Freedom

Memory is a kind of reunion; forgetting is a kind of freedom. I think that is wonderful. Memory is a kind of reunion, so whenever I recall Fudan University's history with all of you in class, you feel that history has never truly passed. Once humanity has memory, you realize that some people and some things will always remain; some people and some things never disappear. That is an immense comfort to the human heart, an immense comfort. A long time ago, I saw a photograph that deeply moved me. An elderly gentleman, leaning on a cane, his hair white with age, stood at the gate of a university. He solemnly placed his cane on the ground, then knelt down as well. There at the university gate, he lowered his head and kissed the soil with his lips. There was a sense of devotion to it, a sacred kind of devotion. When I saw that picture, I was already a doctoral student. After seeing it, I wrote a sentence in my notebook—my diary. At the time, I did not know I would stay. I thought I would leave Fudan University and go out into society to make my way, right? But in the end, I stayed. I had not expected it. Back then, not knowing I would stay, I wrote in my diary: Fifty years from now, if I return, I will kneel and kiss this land. So many people ask me, what does Fudan University mean to you? To me, it is not merely a job. You are not merely students to me, either. You are who I once was. When I see you, I see my former self. So Fudan University is not just a school, not just a job. It is a patch of spiritual soil for