Canglang's water

Author: None
Publisher:
Publishing Time: None
Features: The author writes with a conversational style and a smooth narrative, depicting the struggles of Chi Dawei, a medical graduate student, who harbors grand ambitions yet lacks power and status. The story also explores his journey from misfortune to fortune, highlighting the challenges and opportunities he faces. While vividly portraying his life, the author also unravels the dilemmas that plague him. Readers are effortlessly drawn in, as if they are enjoying a novel while simultaneously experiencing reality. "The water of the is clear, it can wash my; the water of the is turbid, it can wash my feet." — Qu Yuan, "" In the work, Chi Dawei loses his spiritual anchor in the traditional "nation and state," but the author's concept of "a vacuum of meaning" clearly extends beyond this. At this moment of social transformation, the original spiritual anchors such as "the nation," "ethnicity," "the people," and "freedom" all appear unstable and floating. When Chi Dawei, like all of us, faces the "vacuum of meaning," I cannot help but recall the "nothingness" faced by Wei Lianhu, the solitary figure in Lu Xun's writing. For humanity, the vacuum of meaning is a tragic and sorrowful state, yet it is also the confusion and pain faced by intellectuals when making choices. In Chi Dawei, we no longer see the desperate and self-destructive resistance of Wei Lianhu. While Wei Lianhu could "step into the thorns and wander for a while" in the absence of a path, Chi Dawei and his peers face a situation where even the "thorns" are gone—after the road disappears, they are lost and bewildered. In the continuous compromises of Chi Dawei and his peers, what we see more is the insignificance of the individual and the helplessness of life. They were born without a strong weapon to combat the void, and their alienation becomes natural, losing its inherent tragedy. Thus, when reading "," we feel a strange sense of empathy for Chi Dawei and his peers, as if we are sympathizing with ourselves. Understanding their "fall" is akin to understanding our own lives. This is the peculiar charm of ""—it does not give readers the opportunity to judge others' souls from a high vantage point but instead constantly compels them to reflect on themselves: When faced with the vacuum of meaning, what should we do?