and sing it carefully. Reading and reading, you read life, read a taste, 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, seemingly cold and incomplete, but in fact, it has always been full; it is just a distant planet rotating quietly. Of course, sometimes you will indulge in it, inevitably manipulated by fate, occupied by seven emotions and six desires, because we need love and hate, and no one can be exempted from customs. You read attentively, so nervous that you almost forget to breathe. Isn't this the intensity of life, pulling you to run wildly? You are led by a mood, running forward blindly, the wind whistling in your ears. At this moment, reason is submerged, and you throw away the mask of life. 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 unreservedly, tears wetting the pages of the book, and you found that you were just reading someone else's story. But why do you see your own shadow there? You feel you live so vividly, so realistically? At a certain moment, you gave it all your emotions, without regret.

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

This is reading. You never thought about getting anything from it pragmatically, no premeditation, no pressure, you just vaguely tasted life there. You cry, you laugh, you hate, you love. You read it, and then you forget, turn around, and return to the busy reality. Reading, 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. Grabbing a moment of blooming, life is as brilliant as summer flowers.

Since humans separated from the ignorant animal world, first there was language, then writing, then articles, and finally books—sometimes thinking of this long process, I cannot help but feel a heart-stirring feeling, because without this process, there would be no "reading," and today, this is such an unbearable loss!

However, although everyone cannot live without reading, the realm of reading has different levels of opinions.

One realm is to seek fame for exams. This kind of reading is "low-grade" in my opinion because it can no longer be regarded as true knowledge, and of course, there is no real happiness to speak of. When fame and fortune are always shining in the eyes of readers, any knowledge has to be reduced to a "brick to knock on the door." Once the door of fame is knocked open, it is inevitable to be thrown away. Can this not be considered a profanity to knowledge? This kind of reading is evidenced by the imperial examination scholars of the past, and today there are people who take all kinds of exams—college entrance exams, postgraduate entrance exams, certificate exams, civil servant exams—as examples. Don't you see all kinds of candidates holding "true scriptures" in their hands, sitting or standing, frowning and studying hard outside the examination room before each exam? This kind of reading is better said to be a nightmare in the reader's life experience, with only pain and no happiness. However, there are few people in the world who can be exempted from this "painful reading," which must 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's great curiosity. How many giants of science, past and present, domestic and foreign, have studied hard and tirelessly to explore a certain problem; there are even some rare "polymaths" who dabble in multiple disciplines at the same time, exploring the mysteries of the world and life in reading. This is an automatic, autonomous, and conscious "reading." On the road of exhausting knowledge and truth, they are brave travelers and explorers, and we have no reason not to pay them deep respect. I would even say that those who can enter this realm have already obtained the blessing of life.

However, Zhuangzi said a sentence: "Life is limited, but knowledge is limitless. Using the limited to follow the unlimited is dangerous." This is a "partial truth." Therefore, in my eyes, although the second realm above counts as "high-grade," it cannot reach the "top-grade" realm. The reading that can be called "top-grade" is reading without seeking or desiring, a stroll of the soul, a wandering of the soul. This kind of reader not only has no desire to seek wealth from books, but also has no pursuit of digging for treasures of knowledge from books, and even less impulse to refine moral maxims from books to help the world and save humanity. He sees kindness and beauty in books; he is moved by the brilliance of books and cries for the happiness in books. He always needs to read, but he has no requirements for "reading," just because he is fulfilled and quiet because of reading. "Reading" gives him spiritual air and food, and he thus transcends material and realistic life.

The three realms of reading have similar appearances, but the spiritual core is very different. Finally, I have to admit that who is high and who is low, 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 rustling of pines is the rhythm of the pine forest; the chirping like a complaint is the private chirping of autumn insects; the clear sound like a grudge is the complaint of the cuckoo.

Listen to the soul; warmth is a tenderness, burning like a torch is a passion, and kind greetings are a heart of ice.

Listen to the language of books; there are the gentle words of Qu, Tao, Li, and Du, fresh and bright; there are the brilliant, dreamlike tenderness of Zhimo and Eileen; there are the flying personality and human insights of Han Han and Annie.