Liang Xiaosheng's tributes to hardship are ultimately celebrations of truth, goodness, and beauty — for even his most beleaguered characters possess no petty or vile souls.
——Gao Yuanbao, Literary critic, Professor of Fudan University

From the educated youth literature at the beginning of the new period to the market criticism in the post-new period, Liang Xiaosheng's contemporaries have all turned to other themes. Only Liang Xiaosheng, with his pen as a banner, remains steadfast, shouting, holding his ground, charging forward, and moving ahead without hesitation.
——Chen Xiaoming, Literary Critic, Professor of Peking University

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

Though the settings feel distant, these stories capture humanity's purest bonds: romantic love, friendship, family ties, even connections between humans/animals/nature. Liang renders them with such authenticity that, despite life's reminders of human imperfection, I yearn to believe these are true accounts — wishing their real protagonists dwelled in such spiritually rich worlds.
—Reader Xiaofengzi

★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".
★This collection features Liang's quintessential educated youth fiction. These stories transcend the suffering of that extraordinary era, portraying how people persevered with optimism, courage, kindness, and selflessness amid hardship. The emotions depicted carry timeless resonance — transcending age, experience, and geography to echo in readers' hearts.
★Defying life's misfortunes with love against numbness and nihilism.
Tearing open historical fissures to reveal humanity's luster in adversity.
Discovering flashes of human dignity in the fog of history and reaffirming the forgotten values of life in literature.

This anthology by Mao Dun laureate Liang Xiaosheng includes signature works like "When Heaven Feels", "The Birch Forest Bears Witness", "Records of the Great Northern Wilderness", and "Deer Whistle".
Liang's writing reveals love's manifold forms — romantic, familial, communal. Here, lonely souls find redemption; the impoverished support each other; strangers extend genuine kindness; youth is devoted to the nation. Not all youthful passion meets fulfillment, yet such regrets etch memories deeper.

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".

When Heaven Feels | 001
Performance Review | 027
In City A | 035
The Bicycle Watcher | 053
First Lesson in Appreciating Literature | 065
Records of the Great Northern Wilderness | 080
Border Village Chronicles | 101
The Birch Forest Bears Witness | 130
The Wilderness Bears Witness | 154
Overnight at "Frog Lake" | 192
Deer Whistle | 216
Ayijilun | 229

He smiled and said, "This is a special archive I've created. In the three years since coming here, I've delivered seventeen babies across eight or nine villages in this region. I know you young 'educated youths' have whispered about me — wondering why someone like me could be so content in such a remote, backward place. These seventeen births are my reason for joy and pride! Humans exist within all material things yet stand above them all. Of all words, 'person' is the most sacred..."
His eyes sparkled with growing fervor.
"A fetus and its mother are two complete yet inseparable lives. Physicists take pride in splitting atoms, but my pride comes from helping a whole life — a person — enter this world. This child will someday seek purpose, love, endure hardships and joys, make both extraordinary and ordinary contributions. What I accomplish is the differentiation of life. A magnificent process! Every birth feels to me like a poem, a song, a symphony! Who dares say my hands won't have delivered future scientists, statesmen, or artists? Whenever I hear a newborn's first cry, I want to lift that tiny human and shout: 'Long live life!'..."
I was enchanted — less by his words than by him. In that moment, I yearned to embrace and kiss him wildly. He seemed both a child — far younger in years yet pure in thought — and an ancient sage, profound beyond measure. A romantic poet and a devout worshiper of life.
Abruptly, he stopped, suddenly self-conscious. "You must think me ridiculous."
"No! Not at all. What you said was... beautiful. Truly."
"Thank you," he murmured, retreating to the window but keeping his gaze on me.
For reasons unclear, I fought tears. Afraid I'd weep openly, I stood and whispered, "I should go", hurrying out with my head down.
"Wait!" His voice halted me.
I turned reluctantly. His earlier excitement had settled into solemnity.
"I entrust these seventeen children to you. Perhaps I hold greater hopes for them than their own parents — who may only wish them to farm or fish. I want more. Teachers are engineers of souls. I bring natural life into this world; you must give them culture, knowledge, civilization. This land will change through them. Wherever I go, I'll carry them in my heart. Someday I'll return to trace their paths, to tell them, 'On such a day, I...'" His voice broke. The calm tone couldn't mask his emotion.
I said, "I'll remember. I won't fail you. Unless... unless war comes..."
He stiffened momentarily, echoing softly, "Yes... unless war comes..."
Outside, the northwest wind's howl sharpened into a scream — like beating wings, snarling dogs, a drunkard's laugh — before seizing those dreadful sounds and hurling them into the void.
I could no longer meet his eyes, bear his words, or stay in that cabin with my composure intact. I—
I spun and fled into the night.
Dawn found me sleepless, tossing in bed. Never had I felt such loneliness, its crushing weight pressing my spirit into corners.
He would soon leave this village...