I wonder what dreams everyone here once had, and whether they still have them now. Like most people, I dreamed of becoming a scientist when I was little, and then a soldier in the People's Liberation Army. Later on—I can't even say when—I seemed to lose my dreams, and all I knew was to do my own part well. Yes, I'm sure there's nothing wrong with that, but I believe a person's life shouldn't be limited to the world right before their eyes and the ground beneath their feet. Why not try to pluck the stars from the sky? And so I became... a romantic, you could say. Some of my classmates might call me a Mary Sue or something, but they really can see the shadow of romanticism in me—probably.

      Speaking of romanticism, I'm sure we've all heard a lot about it in our Chinese textbooks. The first names that come to mind are inevitably Qu Yuan, Li Bai, and the like. But have you ever thought about what these people have brought to you? Or, more precisely, what has the subject of Chinese—which they represent—brought to you? Many of you have probably had this experience: whether you study Chinese or not, your final exam score ends up about the same, so you just give up. I'm guilty of that too (laughs). Many others have gradually come to dislike Chinese for various reasons. But there's really no need for that. Chinese is more than just a language; it's also a culture. You might not love the subject itself, but you're surely interested in something related to it. As for me, I love literature. Although I haven't read many books and I'm not much of a reader, when I truly decide to dive into a literary work, I sink into it completely, digging out the value of the words, uncovering the meanings behind them, and then reflecting on what they've brought me—just as I'm reflecting now on what the literature I love has brought me. I love literature, and so I fell in love with Chinese. If I trace the reason back, I'd still like to mention my teacher—my middle school Chinese teacher. She truly made me fall in love with literature. While surfing the internet, I often notice a pattern: those who love Chinese almost always have someone in their lives—usually their Chinese teacher—who made them fall in love with the subject, or at least with something related to it.

      Of course, the reason I love literature isn't just the influence of one teacher. As the saying goes, "The master leads you through the door, but cultivation is up to you." The real reason I fell in love with literature is that, within the literary world, I can build a free world of my own and find a piece of pure land. You want to travel far and see the mountains and rivers of distant places, but then you find yourself surrounded by a mountain of practical concerns, unable to break free. We've all been trapped in this world for far too long. Some people may never read ten thousand books in their lifetime, let alone travel ten thousand miles. But in your own mind, you can build a free, pure world and paint it with your pen. Of course, this is more vague than painting, but it's no easier. Sometimes, words truly carry more power than a picture. And words aren't just powerful—they can also warm people. The late modern writer Shi Tiesheng is the most representative example. I remember a while ago, I was feeling depressed and down because of some things, until I read his essays and then went back to his stories again and again. I found that, like everyone else, he created a world of his own with his pen—but the world he created always warmed one person after another with the most ordinary words. This is Shi Tiesheng's power, but it's not only his power. At its root, it's the power of words. Beneath everyone's pen lies a world of their own—that is the literary world. Of course, to some extent, this is indeed a bit idealized, which is why I call myself a romantic. But no matter who you are, after going through these three years, you'll start moving toward what we call realism. Still, as I said before, we've all been trapped in this world for far too long.

      Finally, I'd like to end with a quote I love: "In a humble corner, yet with a heart set on the stars." Never let reality bind you. Strive to become your true self. That is what Chinese has given me, and that is what I aim to achieve—even if it all sounds a bit absurd.