Chapter 128: The Secret of the Statue

As the poet Li Bai once wrote, "The flowing water of Jinci is like green jade." Watching it ripple and sway in the reflected light, it feels dreamlike. At this moment, Dongting Lake is calm and vast, as natural as a poetic scene. The pool remains as still as a mirror, clearly reflecting the flickering torches, the shifting flames, and the jade toad in the azure sky. The sun has already set, but its light reflects from beneath the clouds, casting a crimson glow onto the lake until it seems as if the water is burning; everything around has lost its original color, submerged in this red radiance.

Suddenly, a brightness catches my eye, and I hurry forward to find a clear, man-made lake—a great mirror in the countryside, reflecting the blue sky and white clouds. The water is crystalline. A gentle breeze stirs it, creating ripples that shimmer with golden light. With a soft "chirp," a swallow flies down, its pointed tail skimming the surface and stirring a ring of ripples. In the lake, fish surface—some blowing bubbles, others chasing and playing, some using lotus leaves as tiny umbrellas to play hide-and-seek, and others swimming leisurely behind their mothers.

The withered lotus stalks in the pool before the door suddenly sway violently, followed by red carp leaping energetically, breaking the deathly calm of the water. On the lake, the surface is smooth, and the boat seems to glide over a sheet of glass. The shimmering ripples look like fine threads on silk, smooth and verdant. Looking into the distance, the color deepens, gradually turning a dark, emerald green. Looking up at the sky, clouds drift leisurely; looking down into the heart of the lake, there is another sky, where the shadows of clouds wander. The peaks on both banks stand inverted in the water, a uniform green, accompanying travelers with tender affection. Just as it seems to reach the end, a turn reveals the same mountains and the same water. One longs for a change, yet after traveling a hundred and twenty miles, the scenery remains the same.

Compared to the turbulent Dongting Lake, Jingpo Lake is calm and serene. Compared to the vast, rounded expanse of Taihu Lake, Jingpo Lake is more like a river with untroubled waters. Daming Lake, by comparison, is but a pool of clear water. Compared to West Lake, one is like a beautiful young woman with "the low grace of spring mountains and the focused gaze of autumn waters," while the other is like a simple, natural, and chaste virgin.

Looking out, the water glistens brightly, dotted with sails. The small islands in the lake are like pieces of green jade inlaid in the landscape, appearing strikingly moving. The lake water is, after all, too tempting, especially in such sweltering weather. I approach the shore, and the film of heat before me vanishes. The water surges, flashing as if covered in a layer of gold. My hands, unable to resist, gently reach into the water. Oh! The refreshing sensation is beyond words. The ripples gently caress the white marble pool wall; the swaying autumn water flows back and forth beneath the "Knowing Fish Bridge." Those little green islands look like pearls inlaid on the surface of the lake, or, at a glance, like green waves rolling among the clouds. Colorful sails appear so charming in Thousand Island Lake, surrounded by green trees.

Bird's-eye view of the clear lake: the ripples stirred by the wind look like lace appearing and disappearing. Listen to the pine waves, low and melodious, evoking daydreams like a legend; and the weak, pure white reeds swaying in the wind reveal 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 blushes like the face of a shy girl.

Next to the ridge lies a reservoir surrounded by great mountains. The water is as green as a cat's eye, awe-inspiring. Overlooking Lu Lake from the Hongque Pavilion, one sees exquisite little pavilions on the lake surface. The water is emerald green with shimmering waves, and the golden sunlight scattered upon it glitters like thousands of brilliant jewels. Ah, the water of Peach Blossom Pool is so green, like an unblemished jadeite. The rippling autumn water brings a hint of coolness. Look! A few withered lotus leaves are scattered on Peach Blossom Pool; the edges have turned yellow, but crystal-clear water droplets hide mischievously upon them. Beneath the withered lotus, red goldfish swim leisurely. The maple trees on both sides cast mottled shadows—yellow, green, red, white, and black!

The spring pond is beautiful in its "stillness." It is so still that one feels it is not a pool of water, but a meadow—a verdant, crystal-clear green meadow. The blue sky, green trees, and white clouds leave their beautiful shadows in its embrace. In the quiet green waves, a trace of contemplation permeates. Because of this eternal tranquility, it possesses an extraordinary clarity: the fish and sand at the bottom are revealed without concealment—naturally, these are not the eyes of a recluse, but a pair of eyes burning with the fire of hope.

The spring pond is also beautiful in its "motion." It is like an ever-changing green silk, so beautiful and pure. Under the sunlight, it leaps with shimmering light, like flying petals or scattered gold. Every tiny spot of light holds a little spirit, flickering, expanding, and trembling. As a breeze blows, ripples form, slowly advancing from one side to the other. Then another, and another... The once-clear boundaries on the water surface become like a line of light ink on rice paper, gradually diffusing under the mist and light gauze, eventually becoming somewhat blurred.

The desert is monotonous and lonely, but it is also vast and open, allowing your wild thoughts to gallop through this expanse. By evening, Sailimu Lake gradually turns a deep blue. The sky and the lake merge, making it impossible to tell if the sky dyed the lake blue or the lake dyed the sky blue. At noon, under the brilliant sun, Sailimu Lake is like a shimmering piece of silk, with green grass, red flowers, white sheep, yellow cattle, gray camels, and golden horses, like colorful clouds floating by the shore.

Thousand Island Lake is not a natural lake; it was formed after the construction of the Xin'an River Hydropower Station, creating an 860,000-mu man-made lake upstream, equivalent to the area of over a hundred 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 jade, but this pool water is quiet, soft, and beautiful, like a piece of jadeite. 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, and the graceful willow branches are like a young girl's freshly washed hair. The water level has risen by nearly 100 meters, with some peaks submerged and others becoming islands in the emerald water. These islands are the mountains I saw standing in the water earlier. There are 1,078 such islands of varying sizes on the lake, hence the beautiful name "Thousand Island Lake."

The broad lake surface passes through the jade-colored Seventeen-Arch Bridge, stretching its arms far to embrace the blue sky, finally melting into the faint mist. In the crisp autumn, looking into the distance, one sees shimmering water marks everywhere, swaying slightly. Layer upon layer of waves push toward the shore, lapping against the stones. The water is chilled, as if clarified, with dark colors settling at the bottom. The swirling water mist carries the autumn wind, rotating and soaring leisurely, unrestrained.

West Lake is located in the west of Hangzhou, Zhejiang Province, covering 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: "Above is heaven, below 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 are connected but separated by the long Su Causeway. Named a causeway, it is actually six closely connected stone bridges of different shapes. The outer lake is larger than the inner, dotted with three shimmering pearls: Three Pools Mirroring the Moon, Little Wonderland, and the Mid-Lake Pavilion. Three Pools Mirroring the Moon is considered the best of West Lake's scenes, mainly because of the three stone towers standing in the water. The two-meter-high towers have openings on all five sides to let light through. On a bright moonlit night, one can see the marvelous scene of "the moonlight reflecting in the pool, with the image divided into three." On the Mid-Lake Pavilion stands a stone tablet inscribed with the two characters "Chong Er." It is said that the Qianlong Emperor wrote it, implying the phrase "boundless wind and moon," inspired by his night tour of West Lake. Besides these three, there are many other scenes around the lake, such as Orioles Singing in the Willows, Viewing Fish at Flower Pond, 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, caught a glimpse of the blue lake. The further we went, the larger the lake surface became, until it was fully revealed to our eyes. The high mountains on all four sides embrace the lake, with mountains and water supporting each other in a majestic display. The kayaks on the lake are like stars scattered in the center. Suddenly, a band of water rippled from south to north; looking closely, it was a speedboat racing across the surface. Flocks of birds chirped and soared over the lake, forming a magnificent, dynamic painting.

In midsummer, we often rowed small boats into the deep lake. The boat rippled through the green waves, making a rhythmic "pat-pat" sound, and rings of ripples spread out in order as we moved. Standing at the bow, the beauty of the lake was fully in view: winding clear water surrounded the lush green water grass. Strands of grass drifted like the hair of a fairy, stretching and curling, lingering with the lake water and teasing the fish and shrimp. In the distance, patches of pink and green appeared, and the scent of lotus flowers drifted into our nostrils, enticing us to row faster into the embrace of the lotus. We parked the boat where the lotus leaves were densest and the fragrance strongest, then lay on the bow and in the cabin. The lotus leaves were as large as umbrellas, hiding our bodies in their thick shade. A few bright lotus flowers and tender seed pods poked their heads out, as if teasing us.

The pond is small. The usually lively goldfish are now staying quietly there, perhaps asleep. In the middle of the pond is a piece of rock carved by nature, appearing even more charming under the moonlight, like a painting. The moon reflects on the dark green bottom of the pool, washed by the water, looking exceptionally clear and distant, like the enchanting eyes of the Mona Lisa, captivating the heart. A breeze brushes by, drawing a light green trace on the calm pool; the water ripples slightly, kissing the rock and making a soft, metallic clinking sound, appearing exceptionally tranquil 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 love. In the distance, the sky was blue, without a trace of cloud or a single bird, like a huge blue silk scarf gently draped over it. Nearby, the water was light green, so pure and lovely, without a trace of debris. Even the playful little fish seemed reluctant to break this quiet green, swimming to the bottom. The surface was like an unblemished jewel, a pale green early spring pasture. I placed myself 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 realize the world was so beautiful. Looking around, I saw no other colors, only an alluring green everywhere. How could I describe this lovely green? Could those flowery words and beautiful sentences in the dictionary compare to this green before my eyes? I obsessively reached out my hands, cupped a handful of pure green water, and gently put it to my lips, feeling it more fragrant than plum blossoms and sweeter than honey... I cupped another handful of pure green to my heart, immediately feeling an incomparable ease and a boost in spirit.

The water of Xuanwu Lake is so clear and bright, like a huge, brilliant green gemstone. A breeze brushes the surface, raising layers of ripples. Under the setting sun, the lake water shines like fish scales or shattered jade, making one feel relaxed and happy. The light waves, like children chasing and playing, rush toward the shore row after row, then retreat with laughter. This cycle repeats, never feeling tiresome. Crystal droplets splash on my hands, giving a hint of coolness and invigorating the spirit. Standing on the shore, one can see the bottom at a glance. Sometimes, one can see small fish and shrimp swimming, reminding one that life exists in this green water, bringing vitality and a touch of mystery to the lake.

At dawn, under the pale green sky, the reservoir is strangely quiet. A light mist drifts over the surface, like a young girl covered in a veil. The small islands in the water seem to float in the mist. Looking at the reservoir from afar, it resembles a silver-gray silk ribbon, winding 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 jumping sunlight and my heart in chase and play. The lake is soft, with breezes and ripples like a ribbon dancing in the wind. The lake is hard, like an unblemished jadeite flashing with beautiful luster.

The quiet lake is lovely, but the lake in the rain is even more moving. The silk-like spring rain falls, weaving and weaving, weaving a large piece of green "brocade" on the lake surface. On the "brocade," endless rings look like flowers embroidered by a beautiful girl. The lake is most lively when the thunderstorm comes. Listen, a flash of light in the sky—that is the opening fireworks. "Boom," the salute sounds, and the meeting is about to begin. When the heavy rain falls, the party begins immediately. Do you see the blossoms blooming on the lake? Those are the jade flowers on the heads of the goldfish girls dancing. Do you want to know if the program is exciting? 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 green lake is truly astonishing. Looking closely, the pool reflects the surrounding ridges and pine trees, with distinct shades of light and dark. Looking far, the white snow crowns on the peaks are visible and hidden. The afterglow of the setting sun sprinkles on the clear water. Where the breeze passes, the waves shimmer, 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. The fallen leaves in the forest are inches deep; stepping on them makes a rustling sound, giving a soft feeling. Oh, all of this is simply a marvelous ink wash painting.

Qinghai Lake, known as "West Lake" in ancient times, is called "Tso Ngonpo" in Tibetan, 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 altitude 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 competing to sing. In severe winter, the snow is vast, 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 crash with sound. 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 so that you cannot tell which is which. In the evening, the sunset glow casts onto the lake, reflecting the layered waves, like a painter unfolding a gorgeous color-ink painting for you. At night, the moon sprinkles its bright light on the calm lake, the surface shimmering, and the starry sky reflected in the water—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 inlaid in the lake like pearls, adding color to Qinghai Lake.

The fish species in Qinghai Lake are relatively simple, mainly producing naked carp (commonly known as Nie fish). Naked carp are scaleless, delicious, and nutritious, and are famous. It takes about 11 to 12 years for a naked carp to grow from a fry to one jin in weight, which shows how precious it is. To rationally utilize the resources of naked carp, 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 rocks and overgrown grass. In midsummer, it is covered in red and green, with birds singing and flowers fragrant. In winter, the icy rocks are steep, and the scenery is very beautiful. Bird Island is located near the Buha River mouth in the west 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, including bar-headed geese, brown-headed gulls, and ruddy shelducks, to inhabit and breed here every year, earning it the reputation of "Kingdom of Birds." When you step into the Kingdom of Birds, birds fly away in surprise, their sounds carrying for miles. The state has set up special institutions here to be responsible for the breeding and research of birds.

Standing by East Lake, looking out, one cannot see the edge of the lake. The mint-like, refreshing cool breeze blowing toward you makes one feel 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 and jumping figure of the lake water, inducing a feeling of joy. Looking at this green lake water, it is lush and green, not wild, not turbid, delicate and gentle. I cannot help but bend down to scoop up a handful of water, thinking that it will surely dye my hands green, but it is only colorless and clear, flowing from between my fingers into the lake, as crisp as ice hitting a jade plate, and then immediately returning to its original color, crystal-clear, soft, and beautifully flowing into the distance.

North of the town, across the road, are the towering mountains, and in the gorge is the Tongshanyuan Reservoir. The reservoir is surrounded by mountains, with lush trees and branches heavy with fruit: 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, steamships... 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 hydropower station, which transmits powerful currents to factories and villages every day.

The world-famous Wudalianchi is like five lotuses blooming on the same stem, with the pool reflecting the azure sky, like five mirrors for a fairy to dress up; or like five crystal 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 carry melodious fishing songs from the pool. The oars break the blue fairy mirror, creating charming waves... Suddenly, with a "pop" of a gunshot, the overflow time arrives. I see the high sluice gate slowly rising, and immediately a clear, smooth stream gently pokes its head out, as bright and clear as soft gauze, with the posture of a beautiful woman. The sluice gate opens higher and higher, and the water flow becomes 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 triumphant smile of a victor, held high. The white waves roll, unstoppable. Some describe it as a flock of sheep suddenly appearing in 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 light as white clouds, but like a soaring dragon leaping into a deep pool. The thousands of splashes stirred up, turning into water mist more than a zhang high, shine under the sunlight like flying pearls and splashing jade, colorful and brilliant. It is full of infinite power and shows a magnificent spirit, daring to sweep away the debris, mud, and dirty water blocking its way. The torrent leaps down the dam, becoming wider, but still maintains the momentum of rushing forward. The flood in the dam rolls, and the torrent in the stream rushes. That momentum of pouring down a thousand miles is heart-stirring and invigorating.

Climbing the lake embankment, I see the water and sky in one color, with shimmering light. Through the clear lake water, I can see the green water grass 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. Following the girls' singing, a lotus-picking boat rows out from the reeds, plowing the calm lake. The fish jump, not knowing if the sound of the small oars startled them or if the girls' singing attracted them. I sit down by the railing, stretching my bare feet into the lake water. The slightly cool and gentle water licks my feet, and an emotion of having merged with nature surges in my heart, making me feel that the water of Thousand Island Lake is so affectionate, the wind so fresh, the sunlight so bright, and the trees so green. I really want to stay here forever, with mountains as companions and water as a dragon, and enjoy this lake and mountain scenery every day—that would truly be carefree and leisurely.

As the sun sets, the blood-red afterglow dyes half the sky, and the lake blushes like the face of a shy girl. The lake surface, covered by green trees, is clearly divided into blue and green. Blue reminds you of the clear sky; green reminds you of the grassland. The surroundings are strangely quiet. The green goes from light to deep, from deep to light. Pale gray mist gauze shrouds Thousand Island Lake, making it unfathomable, yet the bright and clear lake water is so open and honest. I saw the charm of green here; it turns out to be so magnificent. Before you have time to react, it has surged into your eyes like a burst dam, making you infected and captivated by its spirit and vitality!

Sailimu Lake is called "Sailimukule" in Kazakh, meaning "Lake of Wishes." It is located among the mountains connecting the Ili Kazakh Autonomous Prefecture and the Bortala Mongol Autonomous Prefecture, at an altitude of over 2,000 meters, and is a famous alpine lake in China. The area of the lake is 120 square kilometers, much larger than Yining City! The deepest part of the lake is over 90 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 help with digestion. Do you know? Sailimu Lake is constantly changing. According to the research and investigation of the physical meteorologist Zhu Kezhen, seven hundred years ago, it was still a field of ice peaks. Today, the beautiful Sailimu Lake is surrounded by an endless grassland. However, according to the speed of the increase in lake water over the past few years, perhaps in another seven hundred years, this place will become a vast ocean again.

Warm sunlight falls gently. Brew a pot of fragrant tea, and in the wisps of freshness, gently let the pages of the book unfold, stroking the words on them, letting the jumping rhymes guide me to the promised lands everywhere. An indescribable comfort spreads in my heart.

2. "Reading is like 'visiting' invisibly," Yang Jiang said. Reading has indeed allowed me to go into the homes of many people. I shook hands with Yue Fei and shouted the bold words, "With high aspirations, I am hungry to eat the meat of the Hu captives; in laughter and talk, I am thirsty to drink the blood of the Xiongnu." I gently patted the heartbroken Liu Yong and walked with him through the "willow bank, dawn breeze, and waning moon." I saw grape wine in luminous cups in the Western Regions, and laughed at buying pear flower wine under the green flag. I talked about my heart with friends from all over the world and raised a glass to laugh together. Gradually, I became drunk in the mountains of poetry and the rivers of words, beginning to slowly merge with the book, intoxicated and forgetting the way home.

3. Since I don't know the way back, there is no need to go back. Adventuring in reading has a unique flavor. 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; Jules Verne put me in a submarine to sail twenty thousand leagues and brought me to a mysterious island; in the soft waves of Cambridge, I saw the melancholy Little Prince asking questions desperately. I walked under the crotches of countless giants, and countless little people walked under mine. Ah, what a wonderful journey. Reading brought magic and surprises to me one by one, letting me accompany them.

4. As I walked, 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 blocked sharp blades with their bodies for a circle, and some 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, not even light runs 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 eruption. Eight thousand miles of clouds and moon all walked into the depths of my soul through reading.

5. Looking up suddenly, the sunlight is still smiling and coming towards me. I gently touch the little tadpoles on the book, those wonderful little spirits, reminiscing about the reading experience in the curling tea fragrance, letting enjoyment merge with me.

6. In my spare time, I make a pot of tea, pick up a book in the wisps of light mist, savoring the fragrance of tea and the scent of the book, chewing repeatedly, tasting every word, every sentence... This is my greatest pleasure in my leisure time. Some people say that reading is an art. Yes, reading is indeed so.

7. Reading is an art of enjoying life. Mr. Five Willows "liked reading, did not seek to understand it in detail, and whenever he had an understanding, he would be happy and forget to eat." When you are dull and bored, reading can make you happy; when you are lost and melancholy, reading can calm your heart and let you see the path 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 are golden houses in books, and there are faces as beautiful as jade in books."

8. Reading is an art of self-improvement. "If jade is not carved, it will not become a vessel; if a person does not learn, they 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 from the beam and pricking the thigh," "glowing window and reflecting 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.

9. 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. The Jews let their children kiss books coated with honey, in order to let them remember: books are sweet, and to let sweetness fill life, one must read. Reading is the most rare savings book in life. Accumulate it bit by bit, and you will find that you are the richest person in the world.

10. Reading is an art of perceiving life. Reading Du Fu's poems makes one perceive the bitterness of life, reading Li Bai's poems makes one realize the corruption of officialdom, reading Lu Xun's articles makes one recognize the darkness of society, and reading Ba Jin's articles makes one feel the hope of the future. Every book is a friend that teaches us how to view life. Reading is an indispensable lesson in life. Reading books and perceiving life helps us walk every step of life well.

11. 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!

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

13. This is your own memory, like a dewdrop caught on 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.

14. Sometimes you read and read, as if you have embraced the whole world. You are not just you; you can watch, like a seasoned wandering poet, watching everything happen before your eyes. The story begins, rises and falls, turns, and finally ends. You collect them, write them into songs that are either light or sad, and pass them on carefully. Reading and reading, 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 nothing but a waning moon in the quiet night, seemingly cold and incomplete, but it has always been full; it is just a distant planet rotating quietly. Of course, sometimes you will indulge in it, inevitably being manipulated by fate and occupied by the seven emotions and six desires. This is because we need love, we need hate, and no one can be unconventional. You read attentively, 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 forward blindly, the wind whistling in your ears. This moment drowns out reason, and you cast aside the mask of life all at once. Like a child, you shout, collide, and have no scruples. You are even brave enough to blame the unfairness of fate and rebuke the darkness, obscurity, bitterness, and weakness of this society.

15. At that moment, you cried unreservedly, tears wetting the book pages, and only then did you realize that you were just reading someone else's story. But why did you see your own shadow there? You feel that you live so vividly, so realistically? At a certain moment, you gave all your moving to it without regret.

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

17. This is reading. You never thought of getting anything from it pragmatically; there is no premeditation, no pressure. You are just vaguely tasting life there. You cry, you laugh, you hate, you love. You have read it, and then you forget, turn around, and return to the busy reality. Reading, triggered by your emotion at that moment; because you are happy, you read happiness; because you are sad, you read sadness.

18. Reading is like this, and life is like this. Grasping a certain blooming moment, life is as brilliant as summer flowers.

19. Since human beings separated from the ignorant animal world, there was language first, then characters, then articles, and finally books—whenever I think of this long process, I can't help but feel a thrill, because without this process, there would be no "reading," and today, this is such an unbearable loss!

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

21. One realm is seeking fame for exams. This kind of reading is "low-grade" in my opinion, because it can no longer be considered true knowledge-seeking, 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 of fame is knocked open, it is inevitable to be discarded, and can this not be considered a blasphemy to knowledge? This kind of reading is evidenced by the imperial examination candidates of the past, and by the compatriots who have been participating in various exams—college entrance exams, postgraduate entrance exams, certificate exams, civil servant exams—one after another today. Don't you see all kinds of candidates holding "true scriptures" outside the examination room, sitting or standing, frowning and studying hard before every exam? This kind of reading is more like a nightmare in the reader's life experience; there is only pain, no happiness. However, few people in the world can avoid this "painful reading," which must be said to be a kind of alienation.

22. Another realm of reading is to exhaust knowledge and truth. This kind of reading can be listed as "top-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, ancient and modern, Chinese and foreign, have spent their lives researching a certain problem, tirelessly; there are also some rare "polymaths" 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 express our deep respect for them. I even want to say that those who can enter this realm have already obtained the blessing of life.

23. However, Zhuangzi once said: "Life has a limit, but knowledge has no limit. To follow the limitless with the limited is dangerous." This is a "partial truth." Therefore, in my eyes, although the second realm mentioned above can be counted as "top-grade," it cannot reach the "extreme-grade" realm. The reading that can be called "extreme-grade" is reading without seeking or desiring; it is a walk of the soul, a roaming of the spirit. Such readers not only have no desire to seek wealth from books, but also have no pursuit of digging for treasure chests of knowledge from books, and even less of an urge to refine moral maxims from books to save the world. He sees kindness and beauty in books; he is moved by the brilliance of the books and cries for the happiness in the books. He always needs to read, but has no demands on "reading." He is fulfilled and peaceful just because of reading. "Reading" gives him spiritual air and food, and he thus transcends material and realistic life.

24. The three realms of reading have similar appearances, but their spiritual cores are completely different. Finally, I have to admit that different people will have different judgments about which is high and which is low. "Low-grade," "top-grade," and "extreme-grade"—in the minds of different people, the order may be exactly the opposite...

25. Listen to nature; the sound of pine waves is the rhythm of the pine forest; the chirping like a complaint is the private whisper of autumn insects; the clear sound like a grievance is the complaint of the cuckoo...???

26. Listen to the heart; the gentle pulse is a piece of tenderness; the burning like a torch is a piece of enthusiasm; the cordial greeting is a piece of ice heart.

27. Listen to the language of books; there are the subtle and skillful words of Qu, Tao, Li, and Du, fresh and bright; there are the brilliant, dreamy, and tender literary talents of Zhimo and Eileen; there are the flying personalities and humanistic insights of Han Han and Anni.