Life Unfolds Softly, Life Moves Slowly
一碗荔枝米酒酿下肚，又和大家聊聊人生的30岁的心态。
A bowl of fermented rice wine with lychee goes down, and once again I find myself sharing with you the state of mind at thirty.
25、27、28、29，每个阶段的心态都不一样。只是一岁的差别，对我来说却有天壤之别。尤其是27到29岁，发生了质的变化。
At 25, 27, 28, 29—every stage brings a different state of mind. A single year’s difference may seem small, but to me it feels like night and day. Especially between 27 and 29—something fundamental shifts.
25、26岁，我更愿意称之为探索与积淀。从大学的象牙塔出来没几年，对世界还有些新鲜、好奇和懵懂。会去触摸以前够不到的事情，有很多精力去学习和尝试。那一年，我大胆地贷款几万块去读书。
At 25 and 26, I prefer to call it a time of exploration and grounding. Having just stepped out of the ivory tower of university not long before, I still carried a sense of novelty, curiosity, and youthful innocence toward the world. I reached for things I had never been able to touch before, brimming with energy and a desire to learn and try. That year, I boldly took out tens of thousands of yuan in loans to go back to school.
27岁，对世界和人的认识初具雏形。看过奇奇怪怪的事，经历过奇奇怪怪的人，也见过凄凄惨惨的境遇——才知道人生活下去，并不容易。
At 27, my understanding of the world and of people began to take shape. I had seen strange things, met strange people, and witnessed moments of real hardship—only then did I realize how hard it is to keep living.
27岁，也是伤害与成长并行的年份。遇到过很多献殷勤的男孩子，他们戴着一副特别友善的面具，文质彬彬朝你走来。可面具背后，揣着精致利己，甚至是大男子主义。那一年，我经历了三个月的抑郁状态。常有朋友问我：“为什么你老是不开心的样子？”27岁的铠甲不够坚硬，还没法好好保护自己，抵御外界的恶意。
At 27, harm and growth walked hand in hand. I met many eager young suitors—they wore masks of extraordinary friendliness, approaching with polished charm and grace. But behind those masks lay subtle selfishness, even outright chauvinism. That year, I spent three months in a state of depression. Friends often asked me, “Why do you always look so unhappy?” At 27, my armor wasn’t strong enough yet to protect myself from the cruelty of the world.
28岁，我叫它真正意义上的长大。认清了所有真相后，依然做自己的英雄。摸摸身上的铠甲——终于变硬了。对于不喜欢的、不合理的要求，或者不友善的评论，不再内耗自己，而是冷静而清晰地去反驳那个让我不舒服的人，不再一味沉默或默许。
At 28, I call it coming of age in the truest sense. After seeing the truth for what it was, I chose to be my own hero nonetheless. I touched the armor around me—finally, it had hardened. For things I disliked, unreasonable demands, or unkind remarks, I stopped exhausting myself over them. Instead, I responded calmly and clearly to those who made me uncomfortable. No more silent endurance.
29岁，就是现在。我更懂得，年龄从来不是定义自己的唯一枷锁。29岁听到的声音分成两派：一派是家人的反对——“年纪大了还不结婚，不好嫁人”；另一派温和地说：“29岁并不晚。”而我像一个旁观者，你讲你的，我过我的人生。
At 29—the present moment. I have come to understand that age is never the only cage that defines a person. The voices I hear at 29 fall into two camps: on one side, family urging me to settle down— “you’re getting older and still not married, it’ll be hard to find someone”; on the other side, gentler voices telling me, “29 is not too late.” And I stand like an observer: you say what you have to say. I live my life as I see fit.
临近30岁，心里保有一种淡淡的、定定的新鲜感。对别人的话，怀着一份独属于我的、小小的傲慢——那种“不合群也没关系”的笃定。别人苦口婆心证明你是错的，你依然可以淡定地说：“对呀，我是错的，但我完全有能力承受我的错误人生。”的确，自己最难的时候，也没有手心向上。
As I approach 30, there’s a quiet, steady freshness in my heart. I carry a small, quiet pride that belongs only to me—a certainty that it’s okay not to fit in. When someone tries hard to convince me I’m wrong, I can still say calmly, “Yes, I’m wrong. And I am fully capable of bearing the consequences of my imperfect life.” Indeed, even in the hardest moments, I never turned to anyone with my palms open, begging for help.
我问过一个零零后的小师弟，23岁的你为什么不找女朋友？他说，不想找，女朋友会失去自由，现在这样挺好的。零零后的恋爱观似乎很清醒，每个阶段该做什么事，心里有自己的规划。
I once asked a younger classmate from the post-millennial generation: why don’t you have a girlfriend at 23? He said he didn’t want one—it would cost him his freedom. He felt just fine the way he was. The post-millennials, it seems, have a remarkably clear-headed view of love and relationships. Each stage of life brings its own priorities, and they know exactly what they want for themselves.
30岁的我，好像没有太多精力去好奇、八卦别人的人生了。也许是在医院工作的经历，让我听到了太多别人的故事。我渐渐明白：如果悲惨的事情发生在我身上，也唯有自己自渡，走出来。守住自己的一份净土，本质上，自己就是自己的英雄。
At 30, I no longer have much energy left for idle curiosity or gossip about other people’s lives. Perhaps it’s my experience working in a hospital that has exposed me to too many other people’s stories. I’ve come to realize this: if tragedy ever strikes my own life, the only one who can pull me through is myself. Guarding that small sanctuary of peace in my heart—in the end, I am my own hero.
今天晚上看《长安荔枝》，里面有句话让我触动：“就算失败，我也要知道自己倒在距离终点多远的地方。” 即使身临绝境，退无可退，何不向前拼死一搏？说不定还能搏出一点微妙的希望。
Tonight I watched a scene from a drama called The Litchi Road, and one line struck me deeply: “Even if I fail, I want to know how far I fell from the finish line.” Even at the edge of desperation, with no retreat in sight—why not throw yourself forward into one last fight? Who knows—maybe you’ll squeeze out just a glimmer of hope after all.
心中还有梦，眼里就还有光。一步一步走，总会靠近终点。
As long as dreams still live in your heart, there’s still light in your eyes. Walk forward, step by step. You will reach your destination in time.
人生款款，人生不紧不慢。看沿途风景，足够了。
Life unfolds softly, life moves slowly. Just take in the scenery along the way. That is more than enough.
