Despite vast changes since the 1990s, Liang Xiaosheng's impassioned voice remains uniquely powerful — his works continue to offer readers genuine intellectual fulfillment.
—Zhang Yiwu, Literary Critic

Liang traverses disparate eras as history's witness, kindness's advocate, justice's champion, and life's chronicler. His writing forges an indomitable force that transforms literature's union with truth, goodness, and beauty from ideal into reality.
—Chen Xiaoming, Peking University Professor

(Liang Xiaosheng) creates works aligned with our times yet probing society's conscience and the human soul. His literary responsibility and patriotic spirit establish him as this era's moral compass in artistic creation.
—People's Daily (Overseas Edition)

★Mao Dun Literature Prize winner Liang Xiaosheng deciphers the spiritual blueprint of Chinese culture and its people, revealing the evolution of national psychological DNA.
★A "field study" of contemporary social realities and a masterful observation of Chinese-style interpersonal dynamics. Drawing on decades of reflection, it probes social conscience, champions the marginalized, exposes human nature, and dissects cultural currents.
★Diagnosing societal ailments: Through lenses of individual vs. society, self vs. others, customs vs. relationships, and human nature vs. life, it dismantles national character across dimensions.
★Know China, understand society, elevate perspective: Decodes Chinese social relations, survival philosophies, and cultural attributes to navigate life's uncertainties.

Liang Xiaosheng's "Four Books on Chinese Humanities Observation" includes:
"An Analysis of Social Strata in China"
"The Character of Chinese Culture"
"The Humanity and Life of the Chinese People"
"The Chinese People: A Look at Daily Life"

This penetrating work by Mao Dun laureate Liang Xiaosheng examines the cultural psyche and national character of the Chinese people.

Anchored in present-day realities, Liang conducts microscopic observations — from cultural currents to alleyway interactions — delivering incisive yet compassionate critiques of the psychological landscape of modern Chinese, ordinary lives amidst societal upheavals and the role of culture and intellectuals. His blistering diagnoses of societal ills meet tender portraits of everyday struggles, coalescing into a "living anthropology" of Chinese social mores.

[Key Insights]
CULTURE
• State of Chinese humanistic culture
• Self-cultivation in the digital age
• "Envy-jealousy-hatred": Social psychology decoded
• Human-centric cultural refinement

SOCIETY
• Youth mentalities, living conditions & class divides
• Why Chinese education "reform" increases burdens
• "Giant infants" vs. ethical norms
• Legal principles or human feelings — which prevails?

LIVING
• Money machine or free soul? The commoner's dilemma
• Tight budgets: Is frugality or luxury healthier?
• The eternal tension: Mediocrity vs. exceptionalism
• Escaping marriage's "siege mentality"

LIFE
• Why are we so exhausted?
• The ultimate question: What gives life meaning?
• Sophisticated living requires subtraction
• Your best life is the one that fits you

Liang Xiaosheng

He was born in 1949 in Harbin with ancestral roots in Rongcheng, Shandong. He is a renowned contemporary Chinese writer and scholar. Currently, he serves as a senior professor at the School of Humanities of Beijing Language and Culture University, a member of the National Committee of the Chinese People's Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC), and a researcher at the Central Research Institute of Culture and History. To date, he has authored over ten million words of literary works, including essays, novels, commentaries, and documentary literature. His representative works include "Tonight There’s a Snowstorm", "The Rings of Time", and "Educated Youth". In 2019, he won the 10th Mao Dun Literature Prize for his novel "A Lifelong Journey".

Chapter 1: Steering by the Heart's Compass
• On Chinese-style "existentialism"
• Would you become a vampire?
• "Humble origins" vs. "noble heirs"
• Under the Apple Tree and "poverty-alleviation ads"
• The "vampire" strategy
• Millennial malaise: Easier to move mountains than eradicate servility
• Breeding "aristocrats" is simple
• When thwarted talent meets nouveaux riches
• Monkey metaphors
• The awkward truth about truth-telling
• Limits of retribution

Chapter 2: Our Kaleidoscopic Society
• The status of being ordinary
• Chinese parents and their children
• Class analysis of contemporary youth
• What's to be done with them?
• Condemnation isn't enough
• Where doctors stand
• Law vs. empathy
• One small street's GDP phenomenon
• The unsustainable ratings game
• Frugality as liberation

Chapter 3: Prescriptions for Living
• Why we're perpetually weary
• Life and its meanings
• Naked truths of existence
• Beauty lies in suitability
• The art of downsizing
• My life lessons
• On expectations
• Life advice — Liang responds to readers
• The risks of cunning
• Forget Zen — seek mutual understanding
• Bamboo must be hollow; people must stand straight

Chapter 4: Human-Centric Cultural Cultivation
• Culture's karmic reckoning
• Does Chinese culture need remedial lessons?
• What can save the world?
• Public sentiment vs. cultural awareness
• Do modern intellectuals still bear enlightenment duties?
• On "new knowledge elites" and their megaphones
• Ba Jin's legacy
• Meditations on Wen Yiduo
• Meditations on Lu Xun
• Poetry in education
• Becoming three-dimensional Chinese
• Embracing ideals to forge the future

Class analysis of contemporary youth
The "Second-Generation Rich" Who Never Worry About Money

Media reports indicate there are currently over 10,000 individuals in China with assets exceeding 200 million yuan. Their offspring, referred to as "second-generation heirs" in southern folk parlance, have become frequent topics of public discussion. People often delight in gossiping about them, while certain publications eagerly peddle stories of their lavish lifestyles, with undertones of envy permeating the coverage. In my view, these 10,000-odd individuals are statistically insignificant within China's population of 1.3 billion or its 400 million contemporary youth. Simply being heirs to family fortunes does not inherently make them worthy of special media attention. Therefore, reporting on them should adhere to this principle: if they commit socially harmful acts, condemn and criticize; if they contribute positively, commend and support. Otherwise, they might as well not exist. China has many groups far more deserving of attention — the media won't run out of material just because it stops covering what cars these heirs drive, what pets they keep, or how many relationships they've had.
The media serves as society's "compound eye". Its excessive focus on celebrities is already tiresome; if it further fixates needlessly on these "second-generation heirs", this "compound eye" itself has serious problems.
Due to the existence of these ultra-wealthy heirs, the definition of "second-generation rich" inevitably becomes muddled. Excluding them, the "second-generation rich" generally refers to young people from affluent families who can easily fulfill their desires — whether studying abroad, buying cars and property, or getting married. Their consumption habits lean toward high-end or even luxury goods. Like the heirs, they often own premium vehicles. Their family wealth consists of two parts: tangible assets (already substantial) and hidden assets (whose full extent even they and their parents may not know). One of my graduate students once sighed to me, "Professor, comparisons are deadly. Students like us will still struggle to afford housing in provincial capitals after graduation. But I know other university students whose parents bought them three-bedroom apartments in Beijing as soon as they started dating—each set of parents purchasing one. A luxury car awaits them upon marriage. No matter how high Beijing's prices soar, they're unaffected." Such individuals unquestionably belong to the "second-generation rich".
Another case I encountered: A girl studying abroad suddenly decided to pursue acting. Her mother brought her back to China, pulling strings until they met a film director. The mother declared, "Just give my daughter a minor role — we won't charge a fee and will even pay the production team several hundred thousand yuan." When the director pointed out her daughter lacked acting qualifications, the mother replied, "I must indulge her fantasy." That girl, too, undoubtedly fits the "second-generation rich" label.
For such "second-generation rich", the concept of financial constraint simply doesn't exist in their lives. Their parents — typically mid-sized private business owners, state-owned enterprise executives, or officials with real power — shield them from economic concerns. If the parents are officials, the full extent of hidden family wealth may remain unknown even to the children themselves. These youth enjoy their privilege while resentfully eyeing the even wealthier "second-generation heirs", often engaging in vulgar competitions to prove their own financial superiority.
Particular attention should be paid to those whose parents are state-owned enterprise executives or powerful officials. Many such parents represent the primary beneficiaries and staunchest defenders of flawed existing systems. They typically feel uneasy about — if not outright opposed to — promoting social democracy, fairness, and justice. When these "second-generation rich" reach middle age and gain influential voices, will they instinctively defend the interest groups they've always depended on? Or will they transcend those circles to advocate for social equity and conscience? Only time will tell. If we hope for the latter outcome, they must be exposed now to cultural influences emphasizing fairness and justice. Unfortunately, in China, such humanistic cultural impact remains negligible — not just for them, but for most youth. Thus, my outlook on the "second-generation rich" remains predominantly pessimistic. While admirable exceptions may emerge, they'll likely be few.
China's "second-generation rich" population probably exceeds 10-20 million — and that doesn't include children of ultra-successful entertainment figures whose wealth could last generations (though their numbers are too small to merit special discussion).
In any country, intellectual families invariably form a core component of the middle class, constituting 30-50% of it. China's situation was historically unique: before the 1980s, apart from a handful of senior intellectuals, most professors lived only slightly better than urban working-class families. Post-reform, their living standards improved dramatically, making them undeniable beneficiaries of the opening-up policy. Whether measured by housing or income, intellectual families now generally surpass salaried workers. Some are poised to join the middle class, while even the less fortunate among them exceed "moderately prosperous" standards.
However, the property market surge since 2009 has severely threatened middle-class stability, leaving many psychologically scarred with a palpable sense of defeat. Take my colleagues at the university for example, one exhausted 20-30 years of savings to help his son buy a 90-square-meter apartment — still leaving over a million yuan in mortgage debt. Another case: a married couple, both professors in their 50s with twenty-plus years of teaching experience and over a million yuan in savings, watched helplessly as skyrocketing prices outpaced their son's marriage plans. Their children — university graduates, some with master's or doctoral degrees — who should have been prime candidates to join the middle class, now see that possibility drastically diminished. While securing white-collar jobs isn't problematic, "white-collar" doesn't equate to middle-class status. True middle-class standing requires some tangible assets — at minimum, owning one's home. Even with dual monthly salaries of 10,000 yuan and partial parental support, purchasing a modest apartment still requires over a million yuan in loans. At a repayment rate of 100,000 yuan annually, this demands 10+ years. Factoring in the decade likely needed to reach 10,000-yuan monthly salaries, they'd approach fifty by the time they own a small apartment—barely achieving "moderate prosperity", not genuine middle-class status. Add childcare costs and potential elderly medical crises, and homeownership becomes increasingly distant.
Fortunately, as intellectuals' offspring, these youth can use their "educated background" as psychological armor against harsh socioeconomic realities. Their coping strategies include:
Present-Focused Living: Prioritizing current quality of life over long-term planning (often frustrating their parents).
Delayed Marriage: Many marry late or remain single, with some embracing outright bachelorhood.
Cultural Consumption: As primary urban cultural consumers, they demand high standards, often offering sharp critiques.
While some may remain materially modest, they're unlikely to descend into poverty or become disadvantaged "grassroots". Barred from material wealth, many instead cultivate cultural refinement — embodying both yuppie and intellectual aristocrat characteristics.
Every nation needs such cultural custodians. Without them, a country's culture becomes negligible. Even African tribal societies have their "cultural aristocrats" who cherish traditional arts.
Many of these youth will become guardians of China's future high-quality culture. This isn't to say such guardians can only emerge from their ranks — but that they're the most probable and numerous source.