Chapter 130

Li Bai once wrote, "The waters of Jinci are like green jade." Watching the ripples sway in the reflected light, it feels dreamlike. Dongting Lake is vast and calm at this moment, as natural as a poetic realm. The pool remains mirror-still, clearly reflecting the flickering torches, the shifting flames, and the jade toad in the azure sky. The sun has set, but its light reflects from beneath the clouds, casting a crimson glow upon the lake until it seems to be burning; everything around loses its original color, submerged in the red light. Suddenly, my eyes brighten, and I rush forward to find a clear artificial lake, like a giant mirror in the countryside, reflecting the blue sky and white clouds. The water is so clear that when a breeze blows, it ripples with golden light. With a soft "chirp," a swallow flies over, its pointed tail grazing the surface and stirring up concentric rings. In the lake, fish surface—some blowing bubbles, some chasing in play, others using lotus leaves as umbrellas for hide-and-seek, and some following their mothers in a leisurely swim. The withered lotus stalks in the pool before the door suddenly tremble violently, followed by red carp leaping with vitality, shattering the deathly stillness of the water.

The lake surface is undisturbed, and boats seem to glide on a sheet of glass. The shimmering ripples are like fine lines on silk, smooth and verdant. Looking into the distance, the color deepens, gradually turning to a dark emerald. Gazing at the sky, clouds drift leisurely; looking down at the heart of the lake, one sees another sky, with the shadows of clouds wandering. The peaks on both banks stand inverted in the water, a uniform green, accompanying travelers with tender sentiment. Just when it seems to reach the end, a turn reveals the same mountains and the same water. One longs for a change, but even after traveling a hundred and twenty miles, the scenery remains the same. Compared to the surging waves of Dongting Lake, Jingpo Lake is calm and serene; compared to the vast, rounded expanse of Taihu Lake, Jingpo Lake is more like a still, broad river. Daming Lake, by comparison, is merely a pool of clear water. Compared to West Lake, one is like a beautiful young woman, "with the low elegance 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, dotted with sails, and the small islands in the lake are like pieces of green jade inlaid in the landscape, appearing incredibly captivating. The lake water is truly alluring, especially in such sweltering weather. I approach the shore, and the membrane of heat before me vanishes. The water oscillates, flashing as if covered with a layer of gold. My hand, unable to resist, gently reaches into the water. Ah! That refreshing, soul-stirring sensation is beyond words. Ripples gently caress the white marble pool wall; the swaying autumn water flows back and forth beneath the "Know-the-Fish Bridge." Those little green islands are like pearls set upon the lake, or at first glance, like green waves rolling among the clouds. Colorful sails dot the scenery, appearing so enchanting in the Thousand Island Lake, surrounded by green trees. Bird's-eye view of the clear lake water: the ripples stirred by the wind look like lace appearing and disappearing. Listen to the sound of the pines; it is as low and melodic as the legends that inspire one's imagination. Then there are the weak, pure white reeds swaying in the wind, showing their unique beauty, 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. Tucked against the ridge 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 surface features elegant, unique small pavilions. The water is sparkling, and the golden sunlight scattered upon it looks like thousands of brilliant gems flashing with dazzling light. Ah, the water of Peach Blossom Pool is so green, like a flawless emerald. The rippling autumn water brings a touch of coolness. Look! A few withered lotus leaves are scattered on the Peach Blossom Pool; their edges have turned yellow, but crystal-clear water droplets hide mischievously upon them. Beneath the withered lotus, red goldfish roam, 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 "stillness," so quiet that one feels it is not a pool of water, but a meadow—a lush, crystalline green meadow. The blue sky, green trees, and white clouds all leave their silhouettes in its embrace, the still emerald waves infused with a trace of contemplation. Because of this eternal tranquility, it is extraordinarily clear: the swimming 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's beauty also lies in the word "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 fragments of gold, with a little sprite flickering, stretching, and trembling in every spot of light. When a breeze blows, water patterns arise, 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 pale ink on rice paper, gradually diffusing under the mist and light gauze of the void, eventually becoming somewhat blurred.

The desert is monotonous and lonely, but it is also so vast and open, allowing you to ride the wild horse of your thoughts through this expansive space. In the evening, Sailimu Lake gradually turns deep blue, and 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, grey camels, and golden horses drifting by the lake like colorful clouds.

Thousand Island Lake is not a natural lake; after the Xin'anjiang Hydropower Station was built, an artificial lake of 860,000 mu was formed upstream, equivalent to the area of over a hundred West Lakes. The spring rain pool is no less 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 sparkles 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 mountain peaks submerged and others becoming islands in the emerald water. These islands are the mountains I saw standing in the water; there are 1,078 such islands on the lake surface, 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 merging into the faint clouds and mist. When the autumn air is crisp, looking into the distance, the eyes are filled with glistening water marks, swaying slightly. Layer upon layer of waves push toward the shore, lapping against the stones. A chill permeates the water, as if it had been clarified; the deep colors settle at the lake bottom, and the swirling water mist dances with the autumn wind, leisurely and unrestrained, soaring.

West Lake is located in the west of Hangzhou, Zhejiang Province, covering an area of about 5.6 square kilometers. Because of its charming scenery and tranquil environment, it has been a famous tourist destination since ancient times. People say: "There is heaven above, and 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, separated only by the long Su Causeway. Though called a causeway, it is actually six closely connected, distinct stone bridges. The outer lake is larger than the inner lake and is 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 attractions, mainly because of the three stone towers standing in the lake. The two-meter-high stone towers have holes on all five sides to let light through; on a moonlit night, one can see the marvelous sight of "the moonlight mirroring the pool, the shadow splitting into three." The Mid-Lake Pavilion has a stone tablet inscribed with the characters "Chong Er." It is said that Emperor Qianlong inscribed it, implying the four characters "boundless wind and moon," expressing his feelings during a night cruise on the West Lake. In addition to the three scenes on the lake, there are many other beautiful spots along the shore, such as Orioles Singing in the Willows, Viewing Fish at Flower Pond, Autumn Moon over the Calm Lake, and Broken Bridge Overlooked by Melting Snow.

We got off the bus, crossed a slope, and through the gaps in the treetops, we glimpsed the blue lake water. The further we walked, the larger the lake surface became, until it gradually revealed itself to us. The high mountains on all four sides embrace the lake, water and mountains supporting each other, creating a magnificent atmosphere. The rowing boats on the lake are like stars dotted 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 above the lake from time to time, 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 order as we moved. At this time, several of us stood at the bow, taking in the beauty of the lake: clear water winding, winding clear water, surrounding the emerald green water plants. Strands of water plants floated 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 appeared, and waves of lotus fragrance drifted into our nostrils, luring us to row faster into the embrace of the lotus flowers. We parked the boat where the lotus leaves were densest and the fragrance strongest, and lay on the bow and in the cabin. The lotus leaves were each as large as an umbrella, hiding our bodies in their thick green shade. A few bright lotus flowers and tender little lotus pods poked their heads 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 interesting and picturesque under the moonlight. The moon is reflected on the dark green bottom of the pond, and after being washed by the water, it looks exceptionally clear and high, like the charming eyes of the Mona Lisa, captivating one's heart. A breeze brushed past, creating a pale green ripple on the calm pond water. The water rippled slightly, kissing the mountain rock and making a soft, metallic clinking sound, appearing exceptionally quiet in the tranquil night...

Changdang Lake, as a delicate sister of Taihu Lake, lies quietly on the treasure land of Jintan. When I first arrived at Changdang Lake, I felt a hazy, indescribable love for it. In the distance, the sky was blue, without a trace of clouds or a single flying bird, like a huge blue silk scarf gently draped over it. Nearby, the water was pale green, so pure and lovely, without a trace of debris. Even the playful little fish seemed reluctant to break this quiet green and swam to the bottom. The water surface was like a flawless gem, a pale green pasture of early spring. I was on a small boat, letting it drift, and unknowingly found myself in the middle of the vast lake. Only then did I feel that the world was so beautiful. Looking around, I could not see any distracting colors, only the alluring green everywhere. How could I describe this lovely green? Could those gorgeous words and beautiful sentences in the "Cihai" dictionary compare to this green before my eyes? I forgetfully stretched out my hands, scooped up a handful of pure green water, and gently put it to my lips, feeling it was more fragrant than plum blossoms and sweeter than honey... I scooped another handful of innocent green into my arms, suddenly feeling an incomparable lightness in my heart and my spirit revitalized.

The water of Xuanwu Lake is so clear and bright, like a huge, brilliant green gem. A breeze brushed across the lake, raising layers of ripples, and under the sunset, the lake water shimmered like fish scales, like broken jade, making one feel relaxed and happy. The slightly rising waves, like chasing and playing children, rushed toward the shore row after row, then laughed and retreated. This repeated cycle never felt tiresome. Crystal water droplets splashed on my hands, giving a touch of coolness and refreshing the spirit. Standing on the shore, one can see to the bottom of the water; sometimes one can see 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 green sky, the reservoir is strangely quiet. Faint water mist floats on the surface, like a young girl covered in light gauze. The small islands in the water seem to be floating in the clouds and fog. Looking at the reservoir from afar, it is like a silver-grey ribbon winding 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 scale-like waves rising with the wind, accompanied by jumping sunlight and my heart, chasing and playing; the lake is soft, with breezes blowing and ripples forming, like a silk cloth fluttering 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 falls, 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. When a thunderstorm arrives, the lake is at its liveliest. Listen, a flash of light in the sky—that is the fireworks of the opening ceremony going up. "Boom," the salute sounds, and the meeting is about to begin. Wait until the heavy rain falls, and the celebration begins immediately. Do you see the blooming raindrops 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 "applause" like thunder 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 breathtaking. Looking closely, the pool 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 faintly visible; the sunset glow spills onto the clear water surface. Where the breeze passes, the light ripples, just like thousands of fish churning; on the hillside is an ancient spruce forest, lush and green; little squirrels jump between the branches, occasionally peering at us; the fallen leaves in the forest are inches deep, and stepping on them makes a rustling sound, giving a soft feeling. Oh, all of this is simply an exquisite ink painting.

Qinghai Lake was called "West Lake" in ancient times and "Tso Ngonpo" in Tibetan, meaning "blue lake." The lake is oval-shaped, 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. 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 midwinter, it is snow-covered, and the lake is frozen; on sunny days, the blue sky is like a mirror, and the water and sky are one 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 flashing with brilliant light; looking closely, it is like an endless ocean. In the morning, Qinghai Lake is shrouded in white fog, and it merges with the sky, making it impossible to tell where the sky ends and the water begins; in the evening, the rosy clouds cast upon the lake, reflecting the overlapping ripples, like a painter unfolding a gorgeous colorful ink painting for you; at night, the moon spills its bright light onto the calm lake surface, the lake ripples, and the stars in the sky are 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 inlaid in the lake like five shining 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 far and wide. 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 the naked carp is. To rationally utilize the naked carp resources, the government has taken measures to prohibit indiscriminate fishing.

Haixin Mountain in the lake has 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 craggy rocks and overgrown weeds. In midsummer, it is covered in red and green, with birds singing and flowers fragrant; in midwinter, the ice rocks are towering, and the scenery is very beautiful. Bird Island is located near the Buha River mouth 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, 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 inhabit and breed here every year, earning it the reputation of "Kingdom of Birds." When you step into the Kingdom of Birds, the startled birds fly in flocks, and their sounds can be heard for miles. Sometimes, birds that are on the verge of extinction fly to the island. For the bird resources on the island, the state has set up a special agency here to be responsible for the breeding and research of birds.

Standing by the East Lake and looking out, one cannot see the edge of the lake. The minty, 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 that one can see the lively and jumping figure of the lake water, which makes one feel a sudden sense of joy. Look at this emerald green lake water, so green, not wild, not turbid, delicate and gentle. I couldn't help but bend down and scoop up a handful of water, thinking it would definitely dye my hands green, but it was just colorless emptiness, trickling from between my fingers into the lake, as crisp as ice hitting a jade plate, and immediately it returned to its original color, crystal clear, soft, and flowing to the distance.

North of the town, crossing the highway, 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 red persimmons... Looking at it, it is like a huge jade plate. There are many boats on the lake: small wooden boats, motor sailboats, steamships... The dam is as high as a twenty-story building, like a giant gate blocking the rushing water. At the foot of East Mountain by 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 stalk, the pool surface reflecting the blue sky, like five mirrors for a fairy to dress up; or like five crystal fire pearls inlaid in the emerald plains and at the foot of the lush green mountains. Dotted fish sails drift on the surface of the lakes, and gusts of cool breeze send the melodic and lingering fishing songs from the surface. The oars break the blue fairy mirror, creating charming light waves... Suddenly, with a "pop" of a gunshot, the spillway time arrived. I saw the high sluice gate slowly rising, and immediately a clear, smooth stream gently poked its head out, as bright and clear as soft gauze, with the posture of a beautiful woman. The sluice 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 surged and roared, violently rushing toward the first flood-control dam. The flood-control dam attempted to block its path, but the torrent leaped up and crossed the dam. The waves were like the smiling faces of winners, held high. The white waves rolled, unstoppable. Some people described it as a flock of sheep suddenly emerging from 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 jumping into a deep pool. The thousands of splashed waves, rising more than ten feet high in water mist, under the irradiation of the sun, looked like flying pearls and splashing jade, colorful. It was full of infinite power, showing a magnificent spirit, daring to clear away the waste, stones, mud, and dirty water blocking its advance. The torrent jumped off the dam and became wide, but still maintained the momentum of surging forward. The flood water in the dam rolled, and the torrent in the stream surged. That momentum of rushing thousands of miles is thrilling and makes one's spirit excited.

Climbing onto the lake embankment, I saw the water and sky as one color, the light sparkling. Through the clear lake water, one could see the water plants at the bottom, green like a carpet. The water caltrops floating on the water surface and the graceful lotus leaves looked like flowers on that green carpet. Following the girls' singing, a lotus-picking boat slid out from the reeds, plowing the calm lake surface. The fish jumped and bounced, not knowing whether the sound of the small oars startled them or the girls' singing attracted them. I sat down by the railing, stretched my bare feet into the lake water. The slightly cool and gentle water licked my feet, and a feeling of having merged with nature surged in my heart, making me feel that the water of Thousand Island Lake was so affectionate, the wind so fresh, the sunlight so bright, and the trees so green. I really wanted to stay here forever, with mountains as companions and water as a dragon, enjoying this lake and mountain scenery every day—that would be truly leisurely and carefree.

As the sun set, the blood-red afterglow dyed half the sky, and the lake water blushed slightly like the face of a shy girl. The lake surface covered by green trees was clearly divided into blue and green. Blue makes you think of the blue sky; green reminds you of the grassland. The surroundings were strangely quiet, and the green changed from light to deep, from deep to light, and the light grey mist gauze shrouded Thousand Island Lake, making it unfathomable, yet the clear lake water was so open. I saw the charm of green here; it turned out to be so magnificent. Before you could react, it had already rushed into your eyes like a burst dam, making you unable to help but 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 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 clear the heart, refresh the spirit, remove fire, and move the bowels. Do you know? Sailimu Lake is constantly changing. According to the research and investigation of physical meteorologist Zhu Kezhen, 700 years ago, it was still a piece of ice peak. Today, the beautiful Sailimu Lake is surrounded by endless vast grasslands. However, according to the speed of the lake water increase in recent years, perhaps in another 700 years, it will turn into a vast ocean again.

The warm sunshine spills down gently; brewing a pot of fragrant tea, I let the pages of the book unfold gently in the wisps of freshness, caressing the words on it, letting the beating rhymes guide me to the promised lands everywhere, and an indescribable comfort drifts in my heart.

"Reading is like 'visiting' in disguise," Yang Jiang said. Reading indeed brought me into the homes of many people. I shook hands with Yue Fei and shouted the heroic words together: "With lofty aspirations, I dine on the flesh of the barbarians; in light conversation, I drink the blood of the Xiongnu." I gently patted the heartbroken Liu Yong and walked with him through "the willow-lined shore, the morning breeze and the waning moon." I witnessed the grape wine and luminous cups at the frontier of 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, and began to slowly merge with books, truly intoxicated and forgetting the way home.

Since I don't know the way home, 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 the giant python coils, and pass through the end of the world where the giant whale appears; Verne put me in a submarine to travel twenty thousand leagues and brought me to the mysterious island; in the gentle waves of Cambridge, I saw the melancholy little prince desperately asking questions. 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 me one by one, letting me accompany them.

Walking along, an old man named Knowledge also 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 giant towers would tilt, and invincible steel would sink; some people used their bodies to block sharp blades 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 cannot run faster than 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. The eight thousand miles of clouds and moon all entered the depths of my soul through reading.

Looking up suddenly, the sunlight is still smiling and coming towards me. I gently touch the little tadpoles on the book, those wonderful little elves, savoring the experience of reading in the swirling tea fragrance, letting enjoyment merge with me.

In my spare time, I make a pot of tea, pick up a book in the wisps of light mist, taste the fragrance of tea, smell the fragrance of books, chew repeatedly, and savor every word and every sentence—this is my greatest pleasure in my spare time. Some people say that reading is an art. Yes, reading is really like that.

Reading is an art of enjoying life. Mr. Five Willows "liked to read, did not seek to understand it thoroughly, and every time he understood, 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 make you enjoy life more. Reading is the most beautiful enjoyment. "There is a golden house in books, and there is a jade-like beauty in books."

Reading is an art of self-improvement. "If jade is not carved, it will not become a utensil; if a person does not learn, he 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. There will be different gains from reading every book. "Hanging beams and stabbing thighs," "reflecting snow by the window"—since ancient times, diligent reading and self-improvement have been everyone'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 their children kiss books coated with honey, to let them remember: books are sweet, and to fill life with sweetness, one must read. Reading is the most rare passbook in life. If you accumulate it bit by bit, 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 hardships of life, reading Li Bai's poems makes people understand the corruption of the 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. Read books, realize life, and help us walk every step of life well.

Books are lamps, reading illuminates the road ahead; books are bridges, reading connects the shores of each other; books are sails, reading pushes the ship of life. Reading is an art of life, 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 silhouette into golden yellow, mixed with this lazy time, brewed into memory.

This is your own memory, like a dewdrop on your fingertip in the early morning, you smell its fragrance, but you can't grasp it, can't describe it. Look, reading is like this. It's just a feeling.

Sometimes as you read, you feel like you have embraced the whole world. You are not just you, you can observe, like a well-traveled bard, watching everything happen before your eyes. The story begins, rises, turns, and finally ends. You collect them and write them into songs that are either light or sad, and pass them on carefully. Reading and reading, you read about 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 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, occupied by seven emotions and six desires, this is because we need love, we need hate, no one can be exempt from customs. 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 blindly forward, the wind whistling in your ears, this moment drowns out reason, and you cast aside the mask of life. Like a child, you shout, collide, and have no scruples. You are even brave enough to blame the unfairness of fate, to scold the darkness, obscurity, bitterness, and weakness of this society.

At that moment, you cried forgetfully, tears wet the pages of the book, and you found that you were just reading someone else's story. But why did you see your own figure there? You felt that you lived so vividly, so truly? At a certain moment, you gave all your emotions to it, without regret.

Long after, you pick up that book again, recalling the feeling at that time, and you shake your head in confusion. You may have forgotten why you were so moved.

This is reading. You never intended to gain anything from it. There was 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 go back to the busy reality. Reading, catalyzed by your emotions at that moment, because you are happy, you read joy; because you are sad, you read sorrow.

Reading is like this, life is like this. Grasping 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—every time I think of this long process, I can't help but feel a kind of thrilling feeling in my heart, because without this process, there would be no "reading," and today, this is such an unbearable loss!

However, although everyone cannot do without reading, the realm of reading has different levels of opinion.

One realm is seeking fame for exams. In my opinion, this kind of reading is "low grade" because it can no longer be called true knowledge seeking, and of course, there is no real happiness to speak of. When there is always fame and wealth shining in the eyes of the reader, any knowledge is destined to become a "stepping stone." Once it knocks open the door of fame, it is inevitably destined to be thrown away casually. Can this not be considered a blasphemy to knowledge? This kind of reading is evidenced by the imperial examination students in the past, and by the people who have succeeded in taking various exams—college entrance exams, postgraduate entrance exams, certificate exams, civil servant exams—today. Do you not see the various examinees who are holding "true scriptures," sitting or standing, frowning and studying hard outside the exam room before every exam? This kind of reading is better described as a nightmare in the reader's life experience, with only pain and no happiness. However, there are few people in the world who can avoid 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 classified as "high grade" because it has broken free from one's own fame and wealth and stems from human's great curiosity. How many giants of science, past and present, domestic and foreign, have spent their lives studying a problem tirelessly; there are even 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.

However, Zhuangzi once said: "Life is limited, while knowledge is unlimited. Using the limited to follow the unlimited 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 realm of "superb grade." The reading that can be called "superb grade" is unseeking and desireless reading, a walk of the mind, a roaming of the soul. 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 help the world and save the world. He sees kindness and beauty in books; he is moved by the brilliance in books and cries for the happiness in books. He always needs to read, but has no demands on "reading," only because he is full and quiet because of reading. What "reading" gives him is spiritual air and food, and he thus transcends material and realistic life.

The three realms of reading have similar appearances, but their spiritual cores are vastly different. In the end, I have to admit that different people will have different judgments about which is higher and which is lower. "Low grade," "high grade," and "superb grade"—in the minds of different people, the order may be exactly the opposite...

Listen to nature; the sound of the pine waves is the rhythm of the pine forest; the chirping like a complaint is the private chirping of autumn insects, and the appearance like a resentment is the complaint of the cuckoo... ???

Listen to the heart; tender affection... is a piece of tenderness, burning like a torch, is a piece of enthusiasm, kind greetings, is a piece of ice heart.

Listen to the words of books; there is the tactful vocabulary of Qu, Tao, Li, and Du, fresh and bright; there is the brilliant literary talent of Zhimo and Eileen, tender as a dream; there is the personality of Han Han and Annie, realizing the human nature... ?..