Building the Online Martial World: Jianghu You 001 Test Update

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Days without excitement truly feel plain and dull.

For me, nothing compares to a lonely rainy night, brewing a cup of tea, sitting alone by the window, watching leaves drift down, listening to rain tapping on the panes. Amidst the rising steam and subtle fragrance of the tea, I savor the gentle, mild bitterness, contemplating the faint and deep musings of the heart…

Gently swirling the teacup in my hand, I watch the pale green leaves—sometimes needle-like, sometimes broad—dancing up and down, clustering and drifting, shifting places as if seeking their perfect balance. Impatient, I often blow on the cup before the tea is fully steeped, stirring gentle whirlpools that gather and scatter the leaves, helplessly parting. I sip a small mouthful, letting the delicate bitterness spread across my tongue, filling my throat. Then I take a deep breath; the lingering aroma fills my lips and spreads through my lungs, cleansing away all fatigue and indifference.

Excerpt 6

Life is not measured by scores, nor by the number of friends or by how others perceive you.

Life is not judged by your weekend plans, by whom you associate with, how many people you have known, or whether you have ever known anyone at all.

Life is not weighed by your family’s reputation, your wealth, the brand of your car, or where you work and study.

Life is not measured by your appearance, your attire, or your taste in music.

So then, what truly measures life? Life is measured by whom you love and whom you hurt; by the happiness and sorrow you bring to others; by the promises you keep and the trust you betray.

Life is measured by friendship—it can be sacred or wielded as a weapon; by your words, deeds, thoughts, and intentions, whether harmful or beneficial.

Life is measured by the judgments you make, why you make them, for whom or against whom; by whom you deliberately overlook; it includes your envy, your fears, your ignorance, and your acts of revenge.

Life is also measured by the love, respect, and hatred in your heart, and how you nurture and cultivate these feelings. More importantly, it is about whether you use your life to nourish the souls of others.

Only you can choose how to influence others; these choices define the meaning of life. Cherish your friends with gratitude; having a friend is a blessing, being a friend is your honored right.

Excerpt 7

Tolerance is like water. It means forgiving others’ faults without holding grudges or quibbling over trivial details, maintaining harmony and generosity. Gentle as water, tolerance often works better than fierce retaliation when conflicts arise. It is like a clear spring, quietly washing away momentary hostility, bringing calm and clarity.

Tolerance is like fire. A deeper tolerance not only means disregarding personal gain or loss but also warming others’ hearts with love and sincerity. Tolerance, calm as still water, is rare; tolerance that comes to the rescue in times of need is even more precious and moving. Tolerance can melt the ice within hearts and send the warmth of love into others. In this competitive age, isn’t this the tolerance people truly need? Choosing tolerance is choosing care and warmth, and also embracing the vastness of life.

Tolerance is like poetry. It is a poem of life. The highest form of tolerance is not merely how one handles daily matters but elevates into a life attitude toward others. Its meaning extends beyond understanding and love among people to embrace all life on earth with inclusiveness and compassion.

Tolerance is a discipline. For minor mistakes, you can happily forgive. But for grave errors, careful consideration is necessary. Tolerance is not about shielding or hiding faults but about helping.

Of course, tolerance should be “strict with oneself and lenient with others.” Easily excusing oneself is not tolerance but weakness. “Lenient with others” depends on whom you tolerate. To tolerate those who do not cherish it is indulgence; to tolerate the undeserving is leniency; to tolerate the unforgivable is permissiveness. Hence, tolerance itself is an art.

Because of tolerance, a complicated life becomes pure; because of tolerance, a monotonous life becomes vibrant. Tolerance bestows such beautiful colors upon life!

The world is vast, yet nothing surpasses the breadth of the human heart. Let us learn tolerance!

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A mother’s love is selfless, like warm sunshine falling softly upon our hearts. Though silent and gentle, it makes the tender seedlings of life feel the warmth after the rain.

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A mother’s love is great; it asks for no reward, even when the warm sunshine it gives is followed by fierce storms.

At one year old, when my mother offered me a piece of birthday cake freshly cut, I ruthlessly threw it far away and then cried for no reason.

At five, I threw a tantrum because Mom didn’t buy me snacks.

At eight, in a bad mood, I deliberately quarreled with Mom.

At nine, when Mom told me to wear an extra layer because it was cold, I called her nagging.

Now, I argue with my mother almost daily. Once, after a quarrel, I didn’t speak to her for four days.

When I was engrossed in reading, a single word from Mom pulled me out of my world of books. I lost my temper, and though I later regretted it deeply, thinking I shouldn’t have acted that way, Mom acted as if nothing had happened—still speaking to me in her usual tone and cooking my meals as always.

Sometimes, when I lie to Mom, her voice is so gentle and kind. I know she trusts me so much, yet I betray that trust, and it makes my heart ache with sorrow and regret.

After regretting, we clash again in fierce battles. One noon, Mom took the bus five kilometers just to cook for me. Yet at the dinner table, a trivial matter sparked a big fight. I slammed down my chopsticks, left half my bowl of rice uneaten, and stormed into my room, slamming the door loudly. Mom ate the leftover food alone. When she left for work, she still bade me farewell with a sweet voice, as if nothing had happened. At that moment, my anger faded, and I sweetly said goodbye.

A mother’s love is the most selfless. Though I often bring storms, she always gives warm sunshine.

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Misspellings are everywhere in everyday life. Walk down any street, and you’ll see many restaurants—some bustling with customers, others nearly empty even in summer’s heat. The difference often lies in their names. Some restaurants have several characters wrong, lacking any aesthetic appeal. This is not limited to restaurants; many industries suffer from this. For example, among three barbershops, one named “Fat Man’s Barber,” another “Satisfied Barber,” and the third simply “Barber,” naturally the “Satisfied Barber” attracts more customers, since it promises satisfaction—a concept that appeals to fashion-conscious people. This all comes down to literacy: those less educated rarely come up with clever names; the well-educated do not make spelling errors.

Indeed, literacy is invaluable. Some believe computers can help find good names and type them out flawlessly.

However, I found reports of errors caused by computers: in one place, six teachers surnamed Fu were mistakenly listed as “Teacher Fu” with the wrong character on their roster and certificates; a grocery store’s name was mistyped on a computer as “Fu Food Store.” These examples show that even computers can make mistakes.

Whenever we find a misspelling on our certificates, we should correct it to avoid ridicule in formal settings.

While misspellings are widespread, we must correct them. Otherwise, the five-thousand-year-old Chinese civilization may be lost in our generation.

Classmates, let us all strive to master our language well!

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Someone once said, “Do not grieve over an ending, for every end is a beginning that opens a broader world.” Today, we bid farewell to the joyful days of elementary school and, at Nankai, embark on a new journey chasing our dreams…

Every new beginning brings new experiences. In elementary school, we had our first encounters with society: the first game of hide and seek, the first time punished by a teacher, the first time forgetting homework… In middle school, we will have even more experiences to enrich our lives: the first chemistry experiment, the first biology specimen… These firsts bring joy or sorrow, bitterness or sweetness, but all broaden our knowledge, enrich our lives, and add charm… Life shines because of firsts!

Every new beginning also presents new challenges. In elementary school, challenges were mainly academic; as life grows more colorful, challenges multiply: grades are just one aspect; social skills and interpersonal conduct are more important… Don’t be discouraged—these challenges bring success or failure, but they help us grow faster and mature sooner!

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“In the sound of firecrackers, a year ends; the spring breeze brings warmth into the Tusu wine. Thousands of households greet the dawn, always replacing old peach wood charms with new ones.” The Spring Festival is our traditional celebration and the most lively festival of the year. It is bright red lanterns; strings of blazing firecrackers; tables laden with sumptuous reunion meals; and countless joyful faces…

As the Spring Festival approaches, my parents and I bring many gifts to my grandparents’ home. Seeing us, their faces light up with happiness; they shower me with hugs and kisses.

During the festival, everyone busily prepares with joy. Grandfather tends the fire in the kitchen; grandmother stirs the wok; mother washes vegetables by the sink; father and I paste couplets and hang lanterns. The sounds of washing vegetables, sizzling cooking, and our laughter blend into a wonderful New Year symphony.

It’s time for the New Year’s Eve feast! Each dish is rich in flavor and meaning. See—the steamed bass symbolizes surplus year after year; braised chicken stands for great fortune; pearl meatballs represent family reunion; dry pot beef signifies boundless vigor… Our whole family happily savors the plentiful feast, raising glasses in joyful toast.

After dinner, I eagerly pull grandfather outside to set off fireworks. We light the firecracker tubes; with a loud bang, colorful fireworks roar into the night sky, beginning a spectacular display. The blossoms of light streak like bright shooting stars; others open like lotus flowers in midair; some resemble peacocks fanning their tails… The dazzling fireworks dress the night with splendor!

Before bed, we exchange blessings. Grandparents give me two large red envelopes, saying they are lucky money to be placed under my pillow. With the envelopes beneath my head and my family’s blessings close, I drift into sweet dreams. This Spring Festival, I spent a lively and warm reunion with my family.

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The Spring Festival is a traditional Chinese holiday and my favorite festival.

Speaking of the Spring Festival, I recall its customs: setting off firecrackers, pasting couplets, celebrating the Lantern Festival, visiting relatives, and elders giving lucky money to the young.

Among these, I love setting off firecrackers and fireworks the most. Do you know why firecrackers are lit during the Spring Festival? It relates to a folk tale: long ago, a monster named “Nian” came out at New Year to eat people. People discovered that “Nian” feared fire, the color red, and loud noises. So, on this day, they set off firecrackers and paste red couplets to scare it away. That’s why firecrackers are a must on this day.

After hearing this story, I grabbed my favorite goldfish brand snap crackers and ran downstairs. I pulled out one, threw it on the ground, and it burst with a “pop.” Playing with them, I felt the sound wasn’t loud enough, so I threw the whole pack out at once. “Pop!” The sound was indeed ten times louder. Besides snap crackers, fireworks are also great fun. When lit, colorful blooms explode in the sky—what a beautiful sight!

The Spring Festival isn’t just about games; there are delicious foods too, like dumplings, rice cakes, glutinous rice balls, green dumplings, and more.

After playing with the crackers, I washed my hands and went to the kitchen to help Mom make dumplings. I imitated her—first, I picked up a dumpling wrapper, moistened its edge, then used chopsticks to place the filling in the center. Finally, I folded the edges together and pinched the sides. At first, I was clumsy, but soon I got better and my dumplings looked nicer. Before long, we had a whole plate ready. We made three kinds: meat, chive, and shrimp fillings.

I love the Spring Festival; it has so many customs and delicious foods.

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Among the morning’s splendor, nothing is more lush or vibrant than bamboo—the brightest splash of fresh green in the dawn!

Spring returns to the earth, awakening all things. The gentle spring breeze strokes the land like a mother’s warm hand; fine spring rain falls like countless stars, nourishing the earth; thunder rumbles loudly overhead, announcing its presence; soon, the tender bamboo shoots poke their heads out, baptized by the morning light. They look east and west—fluttering butterflies dance with them; bees buzz by, singing together; birds fly near, sharing delightful stories; even the tall trees lean close, embracing the shoots…

The bamboo shoots gaze upon this beautiful world, so harmonious and splendid. But storms may come when Sister Spring turns sour. The wind howls, bending them this way and that, yet they stand firm; rain lashes down, as if trying to uproot them; pests come to torment.

They learn the world’s harshness but are tempered by it.

Time flies like a fleeting horse; in a blink, they grow tall. Now, they are pure in spirit, graceful without pride, standing straight as peaks, vibrant and strong—like a steadfast soul atop a summit. Silent, they never flaunt their talents but work quietly, like a scholar who speaks little, dignified and refined.

Though the wind sweeps over the green bamboo, it cannot shake that firm, verdant figure or the resilient heart within. Perhaps bamboo’s growth is marked by twists and turns, but its outcome will surely be brilliant and bright.