Liang Xiaosheng is the pioneer of educated youth literature and also one of the core writers of contemporary Chinese literature.
——Meng Fanhua, Literary Critic

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

Writers fall into two categories: one serves society, and the other serves the soul. The knowledge developed from the soul nourishes society, or the knowledge derived from society permeates the soul. Liang Xiaosheng has the distinct characteristics of his generation of writers, being both diligent and compassionate. Under the combined influence of society and the soul, he speaks for us, which deserves our special thanks. I am moved by his common sense and knowledge.
——Hu Jiujiu, Chief Writer of New Weekly

The Mama Plump in "The Cushion", the Yan Xuedong in "Whirling Flight", the Auntie Chen in "Longing Memories" — Liang Xiaosheng’s nuanced portrayals of female resilience and perseverance leave a deep impression. Meanwhile, characters like Yan Qingshan in "Stag Hunt" and the two pairs of fathers and sons in "Transit Station" and "The Unexpected Guest" embody the moral backbone and magnanimity of his male protagonists. Truly touching.
—Reader Kerrysun

★Acclaimed by People's Daily and professors from Peking University and Renmin University — "A tribute to the beauty of the human spirit in adversity!"
★A curated selection of short stories by Liang Xiaosheng, winner of the 10th Mao Dun Literature Prize and original author of the TV series "A Lifelong Journey".
★Rich in themes — from schoolyard bonds and family ties to romantic love — this collection moves readers with its unpretentious sincerity. Through delicate, warm prose and vivid storytelling, it reveals the enduring kindness of ordinary lives, letting readers discover genuine emotion blossoming in the mundane.

"Longing Memories" traces the intersecting lives of two families, centering on two mothers supporting each other through desperate times. On one side, a grass-roofed home crushed by a collapsed chimney; on the other, a widowed mother in abject poverty. With no alternatives, the narrator’s mother moves her children into the home of the warmly insistent Auntie Chen. To survive, Auntie Chen takes on grueling foundry work, starts a small workshop, and gives the narrator a lesson of honesty with ration coupons. Her lifelong experience inspires the narrator's hope for himself and his future generations to inherit her resilience. This story sculpts indelible portraits of poor yet infinitely generous women, radiating boundless admiration and nostalgia.

The books also includes acclaimed stories such as "Classmate", "Life Springs Anew", and "The Eyes of the Poplar".

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".

Classmate  | 001
Courage  | 016
The Cushion  | 045
Whirling Flight  | 063
Transit Station  | 094
Life Springs Anew  | 102
Longing Memories  | 118
Thank You, Young Lady  | 134
The Girl in Uniform  | 143
The Eyes of the Poplar  | 162
Memories of the Night Watchman’s Clapper  | 175
Stag Hunt  | 205
The Old "Flower" Seller  | 227
The Unexpected Guest  | 232

Until the day the admission letter arrived, he had no idea that it would be him — not me — who would go to university.
Of course, he tried to explain, but I refused to listen. He tore up the letter, only for the political instructor to painstakingly piece it back together, stamping it with the company seal to prove it hadn’t been intentionally destroyed... Days later, three fellow educated youths — half escorts, half guards — sent him off on a horse-drawn cart. The educated youths gathered outside of the two dormitories, silently watching him seated on the cart. Not a single person stepped forward to shake his hand or offer a word of farewell. If this could even be called a send-off — well, even if it was, the bitterness in their hearts far outweighed any genuine parting sentiment. Humans are truly peculiar creatures. During the recommendation process, when voted, it had all seemed like a test of their own fairness — everyone eager to prove their impartiality. But now, watching the person they’d endorsed step into good fortune, their jealousy was indescribable.
He could feel it — the palpable envy in their silent stares. He looked helpless, lost, as if he’d stolen something from each of them. He, too, gazed back at them in silent bewilderment, unsure how to reach out first — his entire face shrouded in a quiet, aching guilt. His gaze swept the crowd, searching. I knew he was looking for me. But I never left the dorm. I hid by the window, watching him covertly, my jealousy ten times fiercer than anyone else’s...
As the cart lurched forward, several females burst into loud sobs, soon joined by a few male counterparts.
Still, no one approached him. No handshake, no farewell. Had it been me on that cart, those wails would have filled me with rage — I can’t imagine what he felt. The cart rolled away, trailed by that chorus of weeping.
Only one man shouted after him, "Yang Wenlin, you’d better not flip that cart and tumble into a ravine!"
Not long after, I received a letter from him at the institute. He wrote as if nothing had happened between us — no grudge to nurse, no misunderstanding to clarify. He made no mention of rallying others to recommend me. Instead, he described his new academic life in vivid detail. Naive by nature, it never occurred to him how deeply this would stoke my envy.
One passage remains etched in my memory:
"I’ll never forget how you gave me this chance to attend university. I swear to you, I’ll study twice as hard. I’ll become China’s second Li Siguang!"
Those words infuriated me. So you’ll be Li Siguang, while I’m still here ‘repairing the earth’? That chance once waved at me too...
I read his letter aloud in the dorm, igniting a collective flare of jealousy. Spurred by resentment, everyone began viciously mocking him — as if only now, after recommending him, had they realized he was a scoundrel. They lamented having ever given him this opportunity.
Hearing their insults restored some balance to my mind. I tore his letter to pieces before them all and tossed it into the stove...
That night, his letter left the entire room sleepless. They competed to expose his "misdeeds", dissecting his character, launching moral condemnations. By dawn, we’d sentenced his integrity to death twelve times over. Through tacit agreement, we twisted one truth beyond recognition: As our platoon leader, he had cared for each of us. Protected us. Been sincere. Been kind.