Chapter 1

One, Moved by the Song of a Bird

A place without people is a desert; when the spring wind blows and the spring rain falls, that desert becomes an oasis. Friend, your clicks, your reading, are the spring wind, the spring rain. When the spring wind and spring rain visit the desert, you will surely see lush branches and leaves, fragrant flowers filling the air—a splendid realm, and I will give you a surprise……

First Piece, Moved by the Song of a Bird

Liu Guozong

Moved by such a bird, you sing only once in your lifetime. For this one song, you have prepared much, accumulated much, sought much. Yet, precisely because of this one song, you have left the world a beautiful and profound impression. For your song is more moving, more pleasing to the ear than any creature's song in the world.

You never leave the nest, but once you depart, you never look back. It carries the solemn and resolute spirit of "The wind rustles, the Yi waters cold; the brave warrior goes and never returns." For you understand, to look back is disgrace; to look back is to sink silently into loneliness and pain.

You must fly, must experience wind and rain and sunshine, to realize the value and meaning of life; you must seek, seek the fulcrum of life, seek the tree upon which you can stake your life—the thorn tree.

Perhaps you have long known that in an environment of flowers and fragrance, you can never achieve yourself. Life must be splendid, vibrant, free, soaring, singing; what meaning and value does that lonely life, that "people die for wealth, birds die for food" life, have?

Where do you come from? Where will you fly to? You have passed through wind and rain, through sunshine, through desert, flying toward the thorn thickets on the high mountains. For in the darkness of life and death, you have long known that the environment of flowers and fragrance has no affinity with you; what belongs to you is only this lonely, thorn-choked great mountain, and only this thorns everywhere can stimulate your life's potential, letting you sing the most moving notes of your life to the world.

Once you find the mountain that belongs to you, the thicket of thorns on that mountain that belongs to you, you nail your small body onto the longest, sharpest thorn, and thus you begin to sing amidst the dense thorns. Your

blood-tinged song is winding and moving.

Each of your songs is the most beautiful note in heaven and earth. You have passed through the agony of near death, you have transformed your tiny, humble life into a final song, a song sung at the cost of life.

Your song fills heaven and earth, surpassing the skylark, silencing the nightjar; more beautiful than red peach blossoms, white pear blossoms, yellow rapeseed flowers, blue bean flowers, and all famous flowers in the world.

The whole world is moved by your song, the whole world holds its breath to listen to your wonderful song. Look, a humble, weak life actually possesses such great power; even God in Tianguo applauds your song.

Only by enduring extreme pain and blows, transcending the limits of life, and paying with life, can our weak and humble life reach the realm of perfection. This may be the revelation the thorn bird leaves for us.

This is the prologue from the book *The Thorn Birds* by Austrian writer Colleen McCullough, which introduces the topic I have drawn out.

Yes, a weak and humble life living in desolate mountains and ridges, using its own song to make the world take notice once, be moved once, be praised once—this weak and humble life may be considered not to have lived in vain, no matter how great the suffering, how great the toil; even if one uses one's life as payment, it is worth it!

Second Piece, For the Beautiful Girl Under the Rose Bush

Liu Guozong

In chapter thirty of *Dream of the Red Chamber*, there is a passage written about forgetting the wind, sun, and rain for the sake of the girl under the rose bush.

The gist of the plot is: this is precisely when the rose leaves are lush; only see the red sun high in the sky, green shade covering the ground, cicadas filling the ears, silence without human speech. Baoyu just arrived under the rose bush, only hearing someone sobbing in the green shade. Baoyu felt doubtful, so he stopped, listened closely, and indeed saw someone on the other side of the wall; looking closely, a girl was squatting under the rose bush.

Only see that girl, set off by the rose blossoms, appearing extraordinarily beautiful. Baoyu carefully examined the girl, only to see her brows furrowed like spring mountains, her eyes like autumn waters, her face slim, her waist slender, her bearing graceful and elegant, greatly resembling Daiyu in appearance and Baochai in manner.

Ah, I have never before seen such a beautiful girl! Baoyu was stunned by the beautiful girl under the rose bush before his eyes. This beautiful girl made him forget everything outside himself. Baoyu's two eyes only gazed at this beautiful girl, his two eyeballs only followed her movements. At this moment, the clear sky suddenly changed; just before, the red sun high in the sky, in the blink of an eye the heavens filled with dark clouds, and from the cracks in the dark clouds a sudden downpour poured down, drenching Baoyu from head to toe, while Baoyu remained completely unaware.

Look, how infatuated Baoyu is, how focused Baoyu is, for the sake of the beautiful girl under the rose bush, he actually forgot the wind and rain outside himself.

Yes, for the sake of the beauty in one's heart, what are wind and rain? Wind and rain can only wet our outward appearance, but they cannot wet our heart. As long as our spirit is focused on one thing, as long as we are like Baoyu: eyes fixed on "that beauty under the rose bush," heart thinking of "that loveliness under the rose bush," what is there to fear about wind and rain!

Song? Say, whoever wants to achieve great things must concentrate their attention, displaying masterful skill within limits.

Friend, each of us has in our heart a pursuit of beauty; in the pursuit, we will inevitably have sunshine and clear skies turning in an instant to dark clouds filling the heavens, torrential rain, but as long as you keep your two eyes fixed on "that beautiful girl under the rose bush," you will surely see the rainbow after the rain.

Third Piece, Creating Another Kind of Beautiful Woman

Liu Guozong

God favored her greatly, bestowing upon her a supremely intelligent mind, also granting her a peerlessly beautiful appearance.

On her pure and dignified face, there are eyes flashing with the radiance of wisdom. Whether in the university campus or in the bustling crowd, wherever she goes, she brings a sigh of admiration: "Oh, what a beautiful young lady!"

No wonder Maupassant said: "Women have no social class, no ethnic difference; their appearance, bearing, and allure are the very signs of their identity and lineage." Maupassant's meaning is very clear: as a woman, as long as she is beautiful, has appearance, bearing, and allure, and is young, then she has everything.

In this world, women who live off their youth are not lacking; thus, youth and beauty have become the capital of women's happiness, the brand for external communication, even regarded as the highest honor in life. However, the woman I speak of did not treat her youth, beauty, appearance, bearing, and allure as anything; yet she has another realm and pursuit in life.

She is a woman with great aspirations and ambitions in life. She never took the beautiful appearance God gave her as bargaining chips with others, as a brand for life; she regarded those who chased stars around her as insects and weeds, as dust and dirt, she wanted to fix the beauty God gave her as eternal, letting the flower of beautiful youth bloom forever undefeated.

Therefore, she took the other precious thing God gave her—wisdom—and used it to create another kind of beauty.

She devoted all her energy and time in life to the thirst for knowledge, to thinking and creating. She wanted her beauty to leave fragrance for posterity. She, is the modern embodiment of radium—Madame Curie.

She is beautiful in students' textbooks, beautiful in the voices of praise from the world, beautiful in the cultural history of humanity.

She did not disappoint God's expectation of her beauty. Einstein said: "Among all the world-famous figures, Marie Curie is the only one who has not been spoiled by fame."

She, Marie Curie, through her own struggle, sweat, and wisdom, created another beauty, this beauty belonging to all humanity, eternal beauty. She became a flower that never wilts, forever blooming in the long river of history, so that the whole world can smell her fragrance.

Someone reminds women: "A woman's youth is the most unreliable thing to rely on; when it vanishes in an instant, later, what undoubtedly supports a woman is her pursuit, the wisdom she gains in that pursuit.

Wisdom will make a woman radiate a deeper luster, plus there is the enticing allure of being enveloped by four cycles of mysterious aura. This luster and mystery are precisely from discarding frivolous luxury; its deep-lying, chewable meaning makes one withstand time's winnowing and become ever more splendid."

In the dazzling confusion of real life, we are often misled by outward beauty, taking fleeting things as our pursuit goals, while neglecting the inner, spiritual, wise things as our ultimate support.

Einstein, in his elegy for Marie Curie, praised her thus: "Madame Curie's moral strength and zeal, even if only a small part existed in Europe and among intellectuals, Europe would face a brighter future." Einstein's words remind me of writer Ai Yun, who once said: "When we turn our gaze toward a lively and wise woman, it is because she awakens a slumbering desert with that eternal power, and thus the world revives."

Of course, Ai Writer's wish is good; she hopes "the world revives," but this world is composed of men and women, if we blame the world's "failure to revive" on women, it is clearly unfair.

Fourth Piece, Ever-Fragrant Wild Rose

Liu Guozong

The poor musician Schubert walked along a quiet and desolate street. Feeling that Vienna's winter night was unusually cold.

No wonder, for tomorrow's breakfast, Schubert had not eaten from noon until now, his stomach already had not a single grain of rice, added to his thin clothing, how could he not be cold?

When Schubert passed by an old junk shop, he saw a little boy shivering in the cold wind. "This little boy must be very poor," Schubert thought.

The night was so deep, why had the little boy not yet returned home?

The musician approached the little boy, saw the little boy holding a piece of old clothing and an old book in his hands. Schubert understood that the little boy had wanted to sell from noon until now the piece of old clothing and that old book in his hands, but all day no one had even asked the price.

The little boy dared not go home.

The little boy's difficult situation moved the musician to tears of sympathy.

The musician's childhood had experienced the same ordeal as the little boy, knowing the taste of hunger and cold.

The musician pinched the coin in his pocket prepared for tomorrow's breakfast, then took it out and gave it to the little boy, saying: "Child, please sell me the book in your hand, then hurry home."

The little boy received the coin Schubert gave him, moved to the point of not knowing what to say. Because the book in his hand was fundamentally not worth this much money, this money was clearly Schubert's gift to him.

"Thank you, teacher!" the little boy waved at Schubert, then disappeared into the cold night.

Schubert gazed at the fading silhouette of the little boy, walked under the streetlamp, opened the book he had just bought from the little boy's hands. Schubert was deeply attracted by the poem written by Goethe in the book. In the cold wind, he could not help but recite it aloud—

The boy sees the red rose, the red rose on the plain.

How lovely how beautiful, he hurriedly ran to go see.

In my heart I silently praised: rose, rose, the red rose on the wild plain.

The youth said I will pluck you and take you home, red rose on the wild plain.

The rose said I will prick you, so you will never forget.

I will never yield to you, rose, rose, red rose on the wild plain.

The rose pricked his hand; sorrowful sighs were of no use.

I can only let him ravage me, rose, rose, red rose on the wild plain.

……

The musician recited, unknowingly infected by the poetic mood, intoxicated in the fragrance of the rose. He forgot hunger, cold, poverty, and everything in the surrounding world, and involuntarily began to hum. As the musician hummed, a fresh, natural, beautiful and melodious five-line staff melody was thus born.

This is the song sung worldwide, everlasting—《Red Rose》.

We say, great works are always born from noble and kind hearts.

Chapter Five, The Lazy One Has No Food to Eat

Liu Guozong

Legend has it that on Mount Wudang there was a young Daoist, in the prime of life, strong and powerful, tall and sturdy, full of strength. But he had a habit everyone disliked: "laziness." Every day he either idled about or slept, his shoes torn and not mended, his clothes dirty and not washed, all day disheveled and in ragged attire.

Even so, he was still not satisfied; when eating he liked to be picky. Either he complained that the food others cooked for him was tasteless, or he blamed the chef for making the food unpalatable, and he often even showed his temper, put on airs, and grumbled, making others uncomfortable and himself unhappy inside.

One noon he came to the refectory for a meal. The food was not yet ready, and the busy cook asked him to take out the trash. Hearing this, he was very displeased and said: "I came to cultivate the Dao, not to help you work. Taking out the trash is work for you lowly people—how could it fall to me?"

The cook, hearing the lazy Daoist's such "high theory," became very angry: this lazy good-for-nothing not only does no work, but also speaks smoothly and glibly, fabricating all these fallacies and heresies; thus he said to the lazy Daoist: "If you don't work, then don't eat." The cook expelled the lazy Daoist from the refectory and loudly cursed him as a "demonic obstacle."

This lazy Daoist, due to being truly too lazy and having many unpleasant habits, was disliked by everyone; in the end he could no longer get by, so he had to leave Mount Wudang, lose his job, and go down the mountain.

Daniel Defoe, author of 《Robinson Crusoe》, wrote in "British Business Plan": "A life of sticking to old ways is not happiness and comfort; having work is life, sticking to laziness is death; being busy is joy and happiness, having nothing to do is listlessness and listlessness."

In 《Bible. Proverbs》 it says: "O lazy one, you go and observe the ant's movements, and you may gain wisdom. Ants have no commander, no king, yet they still prepare food in summer. O lazy one, how long will you sleep? When will you wake up? Sleep a little longer, doze a little longer, fold your hands and lie down a little longer, and your poverty will surely come like a robber, your lack as if someone armed were coming."

Yes, even ants know diligence, know to "prepare food in summer." What about us humans? We say that the lazy Daoist on Mount Tai is even less than an ant. As long as a person lives, he must wear clothes and eat food; where does this clothing and food come from? It must rely on our hands and brains.

"Hands can labor, mind can think." This is a truth even elementary school students know, but we some adults often resemble that lazy Daoist on Mount Tai: having a position, yet not faithful to duty, not diligent, not cherishing, all day self-satisfied and carefree, to the point of finally being dismissed and losing the job.

The beginning of 《A Message to Garcia》 tells the reader: "This is an age of exalting individuality and personal rights; do not obey, seek self-fulfillment—it is only natural and right.

However, regrettably many people have not realized that—individual liberation, self-fulfillment, and initiative, dedication, loyalty are not opposed, but rather complementary and indispensable. They treat responsibilities with a cynical attitude, mock the company, frequently jump ship, and after a long time may well degenerate into the sort of person whom a boss's slight neglect would make lazy and slack. They shift blame, cling to old ways, are carefree; a company with such employees is simply a disaster! And they themselves have wasted their youth; I think, no matter which company they jump to, the result will be the same—nothing accomplished.

Look, foreigners know: not being faithful to duty, laziness—this also displeases them, that also not to their liking; in the end the result is, dismissed and without food to eat.

Chapter Six, A Foreign Woman Who "Fears Nothing"

Liu Guozong

Madame Curie was not only a scientist who twice won the Nobel Prize, but also a mother who educated her children well. When she saw that her two daughters, though very talented, were nevertheless very timid and fearful, she thus proposed to them the "Four No-Fears": fear no darkness, fear no thunder and lightning, fear no bad people, fear no illness.

Children are the beginning of life; why did this great scientist place "fear of darkness" at the beginning of life?

What is "darkness"?

Shakespeare, in his tragic work 《Hamlet》, tells people: those guilty ghosts in the sea, in fire, underground, will in the dark night crawl out one by one from their lairs** to wander everywhere, seeking those they can devour, especially the weak and children.

Because those "ghosts" know that in the world only the weak and children are easiest to bully and deceive. Madame Curie is a person of great wisdom; she knows this very well, and she also knows "ghost fire cannot endure light," "ghosts fear the wicked."

Those "harmful insects," the more you fear them, the more they will harm you. "Darkness" is not fearful; those like Shakespeare said "in sea, fire, underground" darkness evil "ghosts" are what the weak fear. Madame Curie educates children to "fear no darkness," namely to have them from childhood cultivate not being evil, dare to uphold justice, a fine virtue.

The former Soviet writer Gorky, in his famous prose poem 《The Seagull》, describes those four seabirds—seagulls, sea eagles, sea ducks, penguins—in the storm, facing gales, lightning and thunder. Among them, the most fearful of thunder and lightning is the penguin. The penguin spends its days full and idle, plump and fat, doing nothing, merely **existing, like a pig, living is for growing flesh. This bird fears death most; if it dies, the flesh will not grow. Therefore, when the storm comes, it fears lightning will strike it dead, so it "timidly hides its plump body beneath the cliff."

Therefore, Madame Curie educates children: "Do not learn that bird which lives only to grow flesh for itself." "Sea ducks and sea gulls," though they have some contribution to human society, have no great prospects, nor much boldness.

Wanting to do something for the world, but limited by one's own abilities, also unable to undertake great undertakings, unable to undertake great undertakings, naturally also unable to withstand the blow and threat of great storms and thunder and lightning.

Therefore, when the storm comes, facing the threat of thunder and lightning, some are frightened senseless by the booming thunder, some "want to bury their fear of the storm in the depths of the sea." The only one unafraid of thunder is the seagull.

Look at that seagull "on the vast ocean, the wind gathers the dark clouds. Between the dark clouds and the ocean, the seagull is like black lightning, flying proudly." Why does it have such courage? Because it wants to challenge the storm, challenge the lightning.

To life, to perilous environments, especially to itself full of confidence in victory. It not only does not fear lightning, but also "is full of longing for the storm." It wants to challenge its own limits. Therefore, Madame Curie educates children to "fear no thunder and lightning."

The ancestor of Chinese Daoism, Laozi, once said: if everyone in the world knew what is beauty, then ugliness would correspondingly arise; if everyone knew what is goodness, then evil would arise; if everyone knew what is good, then bad would arise.

We exist amidst beauty and ugliness, goodness and evil, good and bad. For bad people, what do you fear? The way to deal with evil people, bad people, the 《Bible》 long ago told us: "My son, if evil people entice you, you must not follow."

"Not follow evil people's schemes, not stand on sinners' roads, not sit on scorners' seats……" Madame Curie educating her own children to "fear no bad people" is very wise; distinguishing good from bad is also an important condition for standing in society; if a person cannot distinguish good from bad, how can he stand in society?

Some say, health is blessing. Yes, "if a person gains the whole world but sacrifices his own life, what benefit is there? What else can a person exchange for life?"

Madame Curie surely knows this principle deeply, therefore she educates her children to "fear no illness," to have a healthy body.

Chapter Seven, This Is an Inevitable Trial

Liu Guozong

Banting was a poor Canadian doctor who long worked and lived in a remote countryside. In 1898 he saw in a magazine this message: remove a dog's pancreas, and the dog will get diabetes.

"Could it be that some substance in the pancreas is related to the sugar content in human blood?" Banting pondered. "What kind of substance is this?"

To clarify the problem he was thinking about, Banting returned to his alma mater, the University of Toronto, wanting to borrow the school's laboratory to test his idea. At the time the renowned professor John. McLeod, who had authority over the laboratory, refused him.

Banting was not discouraged; he thought he perhaps had the secret formula for curing diabetes, and that this secret formula was hidden in the dog's pancreas. That celebrity (namely his teacher), mocking said he was indulging in wild fantasies, while Banting himself was excited about his wild fantasy.

Just as summer vacation began, Banting again came to his alma mater, the University of Toronto, three times requesting the teacher's help, to lend him the school's idle summer laboratory for use. This time John found it hard to refuse the student's request.

The experiment began. Banting killed the dog, removed the pancreas, crushed it, extracted the fluid, then injected that fluid into the diabetic dog's body. A miracle appeared: the blood sugar of the diabetic dog rapidly decreased. Then Banting used the same method on cattle and obtained the same result.

Banting succeeded: he discovered insulin in medical and biological history.

A major discovery was once rejected at the door by a celebrity. Success and opportunity are equal for everyone; someone said celebrities are people, ordinary people are also people. Celebrities succeed because of opportunity; this opportunity sometimes also comes to ordinary people, letting ordinary people taste the sweetness of success. For God said, "He causes his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust." We each have an opportunity to contribute to society, yet when opportunity comes, celebrities will be like that professor who held the laboratory authority—first not lending you the "laboratory," second mocking you as "indulging in wild fantasies"; facing conditions' constraints, others mock, will this "ordinary person" give up, or continue pursuing "not to give up until reaching the Yellow River"?

Hubbard, author of 《A Message to Garcia》, said: "Anyone who wants to accomplish something will surely face criticism, insult, and misunderstanding. This is an inevitable trial; every great person understands this; they also understand that greatness cannot be proven. Finally, proof lies in being able to endure filth and humiliation, without resentment or regret."

But some do not think so. Some say: "Success equals opportunity plus ability. Having ability but no opportunity leads to wasted talent, self-contained pride; having opportunity but no ability to deal with a matter, to complete a task, is also lamentable. For most people, what they strive for often cannot be as wished; after trying, the reason is that they did not get proper opportunity."

However, where does this proper opportunity come from? By waiting? That is guarding a stump for a rabbit; heaven will not drop a meat pie from the sky. It is by relentless effort and pursuit. In the process of pursuing ideals, what one faces is not flowers and fine wine, but trials and obstacles, hunger and thirst, fatigue, wind and rain and thunder and lightning, using your smiling face to greet the very "cold"**.

"Endure filth and humiliation," of course for that "dream" in your heart, you must "have no resentment or regret."

Celebrities are people; ordinary people are also people.

What celebrities can do, as long as you strive, "focus on the goal, clearly recognize it, tightly hold onto it"—ordinary people can also do.

Chapter Eight, Approaching Dunhuang

Liu Guozong

With reverence, with longing, I approach a vastness and profundity, I approach a dreamlike realm, I approach sublimity and grandeur.

The scorching sun seeks to block me, the wind and sand set up checkpoints. Under the blazing sun, amidst the wind and sand, I once again feel the difficulty and hardship of approaching my goal. The sun has baked my body and voice dry, yet it cannot bake dry my pursuit and will; the wind and sand bury my figure and footprints, but they cannot bury my confidence and courage.

Sublimity and greatness call from afar, for I know that perseverance and journeying are the only paths to approach sublimity and greatness. In the heavenly realm of time, I seek to find in this world the gradually vanishing breadth and benevolence, as well as the meaning of suffering and happiness.

My sweat pours onto the desolate desert; my dreams take root on the lonely beach. No one will remember my past pursuits and longings, my sincerity and purity, of course also my hesitation and anxiety. In this lonely desert, there is no fine rain, no fallen flowers, nor the green of ferns in summer shade, but there is an unwilling heart pursuing, an unyielding soul seeking.

In this desolate sunset, my fragile heart tries to forget—the joy and sorrow once had. In past years, I have constantly refused and accepted, rejecting the many temptations not belonging to me, accepting the sweetness and bitterness that are mine. When thousands of sails have passed, I then know this wandering, drifting life: "Where is emptiness, where is reality?"

Dunhuang, a thousand years have passed, why does your scenery remain as beautiful as at first? Buddha, you know even the most brilliant flowers will wither; even the tenderest green leaves will wither; even the liveliest banquet will disperse, and even great men will die. Because you "do not grudgingly contend for spring, leave all flowers to envy," you guard this desolation, this loneliness, this hardship and bitterness that are yours.

When the music ends and people disperse, when the seas turn to mulberry fields, you still remain as beautiful as at first.

Some say this world has no death, only eternal life. What dies is the glory before one's eyes, the wealth before one's eyes; the fame and profit before one's eyes, the scheming and strife before one's eyes, the deceit, fraud, cheating, murder, **, collusion, arrogance, slander, jealousy, strife, greed for wealth, love of wealth, ingratitude, betrayal of lord and friend……; what is eternal is compassion, faith, diligence, endurance, kindness, sincerity, friendliness, truth, justice…….

In Dunhuang, within your broad and tolerant chest, I come to understand death and eternity: "The program of life will never change, the structure of life will never change."

"When the tumultuous work noise fills all directions, isolating me from the outside world, my silent Lord, please bring Your peace and rest down.

"When my pleading heart lies prostrate in a tightly closed corner, my Lord, please break in and descend with Your majesty.

"**When the heart is veiled by illusion and dust, O Holy Lord, O Awake Lord, please descend with Your lightning and thunder."

Chapter Nine, even if I were thrown into the sea, also...

Liu Guozong

Here is a story: "Even if I were thrown into the sea, I would not lie." It will enlighten both you and me――

Once, there was a ship sailing from Britain to America. Just after leaving the dock, a boy about ** years old crawled out from below deck. The boy wore dirty, tattered clothes, and had a sallow, emaciated, exhausted expression. Under questioning by the sailors, the boy said his name was Jack, he wanted to stow away to America, hiding in the hold, his food had run out, he was starving unbearably, so he had to crawl out.

Little Jack was brought before the captain, who questioned him sternly about why he boarded without buying a ticket. Little Jack told the captain his reason for not buying a ticket: his stepfather was extremely poor and no longer supported him. At home he could not survive, so he thought of going to his uncle in America to escape, but having no money for a ticket, he had no choice but to hide secretly in the hold.

The captain had heard such stories too many times and did not fully believe Little Jack's words were true; he suspected some crew member was involved in the stowage plan. The captain's questioning of Little Jack became even stricter, but each time he asked, Little Jack's answer remained the same.

To get the truth, the captain threatened Little Jack: "Within ten minutes, if you do not tell the truth, I will throw you into the sea."

Before the eyes of all, standing before the captain, the poor little Jack had no one to help him, no one to speak for him. His face was pale, his whole body trembled, his eyes filled with tears.

The captain said: "Eight minutes have passed, only two minutes left; if you still do not speak the truth, I will throw you into the sea to feed the fish!"

Little Jack, hearing the captain's stern words, gazing at the captain's stern gaze, begged the captain to let him swear to God and plead. The captain nodded in permission.

Little Jack knelt at the bow, facing the sea, eyes slightly closed, and said to God: "Dear Lord, please take me to Your presence, for You have not taught me to lie, and because I cannot lie, I would be thrown into the sea by the captain. Dear Lord, even if I were thrown into the sea, I could not lie!"

The onlookers on deck were moved by Little Jack's sincerity, everyone sympathized with his misfortune, voluntarily donated money and goods to Little Jack, spoke well of him, and asked the captain to spare this honest and pitiful child. The captain was not really intending to throw Little Jack into the sea, but merely wanted to test whether Little Jack was telling the truth.

Seeing Little Jack's sincerity, the captain was also moved, and said to Little Jack: "You are an honest child. Honest people are welcomed everywhere. It is your sincerity that moved me; you may sit safely on my ship to America."

Little Jack saved himself with honesty and sincerity.

Chapter Ten, and still this star, this moon......

Liu Guozong

Walking in the dim wilderness, night like a tide submerged the path. Under the vast night, I lost my way home, like a small bird in the roadside thicket, in darkness I searched, for a beacon to light the way forward.

By the light of the distant stars, I saw that crescent moon like a willow leaf, hanging dimly on the mountain peak; the occasional black cloud drifting past the crescent would sometimes obscure it completely, as if deliberately preventing that faint light from illuminating the night traveler's path.

If not for the cloud's obstruction, my path ahead would not be so blurred, would it? In the dim night, I, exploring the path, recalled the lines of Bing Xin, author of "Little Chrysanthemum Lamp":

The dream on a bright moonlit night—far? near?

But we are merely this silent,

Listen—listen,

This sound that plucks the heartstrings! Before my eyes, mist and light in myriad layers,

Gentle waves, as if drunk!

Sink—sink.

But the moon before my eyes is not the bright moon before Bing Xin's eyes; my eyes see a crescent.

The ancients said "a crescent moon like a hook," "a crescent moon like a bow"; but the crescent before my eyes is finer, more curved, is "a crescent moon like a willow leaf." In Bing Xin's poem it says "we," and since it is "we," there must be two of us, two people together, whether walking or doing things, we will not be lonely or solitary. But now I am alone, walking in the wilderness.

In the dim moonlight over the wilderness, I realize—

Many things appear as illusions—the base of the spire vanishes in darkness, treetops like ink blots.

All of daytime has passed, all past events have become yesterday. Yet, "what is the past?" Someone says: "The past is merely a bygone time that does not return." Tang poet Li Bai said: "Those who abandon me, yesterday's sun cannot be retained."

Yes, who can hold onto "the past," that vanished "yesterday"? And what is the present? The present is exactly the journey I am exploring, exactly where I have set foot.

"A single moment before the eyes contains all time, including all that is anticipated, achieved, and verified within time." Though I cannot see clearly the path before my eyes, all before my eyes is veiled by night.

At this moment, my spirit admonishes me: Do not gaze at beauty obscured by form, color, appearance; instead, "examine what people consider ugly, until it becomes what I consider beautiful."

My surroundings are the deep sleep of night, are people sleeping soundly in the night; I cannot see their dreams, nor can they see mine. My dream, unfolding its wings, is soaring in the night.

At this moment, my spirit again admonishes me: "Do not be elated by a single praise," nor "be saddened by a single reproach." For "trees bloom in spring, bear fruit in summer, do not expect praise, shed leaves in autumn, wither in winter," and also "do not fear reproach.

This moon and this star before my eyes......