Reading Widely Brings Calm of Mind and Longevity

In my spare time over the past few days, I finally finished reading Years Gone Like Water, the oral autobiography of the centenarian Zhou Youguang. A hundred-year-old man calmly recounts events he lived through: the series of historical upheavals from the late Qing Dynasty through the early Republican era, the Japanese bombing, the civil war between the Nationalists and Communists, the Anti-Rightist Movement, and the Cultural Revolution. In the war years he lost his own daughter, and his son was struck by a stray bullet that pierced his intestines, nearly costing him his life.

He himself was tormented by depression when young, was locked in a cowshed and sent to a "May Seventh Cadre School" for labor reform in his sixties, and underwent prostate surgery. Painful illness and bitter years never broke him; he stubbornly lived to 112. He also became one of China's rare erudite scholars—the very Albert Einstein was willing to converse with him. Zhou Youguang loved reading all his life. Another centenarian, Yang Jiang, once said that troubled people mostly read too little yet think too much. How true! The power of culture lies not in making people rich, but in enabling them to live with composure and magnanimity. I strongly recommend everyone read this book by Mr. Zhou.

Many book-lovers live to a great age. Professor Zheng Ji, another longevity star, also lived to 110; Yang Jiang, companion of Qian Zhongshu, lived to 105; Professors Ji Xianlin and Ren Jiyu both lived past ninety with sharp ears and bright eyes. These long-lived scholars share a common trait: they are both learned and open-minded. Their lives were not free of setbacks. Professor Zheng Ji, like Zhou Youguang, underwent a major operation in his sixties, and Yang Jiang also suffered the grief of losing her daughter.

Inner wounds and illness once tormented them, yet in the end they all accepted reality calmly and did not wallow in vexation all day. I have read all their writings; the style is the man. Their essays reveal them as open-spirited people. During the Cultural Revolution, Ji Xianlin was persecuted by colleagues and students at Peking University, but after it ended he never held it against anyone and never gave those former persecutors a hard time at work.

Professor Ji said he understood why those people acted as they did in that peculiar era; had he been in their place, he might not have done better. Such magnanimity saved him from much suppressed resentment, kept his emotions steady, and greatly benefited his health. Ji's self-cultivation was closely tied to his profound scholarship. His prose reads light and unhurried, yet the deep learning between the lines is utterly convincing.

Zhou Youguang endured adversity throughout his life. When the Japanese invaded China, their warplanes bombed his home to ruins. In the Cultural Revolution, the Red Guards ransacked his house, and he was sent down to the May Seventh Cadre School in Pingluo, Ningxia, for labor reform. He was already over sixty at the time and fainted from exhaustion working in the fields.

None of this turned Zhou into a complainer against heaven and earth. At 104 he wrote the essay "The Big Tree Outside the Window," recording the quiet, contented days he and his wife spent happily together in a tiny study of only nine square meters. His desk had weathered over and sometimes pricked his palm, so he patched it with transparent tape; once patched, the desktop was smooth. In such surroundings he continued his research and writing, watching the birds outside the window live freely, fully content. Others told him his study was too small. He replied: "A broad heart makes the room large; a small room makes the heart broad."

Professor Zheng Ji was a founder of general chemistry in China. His life story resembled Zhou Youguang's: both went through the bitterest years, witnessed war and turmoil, suffered repeated ruin, and endured illness. Yet both were philosophically cheerful and indifferent to fame and gain. After turning one hundred, Zheng Ji sold his house and donated the money to establish scholarships for needy students.

These elderly gentlemen lived simply all their lives, never posing as mysterious figures. They did scholarship honestly, without affectation or exaggeration. I cherish their sincerity and plainness and have been deeply moved by their spiritual strength.

Every life has its rough patches; no one sails smoothly forever. Living in this vast world, we inevitably meet all kinds of displeasure. Pursuing absolute tranquility is an impractical fantasy, but reading more books helps a person remain calm, and emotionally stable people live longer.