The Ice of Being and the Bronze of Fate | 生与命

I am a healer nearing forty, father to two young souls. Fifteen years in the hallowed grove of medicine, where life and death duel daily, have taught me how existence treads thin ice and destiny carries the weight of bronze bells. In days steeped in the scent of antiseptic, books became my Peach Blossom Spring—each brushstroke on aged paper loosening the taut nerves beneath my white coat, as if riding parchment breezes back to the phoenix tree I climbed in boyhood.

我是一名年近不惑的医者，亦是两个幼子的父亲。十五载杏林岁月，日日与生死短兵相接，愈知"生之如履薄冰，命之重若千钧"。在消毒水气息浸润的时光里，书籍逐渐成为我的桃花源——当目光抚过墨痕，白大褂下紧绷的神经便舒展开来，恍若乘着纸页间的清风，重返少年时攀爬的那棵梧桐树梢。

Though Confucius' claim of "no doubts at forty" sits ill with me, I cherish the Milky Way of wisdom swirling through Chinese classics. These yellowed pages transcend mere words—they are mirrors forged by sages' lives: Zhuangzi's carefree drumming, Qu Yuan's solitary plucking of river herbs, Su Dongpo's bamboo-staffed wanderings... every character serving as a raft to navigate life's turbulent waters. Now, stethoscope in one hand and the Yellow Emperor's Canon in the other, I build bridges between wards and libraries—to heal not just bodies but souls, using ancient texts as lanterns revealing life's glow through time's weathering.

虽不喜孔夫子"四十不惑"的断言，却独爱中华典籍里流转千年的智慧星河。那些泛黄的书卷何止是文字？分明是古圣先贤用生命淬炼的明镜：庄子击缶而歌的豁达，屈子涉江采薇的孤贞，东坡竹杖芒鞋的从容......字字皆是渡人苦海的舟楫。如今我左手握着听诊器，右手捧着《黄帝内经》，在病房与书房间架起桥梁——不仅要医治沉疴，更愿以典籍为引，让更多人看见生命在沧桑中绽放的光芒。

Outside my clinic window, the phoenix tree dons new jade leaves, startling me into realizing I've reached the age of reciting The Thousand Character Classic to my children. When little fingers trace illustrations in the Compendium of Materia Medica, I recall midnight vigils in ICU units. Perhaps a healer's calling isn't merely guarding heartbeats, but ensuring the eternal wisdom in our cultural veins—like dandelion seeds carried on literary winds—might take root in yearning hearts. For what we truly preserve isn't just vital signs, but the undying flame of life's meaning passed down through millennia.

诊室窗外梧桐又添新绿，恍然惊觉自己已到了为孩子诵读"天地玄黄"的年纪。每当稚子指着《本草纲目》问东问西，便想起那些在重症监护室守候的深夜。或许医者的使命不仅是守护心跳，更要让中华血脉里生生不息的智慧，如同蒲公英的种子，借文字之风，落在更多渴望滋养的心田上。

Thank you！ 谢谢！