Building an Online Martial World: Wanderer’s Journey 001

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A stone lay lonely in the deep mountains for a very long time, harboring a dream: one day, it wished to soar into the sky like a bird. When it confided its aspiration to its companions, they immediately mocked it: "Look at that—talking big dreams! That’s exactly what it means to have your head in the clouds!" "What a fanciful delusion!" The stone paid no heed to their scorn and continued to nurture its dream, patiently awaiting the right moment. One day, a man named Zhuangzi passed by. The stone sensed his extraordinary wisdom and shared its dream with him. Zhuangzi said, "I can help you realize your dream, but first you must grow into a towering mountain. This path will be fraught with hardships." The stone replied, "I am not afraid of suffering." So, it absorbed the essence of heaven and earth, drank in the nourishing rain and dew, and grew with relentless determination. Through countless years and countless storms, it finally became a mountain. Then, Zhuangzi summoned the great roc, whose wings struck the mountain with tremendous force. The earth shook and the sky trembled; with a deafening roar, the mountain shattered, and innumerable stones were hurled into the sky. At the moment it soared, the stone smiled knowingly—it had finally tasted the joy of flight. But soon, it fell from the sky, returning to its original form and resting where it had always been. Zhuangzi asked, "Do you regret it?" The stone answered, "No, I do not regret it. I once grew into a mountain, and I once flew!"

In truth, a person’s life is much like that stone. From beginning to end, the form may remain unchanged, yet among stones, some bear the dream of flight; among people, some harbor lofty ambitions.

Why can’t we, like that stone, hold the will to soar? When one sets their sights high, they must endure greater toil and sweat. Even if, after striving with all their might, the goal remains out of reach, they will have traveled farther and achieved more than those who set their aims low. Lincoln summarized his life with this insight: the height of a natural fountain never exceeds its source; a person’s ultimate achievements cannot surpass their beliefs. Our ancestors, having witnessed much soaring and much crawling, impart these profound truths: strive for the highest standards, and you may achieve the middle; aim for the middle, and you attain the low; aim low, and you gain nothing.

So, harbor lofty ambitions! Let your spirit soar to the clouds! Let us embrace an aspiration worthy of a lifetime’s struggle! Not to flutter low among weeds, but to dare to ascend the heavens, wing to wing with the great roc. Cast aside the cheap joys beneath the sparrow’s eaves; courageously rise to the heights, braving wind, rain, thunder, and lightning. Fight for your ideals, and spread your wings to soar into the vast sky of life.

Excerpt 2

Choosing confidence means choosing openness and calmness; it means standing firm in the face of fame and fortune; it means holding your head high before power, unfurling the sails of self-assurance to break through the waves and showcase the spirit of struggle.

The power of faith lies in its ability to help you raise your sails even in adversity; the charm of faith calls forth courage even in peril; the greatness of faith enables you to maintain a noble heart even in misfortune.

Endurance is a tenacity that never boasts; a resilience undeterred by wind or rain; a loyalty that seeks neither fame nor profit.

A towering building stands firm because of its strong pillars—ideals and faith are the pillars of life’s edifice; a ship sails forward because of a compass that points the way—ideals and beliefs are the compass of life’s voyage; a train speeds thousands of miles because of guiding rails—ideals and faith are the rails beneath life’s journey.

After the storm, you will see a sky and water united, where gulls glide and fish swim. Emerging from the thorns lies a broad avenue strewn with flowers. From the mountaintop, beneath your feet spreads a cloud of verdant mountains cloaked in mist. In this world, the fall of one star does not dim the brilliance of the night sky; the wilting of one flower cannot desolate the entire morning.

To a person, faith is like wings to a bird; faith is the wings that enable flight.

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With perseverance, the loneliness of life’s journey can unfold into a vast blue sky; with perseverance, solitude can become a flying V of wild geese; with perseverance, joy can bloom into a garden full of flowers.

Sailing across the vast sea, losing direction, the sailor will perish beneath the waves; wandering in a boundless wilderness, losing direction, the traveler will be left to perish in desolation; seeking a glimmer of hope in endless exploration, losing direction, success will slip by, leaving a lifetime of regret.

Only by setting out can one reach ideals and destinations; only through struggle can one achieve brilliant success; only by sowing can one reap; only by pursuit can one taste a dignified life.

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I long to walk in the rain, to let the rain wash away that memory. Perhaps the rain will clear my mind. The raindrops striking my face feel so similar to tears that one cannot tell them apart, and so I say: Boys don’t cry!

The rain falls gently, softly upon the earth, cleansing away the dirt and grime of the world, bringing a sense of purity and freshness—but the cold rain cannot wash away the grayness in my heart! I step out from the bustling city center, the world of lights feels so distant from me. I walk to the middle of a tree-lined path and stand there, surrounded only by the sound of rain, as if people have all vanished. It feels so good! Holding an umbrella, my heart feels tender and warm, almost afraid to breathe. Scenes from the past, one after another, as if rehearsed long ago, slowly pass before my eyes in the rain, slowly passing by…

Raindrops fall from sky to umbrella, seep through, chilling my body. I just stand there, not knowing how long, nor if I am weary. I can no longer choose; with a sorrowful gaze, I look at you. Such a me, the feeling of happiness has turned into heartache! I cannot tell if the rain falls straight or slantwise; I do not know which direction my umbrella should face. One umbrella, one person—walking in wind and rain feels so lonely! Then silently I turn and leave that corner. Though only a fleeting glance, it is enough to linger in my mind for a whole day.

The rain gradually ceases; the bleak autumn wind blows, scattering golden maple leaves across the ground, each like a tear, drifting far away, becoming a cloud. My heart is lost, chasing after the autumn wind with nowhere to be found! Falling to earth, turning to dust. Who, and when, will lift their eyes to see the rainbow, or look back to find no dust swirling in the wind? Perhaps the waters flow east, but people and things change; perhaps fate only brushed past, gone by the time one turns around.

Excerpt 4

A mentor of mine was nicknamed "Idle Clear Water." Some may misunderstand this title, imagining idleness, drifting without ambition. Yet little do they know, in life, the balance between action and inaction touches upon the highest realms of personal integrity and pursuit. Confucius said, "The friendship of gentlemen is as pure as water; that of petty men as sweet as honey." Water has always been the essence of a gentleman's demeanor.

Laozi said: The highest good is like water. Water nourishes all things without striving, content to settle in the lowest places, therefore approaching the Way. Life should be like water—wherever placed, maintaining a peaceful heart, deep and calm as an abyss; relating to others with love, speaking with sincerity, acting with purpose, and mastering the timing of all things.

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See how water flows: no matter how uneven the ground, when full, it remains level. Wherever water passes, it leaves a mark, just as a person’s integrity leaves a trace. "The water of Canglang is clear, it can wash my tassel; the water of Canglang is turbid, it can wash my feet." Irrigating fertile fields, every drop is meaningful; it slips silently with the wind, nurturing all things quietly.

Seasons bring cold and heat. In the harsh winter, water freezes into ice and snow—stern and pure, like a person’s steadfast integrity. When spring thunder awakens the earth, the rivers and lakes break free with a roar, the snow melts from mountains and plains, flowing into the spring waters, nourishing all things anew. Acting in harmony with the time, just as Confucian teaching says: "If poor, cultivate oneself alone; if prosperous, help the world."

Not seeking glory, yet achievements come. Because it does not contend, no one in the world can compete with it. In this world, there are those who curry favor and seek power—passion like fire, hot and fleeting. Compared to water’s character, one is serene and cool, the other anxious and restless—like fire and water, incompatible and irreconcilable.

Ancient people had no mirrors; they used a vessel filled with water to see their reflection—hence the term "mirror" and "reflection." Since water can serve as a mirror, why not use it to reflect upon ourselves?

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Drinking tea is about a state of mind—the feeling of body and spirit purified, dispelling restlessness, leaving behind deep reflection. Tea is a mood, a silence that hesitates between speech and quiet; a sorrow veiled behind a smile and a frown; a "thousand reds in one cup, ten thousand beauties in one kiln"—the melancholy after the bustle.

Tea is a collection of morning memories; in any season, drinking tea evokes the lazy sunshine of spring. Sitting alone in a room, pouring a cup of tea, watching the leaves unfurl, I often find myself deep in thought: tea only releases its fragrance after boiling water; life too must endure trials to become serene. Whoever cannot withstand the vicissitudes of the world, the ups and downs, will hardly savor the rich aroma of life. Look at the tea when first steeped—it rolls and tumbles in the water, just like us when we first encounter the world: stumbling and bruised all over.

Thus, I love tea. Call it following one’s nature, call it an elegant affectation, though I still dare not say I “appreciate” it, only that I “drink” it, yet from drinking alone I have tasted bitterness, then sniffed the fragrance, and now I cannot go a day without tea.