Lamplight on a Dusty Road

He burned himself out to light the way for millions. And she caught that light. At forty-one, Chen Yan had come from a small town in Yan-Zhao, where kerosene lamps lit the night, to become a top-tier star in the college admissions counseling industry in just ten years. He had seen too many children from ordinary families take the wrong path because they lacked information, so he pushed himself to be the one who lit their way. But the tidal wave of the traffic-driven era swept him along at a relentless pace. On livestreams, he joked, “Maybe one day I'll just drop dead at the podium.” Everyone took it as a joke, until one ordinary afternoon, when he really did collapse. Wen Qing was the least noticeable content editor at Tuzhi Education. In her three years there, she had always watched that light from afar, afraid to approach or disturb it. She didn't even feel she had the right to openly grieve. After Chen Yan was gone, investors pulled out, competitors closed in, and employees drifted away. Tuzhi was on the brink of collapse. Everyone said it was time to give up, but Wen Qing stayed. She opened Chen Yan's unfinished manuscript and saw a line of trembling handwriting in his notebook: “The light must keep shining, but don't burn too fast.” At last, she understood. He had known his health was failing, but there were so many people behind him waiting for him to show them the way. Like a moth flying into a flame, he knew he would burn out, yet chose to light the way. This is not a love story. It is a story of looking up to someone and carrying on their legacy, of burning out and taking up the torch. It is a story about how ordinary people can hold on to their original purpose in the age of online traffic. The road through the dust stretches on, and one person will burn out. But together, we can make a river of lights.