Chapter 634: What is the meaning of life? Mr. Dong's last sermon

The island was hiring, primarily women. Unexpectedly, the three-year epidemic had left many people unemployed. Upon hearing about the job opening, applicants flocked to the scene.

The seats were filled in three days.

Next came training. The hotel sent people there to provide business training to the new hotel staff on the island. The public relations and key account departments also sent people there to provide public etiquette training for all staff.

I'm responsible for cultural training and creative implementation training, which will be held after the Lunar New Year.

So before the Lunar New Year, I was very relaxed. No need to wear a mask, because there were so many activities inviting me to participate.

I generally agree to all of them. For example, I visited Brother Yu's health and wellness center twice and offered many suggestions. Brother Yu plans to open it in May of next year.

For example, when Tian Dehan was planning the first Dongli Bamboo Village Cultural Festival, he invited me to meet with him many times to co-plan it, and I gave him a lot of ideas.

On the morning of December 27, the fifth year of Shangzhou, I went to 1701 to review the "Daughter Island Salary Grade Classification Report" sent by Qing Ruo. I had just read a few lines when I received a call from Siyu.

Her voice was urgent: "Teacher Wan, Mr. Dong is missing."

I said, "Don't be impatient. Speak slowly and explain the whole story clearly."

She spoke for half an hour, speaking incoherently and repeating herself a lot, but to sum it up:

Two days ago, she went to ask Mr. Dong to have dinner, but he wasn't in the room. She didn't pay much attention. She thought he had gone to hang out with Ling Yun's friends who were studying the Book of Changes.

When he didn't come back that night, she called Ling Yun, who advised her not to be anxious and to ask other people first.

Half an hour later, Ling Yun called. Teacher Zhang, Doctor Wang... everyone who knew Mr. Dong said they had not seen Mr. Dong.

Everyone comforted her and told her not to worry, saying that Mr. Dong came and went without a trace and might just be going out for a few days.

Siyu called Mr. Dong again and again, but his phone was always turned off.

After listening to him, I said, "I once gave him some money. Did he give you some?

Siyu said: "Yes, it was a month ago. He gave me 1 million RMB. I was surprised at first and asked him where he got so much money. He said it was from you."

I said, "How about this? Go to his room and clean it out first. If he took all his books with him, it means he really went somewhere else, like back to Zhongnan Mountain, or to a Taoist temple."

If he didn't take his books with him, he probably wanted to find a place nearby to retreat. Check carefully to see if he left you any messages."

Siyu listened and said, "Okay, I'll talk to you later."

After hanging up the phone, I sat there, took out a cigarette, lit it with a flicker of the flame, and slowly smoked, slowly analyzing it.

He gave Siyu 1 million, proving that he didn't want Siyu to take care of his retirement and his funeral. So where did he go?

All I know is that he is from Fujian, and I have heard him talk about his family background in bits and pieces, but he never told me which city, county, township or village he was from in Fujian.

Perhaps friends in the research group such as Ling Yun, Teacher Zhang, and Doctor Wang know more about his situation.

I called Ling Yun, exchanged a few pleasantries, and then asked about Mr. Dong's situation.

Ling Yun said, "My colleagues at the research institute know nothing about him either. He comes and goes without a trace, and usually, we only study together. We hardly ever talk about mundane matters."

While on the phone, I heard the sound of an incoming call.

I said a few words to Lingyun, hung up, and called back immediately.

Siyu said, "After looking through it, his books and notebooks and other things were gone. He left a note."

"You take the note and read it."

Siyu said, "Xiaoyu, I'm leaving now. We won't contact each other anymore. Thank you for taking care of me. If anyone asks, just say I'm traveling around the world."

After listening to him, I said, "Siyu, Mr. Dong is not an ordinary person like us. He doesn't have so many worldly emotions and concerns. Just think of him as a wandering wanderer. Maybe one day he will come back."

Siyu was sobbing over there.

I advised, "I know you have a kind heart and regard Mr. Dong as a father figure, with a deep father-daughter relationship between you. However, he has his own pursuits that ordinary people cannot understand.

Now that the lockdown has been lifted and tourism is booming, you should run your shop well. Wait, maybe one day, he will surprise you."

After some consolation, Siyu finally calmed down.

After the call, I sat there in a daze. Did Mr. Dong go back to his hometown, or to a Taoist temple?

unknown.

I tried to call him, but got a cold reply: The number you dialed is turned off.

At this time, the floor attendant came in and said, "Mr. Wan, you are here."

I nodded.

She said, "The main station received a letter a few days ago and asked us to bring it up to you. I'm afraid you haven't been here for a week."

A letter? My heart started pounding. These days, I hardly ever receive letters. This must be from Mr. Dong.

"Go get it quickly."

The waiter went to the duty room and came back after a while.

It was indeed a letter from Mr. Dong. It read: To Wanshanhong of Shangzhou Rising Sun Group, signed by Dong of Dali Xizhou.

I didn't tear it open right away. The waiter was about to make me some tea. I waved my hand and said, "I can do it myself. Go ahead and do your thing."

After the waiter left, I closed the door. Before I even opened it, I felt like there was a chance, because it felt very thick.

I pulled it out and found it contained six pages. I eagerly began to read.

Read it once and read it again.

Mr. Dong told me his life story in the letter, saying that everything he had told me before was false. He was not from Fujian and did not know who his biological parents were. He was adopted by a Taoist priest when he was young.

He had been studying Taoism since he was a child. After his adoptive father died, he traveled extensively. Later, he met me and formed a bond with me.

Now, he felt that his health was failing, so he decided to return to his adoptive father's hometown. There was a small Taoist temple there, and the villagers were kind to him. He wanted to go back and spend his old age in peace.

He had some money, which he would share with those in the village who were destined to him, so that they could take care of his funeral. As for where he was, I didn't need to ask, and I didn't need to look for him.

He told me in the letter that 150 years after an ordinary person dies, no one will remember him.

At first, his son would remember him, as would his acquaintances of the next generation. But when the son died and his peers died, only his grandchildren would remember him.

When the grandchildren die, the great-grandchildren may not even remember the names of their ancestors.

History and future generations will not remember whether an ordinary person has ever been in this world. There is no trace left.

Just like the trees on the mountain, the grass by the roadside, they are born and die, and die and are born again, cycle after cycle. Spring, summer, autumn, winter, year after year. Time and space are eternal, but ordinary people leave no trace.

He concluded his letter by writing:

“Then it doesn’t matter whether you’ve been to this world or not, because countless people have been to this world without leaving any trace.

How many emperors and generals can you remember from five thousand years of history? For example, how many emperors were there in the Southern Song Dynasty, what were their names, and how many monarchs were there in the Ming Dynasty? It's hard for anyone who isn't a dedicated historian to remember.

In this vast universe, we are all just dust. So, what is the meaning of life?

The meaning of life is this: if you don't have the ability, live as happily as possible. If you have the ability, help your fellow human beings. This is the true way.

How much you can help is the power of the Tao. Passing on the Tao is the spread of the Tao.

Don't come looking for me. What's the point of finding me? 150 years from now, no one will know whether you and I have ever been in this world.

You can save this time to help others, practice the true Dao, study Daoism, strengthen Dao power, pass on the spirit of Dao to others, and promote Dao righteousness.

This letter is short, yet my feelings are profound. I have so much to say to you that I cannot list them all. Please make a few copies of this letter and forward them to Siyu, who will distribute them to fellow Taoists in Dali.

The name below is just one word: Dong.

I read this letter without shedding a tear. It transcends the mundane realm. It represents Mr. Dong's lifelong awakening, his sole explanation for the meaning of life.

Yes, 150 years from now, who will still remember Mr. Dong? Did Wan Shanhong ever even exist? The meaning of life—if you don't have the ability, live happily and see the world. If you have the ability, try to help others.

I kept the letter, it is a life motto that I will treasure forever.

Keep it to myself and pass it on to like-minded people.

I called Lao Xiao and told him to meet up at Shi Yu's place at noon. I'd also like to invite Shi Ge along.

Lao Xiao joked, "Made a lot of money again?"

I said, "I want to preach to you."