Autumn Colors Over the Capital

After lunch, I suddenly felt like taking some time to wander through Beijing in late autumn.

So I got on a bicycle and set off from Daojugou Bridge, riding along the Kunyu River all the way to Bagou Village, where I lingered for a while in a small park.

Then I turned back from Bagou Village, rode along Wanliu Road to the National Academy of Administration, crossed the Third Ring Road to Zhongguancun South Street, passed by Beijing Institute of Technology and Minzu University of China, went through the National Library, and entered Zizhuyuan (Purple Bamboo Park).

Along the way I kept stopping to look, and whenever I saw a beautiful view I could not help taking a photo, until my phone ran out of battery. After wandering for more than three hours, I finally returned to my study, fully satisfied.

That postprandial outing was exhilarating; some of the unpleasant feelings brought by the setbacks and blows I had encountered in my work were released. Thank you, Nature, who always with your life-giving hand repairs my mood.

Nature, too, with its superhuman craftsmanship, has decorated Beijing in autumn with splendor.

Ginkgo trees line both sides of the streets everywhere. Sunlight filters through the leaves, and the golden sunlight and the golden ginkgo leaves set each other off beautifully. The red leaves of Boston ivy cascade down from high walls like a waterfall—bright red, luminous, sweeping away every trace of gloom in the heart.

The riot of autumn colors makes one linger on, reluctant to leave. Red, yellow, blue, green, orange, purple—every color is present on the canvas of autumn.

That small park in Bagou Village unexpectedly held rice paddies already harvested, and the withered lotus leaves in the lotus pond had a charm of their own. This is the autumn I know: the earth, after the farmers have finished harvesting, reveals its original color. The earth, too, needs rest, so that in the coming year it will have the fertility to let plants and trees flourish again.

I love life, I love everything in nature, and I have always lived with enthusiasm. It is this vigorous vitality that has supported me in confronting death again and again without being crushed by the Grim Reaper.

Life is so beautiful; its only flaw is that it is too short.

Autumn leaves are gorgeous and quietly beautiful. When they fall from the tree, one season of life comes to an end. They will turn back into soil and become nourishment for other lives.

A human lifespan of a hundred years passes like a white pony glimpsed through a crack. Every inch of time in every person’s life is infinitely precious. My work is to strive to win more time for those threatened by death. As a sentinel standing guard over life, in this process I have experienced how precious life is.

Many times heaven does not fulfill human wishes, and we who make medicine our calling fail to successfully block the Grim Reaper’s steps. We can only watch some patients’ lives slowly drift from the sky to the ground like these autumn leaves. Full of regret, yet we can only let nature take its course.

All things that are born must die, and the earth cannot endlessly provide nourishment for every life. Living beings cycle back and forth between birth and death, and none can escape. Precisely because it is short, life is all the more precious.

I only ask to live as enthusiastically as I can for the rest of my days. Whether I live brilliantly is not important; as long as I can always be full of enthusiasm, I will not have lived this life in vain. After I am gone, if anyone remembers me, I hope they will say: “Hey, that fellow was always brimming with vitality and warmth.” That will be enough.

I came into this world, and I loved it deeply. This is the whole interpretation I give to my life.