When I have some leisure time, I enjoy watching films and news, but even more often I find myself revisiting memories of things I have seen and experienced in the past. I recall that many years ago, a film titled Wolf Warrior left a deep impression on me. Why was that? Was it the exhilaration of seeing Chinese soldiers defeat foreign invaders? Or was it because of the line, “Whoever offends China will be punished, no matter how far away they are”? I think neither. Rather, it was the moment when the team captain was shot by an enemy sniper and used as bait to lure in his comrades—yet someone still chose, without hesitation, to go and rescue him. Although such an action may seem foolish on the surface, it reminded me of descriptions given by American veterans who had participated in the Korean War after they returned home, describing the Chinese People’s Volunteers.
In the Korean War, why was it that the moment the charge horn sounded, all the volunteer soldiers would rush toward the enemy without regard for their own lives? Was it because we were born with a lust for killing and finally found an outlet for violence? Or because they were ignorant of the enemy’s overwhelming firepower and foolishly ran to their deaths? Or perhaps because battlefield commanders were so cold and ruthless that they forced soldiers into such peril? No—none of these. Perhaps it was precisely because they knew how powerful the enemy was, and that even a few extra seconds closer to victory might mean the lives of more comrades beside them, that they charged forward so fearlessly. Or perhaps they feared that if this war were lost, the security of their homeland could no longer be guaranteed. Though they fought on foreign soil, this could not change the fundamental nature of the Chinese People’s Volunteers’ actions as a defensive counterattack against aggression by the U.S.-led coalition. As Chairman Mao once put it, “Strike one punch to prevent a hundred punches.” From this, one can see how profoundly the outcome of that war mattered to our nation.
It is often said that many American veterans who participated in overseas wars later suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. Yet why do we so rarely hear of similar conditions among Chinese soldiers? Is it because our soldiers are braver and therefore feel no fear? In Wolf Warrior, there is a scene in which a platoon leader, in order to complete the mission, endures immense pain as he kills a wounded comrade. Perhaps this alone shows that our soldiers are not without fear. What they fear is not the bombardment of planes and artillery, nor the relentless sweep of machine-gun fire, but the helplessness of watching comrades fall while being unable to save them—and even more, the fear that failing to complete the mission could lead to even greater losses. I have often imagined what it would have been like if I myself had walked onto the Korean battlefield. Perhaps wetting my pants in terror would have been the least of my failings, not to mention everything else. But if the volunteer soldiers of that time had failed to stop the advance of the U.S.-led forces, such fears might well have become reality for us all.
Of course, time cannot be reversed, and history cannot be changed. Yet only by looking back at history can we understand the boundaries between right and wrong, and thus avoid detours on the road ahead. Compared with Chinese soldiers, certain other countries’ militaries have illegally abducted foreign presidents and conducted armed demonstrations in the territorial waters of other nations, attempting to interfere in their internal affairs. It is difficult to believe that such actions could belong to any righteous force. I believe that if a person cannot maintain a basic moral bottom line, then no matter how strong their body or how invincible their combat power, they can never become someone worthy of respect and admiration. Jason Statham is an actor I greatly admire. Although he often portrays assassins, his films still consistently reflect the moral boundaries that human beings ought to uphold—protecting the weak and refraining from indiscriminate killing. That is why he earns public recognition. And that recognition is not only for Jason Statham himself, but also for the kind of beauty embodied in the values he portrays.
Many people may wonder how China has been able to grow to its current level in just a few decades. Is it because heaven has always favored us? Or because Chinese people are somehow inherently different? Here, I would like to introduce a Chinese television drama titled Those Who Feed the Nation. Perhaps through it, the answer will become clearer. The story depicts the efforts made by the Chinese people in the early years after the founding of the People’s Republic, particularly in the realm of food production. China is a country with a vast population, and ensuring that everyone has enough to eat became the government’s most urgent task. Yet no matter how anxious the government was, or how much effort it invested, policies still had to pass through layers of officials before reaching farmers, ultimately affecting their efficiency and motivation to grow crops. The story shows us that among local officials, there were indeed corrupt and incompetent ones—but at the same time, there were many more who steadfastly upheld their principles and refused to abandon even the slightest chance of success.
When the grain ripened and everyone was waiting for the harvesters to arrive, perhaps all it would take was a single, ill-timed downpour arranged by fate to shatter everyone’s dreams of a good harvest. But when despair spread, someone stepped forward and ground sprouted wheat into malted flour for sale, doing everything possible to recover farmers’ losses. When local residents panicked because there was no grain stored at home, it was again this person who firmly demanded that the granaries be opened and grain distributed. Though the cost was enormous, the spread of famine was ultimately stopped. Some might ask: weren’t these actions simply the bare minimum? Wouldn’t most responsible people act the same way? But in the eyes of some, certain matters cannot be calculated by probability. Because if everything were decided by probability, then people in northern China would probably still not have access to water from the south; people in the south would probably not be using natural gas from the west; and the Yangtze and Yellow Rivers would probably still flood from time to time. If probability were the deciding factor, most farmers would probably choose to grow higher-priced fruits and vegetables, as depicted in the drama, rather than staple crops. In that case, China might still, even today, be worrying about basic subsistence.
So what is it that has turned these seemingly unlikely things into reality? I believe there is only one word that can express it, and that word is “beauty.” If hunger breeds fear and despair, then growing grain naturally becomes farmers’ top priority. If shortages of water and gas cause anxiety, then projects such as the South-to-North Water Diversion and the West–East Gas Transmission cease to be optional. If floods displace countless people and destroy families, then the Three Gorges Dam and many other infrastructures gain an undeniable necessity. In my view, only the word “beauty” can describe this motivation. Today, moving from seeing beauty to recognizing beauty is relatively easy for us—perhaps all it takes is a television series, a film, a documentary, or a short video. What is truly difficult, however, is realizing beauty and creating beauty. Without a firm belief in the pursuit of beauty, countless forms of beauty might never come into existence. As the scope of beauty gradually expands, it is perhaps through the sincerity of innumerable Chinese people—each treating the beauty they see with genuine devotion—that China has become what it is today. And this, perhaps, is the most important reason why China now stands apart.
I recall that the writer Wei Wei once wrote an essay about the volunteer soldiers titled Who Are the Most Beloved People. Thinking about it now, perhaps “beloved” is not quite an adequate description. For the sake of a beautiful future for their homeland, they gave far too much. Though the smoke of battle has long since cleared, their devotion to beauty remains etched in our hearts and will be carried forward. China’s achievements today are not miracles. Beauty has made us different, and people, too, are made different by beauty. Our attitude toward beauty is not our exclusive privilege—people of any nation can possess it, and indeed ought to possess it. For human beings live because of beauty, and should live to realize and create beauty. In the end, people will take pride in beauty and come to understand that human greatness lies hidden within those countless forms of beauty. This is the principle behind what I mean by “humanity is made great by beauty,” and on this road toward beauty, I sincerely hope for your participation.
caption: Convoy of Hope Safeguarding Food Security
Author: Zheng Wei (a Chinese citizen)
February 2, 2026
