The Land of Tea

The sprouting of every blade of grass and the chirping of every bird often move me, moving me with the beauty of life.

When I use my own hands in the delivery room to cradle one fresh, living soul after another, that crisp cry that pierces the silent firmament, those clear eyes full of curiosity about the future world, move me even more, moving me with how beautiful life truly is.

Once, while taking a car home, just as we were nearing the entrance of my residential complex, a disabled puppy was crossing the road. Its black fur was matted and filthy, covered in a thick layer of dust and grime. For some reason, its two hind legs could not stand or walk, hanging bent and limp. I do not know what kind of look was in that little black dog's eyes or what it was feeling; I only know that it held its head high, neck arched, chest puffed out, dragging its body and hind legs with its front paws, struggling forward in a swaying, arduous trek. All the vehicles stopped then. No one honked their horns, no one opened their mouths to mock; everyone was watching quietly, watching this disabled yet tenacious puppy slowly cross the road. At that moment, my heart surged with waves of emotion, my thoughts scattered, and I was moved once again by the beauty of life, moved by how uniquely beautiful life is.

Indeed, the beauty of life lies in its vitality, its brilliance, and its tenacity.

The sculptures under a sculptor's knife are beautiful, the paintings from a painter's brush are beautiful, and the embroidery under a seamstress's needle is beautiful; yet, compared to these vibrant, flourishing lives, what is their beauty worth? Even a blade of grass by the roadside, a nameless flower, or a fluttering butterfly is more soul-stirring than the armless Venus or the smile of the Mona Lisa!

Dare you say it is not? A lonely little tree in the Gobi Desert, though frail, displays the exuberance and radiance of life. It adds a touch of green to the desolate desert and gives hope and light to the lost traveler. It does not fear the sky-filling sand, the scorching sun, or the incessant gales. Its simple life blooms with the power of an extraordinarily tenacious beauty. When the wind carries seeds in its flight and accidentally scatters one onto a steep cliff, this tiny seed silently begins to brew its own life. When it breaks through the pressure of the rock, bursts through the soil, and grows upward with vigor, can you not marvel at the tenacity and beauty of life?

The beauty of a stream lies in its ceaseless, tinkling flow; the beauty of the ocean lies in its vastness and depth; the beauty of grass lies in its lush greenery that no wildfire can destroy; the beauty of high mountains lies in their weight and stability; the beauty of spring flowers lies in their subtle fragrance and the hope they carry; the beauty of autumn fruits lies in their richness and bountiful harvest.

Since life is so beautiful, let us cherish this beautiful life well.

If one is rain, one must nourish the earth; if one is a plum blossom, one must defy the winter snow and bloom proudly; if one is a great tree, one must tower into the clouds, verdant and upright; if one is a river, one must surge endlessly, rushing a thousand miles; if one is an eagle, one must spread its wings and soar, battling the clouds and wind, overlooking the earth.

How short life is for us. How should we, these ordinary people, grasp our own lives? How should we bloom with the splendor and beauty of our own lives within our limited time?

I think: only through sincerity, kindness, tolerance, gratitude, and diligence; only through indifference to fame and wealth, ceaseless struggle, and endless dedication, can we, these ordinary people, find the beauty of our lives.

One rainy night, I was burning the midnight oil at my desk when suddenly a buzzing sound reached my ears. I thought, Could an airplane have flown into my house to take a nap? I took a closer look—the little rascals, a few small mosquitoes. I didn't care about them at all. They were discussing how to suck my blood. "I want the face; his face is so supple and moist, it's easier to pierce." "I want the thighs; there's more meat and blood in the thighs." But I wouldn't allow it. They tried to seduce me with sweet talk, saying things like how handsome I was. But I thought, that's just a fact; even if they didn't say it, everyone knows. Since I happened to be in a good mood, I agreed to let each mosquito take one small sip. In the end, they ate their fill and left. About two hours later, they came back—arrived brazenly, the same group. They said they eat five meals a day and this was their last one, and they promised they wouldn't be like last time; after all, one shouldn't eat too much for the last meal or they'd get fat, and they should know when to stop. But I refused to agree, yet the facts proved that I had softened my heart once again...

After they left, stuffed and satisfied once more, they even asked me for a toothpick. I swore I would never let them suck my blood again, because my face was covered in the marks left by their fiery red lips. But my vows are usually ineffective. At midnight, they arrived uninvited. They said they had a habit of eating a midnight snack and wanted me to let them have one last go. "I'm looking for a 'barren patch' to have a good feast." "I want to drink enough to have a good sleep." I became furious, and then I used the Sunflower Acupoint-Sealing Hand, and they started cursing me. "Damn it, you won't even let us have a little blood, you're such a cheap bastard," one mosquito cursed loudly. "People say if you're going to be cheap, you should be cheap with style, but you..." The ancients once said: if it is unbearable, there is no need to bear it. So, my hands immediately transformed into the Snake-Scorpion Hand. At this moment, the rain outside the window fell even more fiercely and heavily, and the thunder and lightning signaled that I was about to perform a feat that would shock the heavens and make the earth weep. I pressed my palms together, channeled my energy to my dantian, my gaze resolute, holding my breath, and slowly opened my palms. I saw a crystal ball the size of a ping-pong ball, and vaguely inside, one could see a two-headed creature—one head a scorpion, the other a snake. The crystal ball slowly grew larger, appearing more crystal clear and easier to see. The crystal ball had already become the size of a soccer ball. I gathered my strength, pushed my hands backward, and the Snake-Scorpion Break burst forth. After the crystal ball was shattered, some crystalline fragments flew out, sparkling in the surroundings and forming a protective barrier around me. The snake-scorpion monster first shot venom at the mosquitoes, then used its scorpion pincers to snip off their wings, and then (due to the content being too bloody, the description is skipped) executed them by slow slicing. Only a few drops of blood were left on the ground (from a human perspective, they were a few drops, but from a mosquito's perspective, they were several pools).

This time, my vow was finally fulfilled. I refused them, and in the nights that followed, the mosquitoes never dared to come again. Perhaps it was because the little mosquitoes hadn't watched under their parents' guidance, leading to trauma in their young minds, while the mother mosquitoes might have been so terrified they checked into a mental hospital, and the father mosquitoes were reduced to househusbands taking care of their wives and children, having no time to "patronize" me—besides, male mosquitoes only drink plant juices. Occasionally, I would spot a few suicide squads (also known as the Women's Army) who came to see me under the banner of "using my blood to sacrifice to our fallen comrades." They were just a bit lacking in manners and didn't bring any gifts, but in the end, they all died under my palms. Although there were countless casualties, and I felt ashamed and guilty for causing such an outcome, I understood a principle: in some matters, if you blindly accommodate, perhaps your losses will be even heavier; conversely, if you refuse, the matter can be better resolved.