Memories in China

He has been travelling around Beijing, and there is not a single place, no matter how remote, how dilapidated, that he would not go to. Once an anti-confucianist, he now would enjoy sitting under an ancient cedar in Confucius’ Temple, watching tolerantly the kids playing around him, occasionally having a look at the barbed wire above the wall or answering some passers-by’s accosting in their broken English. His heart lingers on the untouched parts inside the temple. He seems to have found his harbor.