The Meaning of Life Lies in the Pursuit

Over three years， the team behind this book raced against time to interview dozens of esteemed individuals who have witnessed and contributed to the nation’s development and leaps forward. These national figures， spanning fields such as language， art， science， and space exploration， have dedicated their lives to both pursuing personal dreams and seeking breakthroughs for the country’s progress. Their choices at life’s crossroads， their failures and joys in their struggles， and their challenges and inspirations in scientific research reflect and convey enduring cultural traditions and values of resilience and simplicity.

My Family， My Country

Wang Ning

CITIC Press Group

June 2024

75.00 (CNY)

Wang Ning

Wang Ning， journalist and host， she won the championship in the 6th CCTV Host Competition in 2011. In 2012， she joined the News Commentary Department of the CCTV News Center. In September 2021， she conceived and produced the documentary interview program My Family， My Country for Central Radio and Television Station where she also served as the host.

Every significant era remembered by history has left behind unique and vivid marks. As recorders of these times， have we ever been absent?

This is the original intention behind My Family， My Country.

On a late night as I began writing， I saw the front page of the Xiamen Evening News in my WeChat Moments. The 95-year-old conductor Zheng Xiaoying was holding a microphone， guiding the audience through an opera performance. The headline read， “City’s Icon Upgraded: Zheng Xiaoying Opera Art Center Philharmonic Hall Officially Opens， Set to Become an Opera Incubator!” I expressed my joy with a like， and memories rushed in， accompanied by the July heat of Xiamen.

Three years ago， my interview with Professor Zheng Xiaoying was scheduled after one of her rehearsals. Upon arrival， I discovered that her rehearsal hall was in a public transportation training center. The stifling heat of the hall instantly soaked my shirt. Professor Zheng’s hair was wet with sweat， yet she joked with a smile， “We have air conditioning here too， but it’s not cooling; it’s heating. See， this is an air conditioner vent. Our work could be titled The Battle of the Dog Days.” On a simple stage set up with iron frames， I saw the actors rehearsing. They were not professionals but opera enthusiasts who had rushed over after work. As the music played， some movements were stiff， and some dance steps were awkward， but no one stopped， going over it again and again. “I believe that popularizing opera requires someone to take the lead. I always believe that art and music are important in shaping lives!” I crouched beside Professor Zheng’s chair and looked up to see the light in her eyes.

During the interviews with the elder figures for My Family， My Country， I often saw such light. It flowed through their graying hair， carrying with it the youthful pursuits and aspirations that still lived within them. For this land， they have loved， dreamed， dedicated， and pursued. In this world， they still love， dream， dedicate， and pursue without regret.

They never thought about being remembered. More often than not， we know them only through numbers. “In March 2021 alone， six academicians in the field of science passed away; in the two months before that， three others left us.” This piece of news marked the starting point of My Family， My Country.

In the long river of history， they have left an indelible mark. But when they become elderly and step out of the spotlight， standing outside our view， how should we tell their stories? Can we find them a little earlier， and remember them a little sooner?

Lu Yuanjiu， at 101 years old， was a key figure in the “Two Bombs， One Satellite” project， the world’s first Ph.D. in inertial navigation instrumentation， and a recipient of the “July 1st Medal.” Chang Shana， at 90， is the daughter of “Dunhuang’s Guardian” Chang Shuhong， a student of Lin Huiyin， and a contemporary Chinese craftsman， pattern artist， and art educator. Zheng Xiaoying， at 92， is the first Chinese conductor to stand on a foreign opera stage and the first female symphonic opera conductor in New China. Luan Enjie， at 81， was the first commander of China’s lunar exploration project and the one who initially proposed the three-step strategy of “orbiting， landing， and returning.”

Racing against time is not easy. Many difficulties were unexpected. Mr. Lu Yuanjiu fell from his bed the day before our interview， and fortunately， he only had some bruising around his eyes. We visited him only after he recovered. On that day， Mr. Lu wore glasses， and the camera couldn’t capture any signs of injury. But sitting beside him， I immediately noticed the scar on his nose.

On the morning of the interview with Chang Shana， just as we arrived downstairs， we received a call from her son， Mr. Cui， who apologized and canceled the interview. The reason was that Ms. Chang woke up with a sudden headache and needed more rest. I looked at the ivy climbing freely on the old walls of the residential compound in front of me and felt a pang of envy. If only I could greet Ms. Chang from outside her window， at least I could bring her the Eustoma flowers I had specially bought， perhaps offering a bit of comfort to the flower-loving Ms. Chang. Later， I learned that her headache that day was due to an ear infection that required surgical cleaning. Over a month later， we finally had the opportunity to visit again.

Three years have passed， and we have experienced countless moments of waiting. Gradually， we discovered the beauty of waiting， because every wait was worth it.

I often recall the story Chang Shana told while flipping through old photo albums — a memory even her son had never heard. In one photo， she is holding a little black girl. During the Korean War， while studying in the United States， Chang Shana was eager to return to her homeland. To save money for a ship ticket， she worked at a children’s charity summer camp， taking care of the children there. One day， a white girl pointed to a black girl beside her and asked， “Shana， why is she so black?” After thinking for a moment， Chang Shana used colors from nature to explain: “Just like the butterflies in the forest， there are black butterflies， yellow butterflies， and white butterflies. You see， we are the same — you are white， she is black， and I am yellow.” That year， Chang Shana had just turned 19.

In every moment of memory， encountering their youth， I always see a rushing river — that is their souls singing.

A tree grows tall because of its roots， and a river flows far because of its source. Lifelong dedication is never just about one person; behind an individual is the support of a family. When every family member is closely connected through their dedication， the love of that family takes root. This root is a deep sense of commitment.

“What， after all， is the meaning of life?”

On the shores of Gulangyu， I asked Zheng Xiaoying. Leaning on her cane， she walked with strength. She said， “I never imagined I would come to Xiamen to start another orchestra — so many challenges， so much joy and hardship. I also didn’t expect Xiamen to be so beautiful， with this sea， this sky， and these banyan trees full of vitality.” The meaning of life lies in the pursuit of meaning. “Banyan trees must root deeply. The sea， on the other hand， can break through anything.” Recording these moments is also part of the pursuit of My Family， My Country.