Preface
This is a record and reflection of my life from 2023-02-21 to 2023-02-26.
This week was relatively routine in terms of work, with no particularly urgent tasks. Despite being in a somewhat tense state due to personal matters, I felt less anxious and depressed. Perhaps there was a sense that everything was on the right track.
Two weeks ago, Jingru suddenly messaged asking if I could come to Wuhan on the weekend of the 23rd-25th, as she and Qu would both be there. The thought of seeing each other again led to another spontaneous “trip” without much hesitation. I returned to the school and college, meeting some old teachers and friends. Due to the lost three years of the pandemic, it now seems that when I recall the last time I met some friends, it’s been a bewildering three or four years.
This time in Wuhan, I only spent Friday and Saturday, a short time, yet it was my first purely leisure trip in two years. There was a peculiar feeling, as if I was once again sensing the flow of life and my own emotions, while also reflecting on my own changes from another perspective.
Wuhan
In June 2015, as I filled out my college application, I flipped through a small booklet issued by the school, which contained introductions to all universities and their historical admission scores. I somewhat hastily chose the city where I would spend the next few years. It didn’t take long to decide on Wuhan, probably partly due to my longing for the humanistic atmosphere of Wuhan University (I fell short on scores, so I chose a school with two more characters in its name), which in turn gave the city a unique appeal.
Although I feel somewhat ashamed that I didn’t put much effort into my studies and don’t have any particularly memorable achievements, the time I spent in Wuhan has unconsciously become a very important part of my life. When I graduated, since most people around me had also left Wuhan for various places, I once thought that even if I had no more connection with this city in the future, it wouldn’t matter much. What’s important are the memories and relationships.
But on this return to Wuhan, from getting off at Wuhan Station, to changing subway lines and passing through familiar station names, to that street I had walked thousands of times and the college classrooms, I realized that this city and everything in it had already been etched into my life. I felt a long-lost sense of “return”.
Perhaps it’s not quite a sense of belonging. From the moment I arrived in this city alone, dragging my suitcase, I knew I was just a temporary resident here. I didn’t even have many expectations for this city, and when I left, what saddened me was only the parting from these familiar people. But soon after, the pandemic broke out. Lockdowns, makeshift hospitals, and many heartbreaking news even happened to people I knew, and the city seemed to gradually be covered in a layer of gray.
At that time, I was in Hangzhou, watching the flood of negative news online, as well as more insults and implicit discrimination against Wuhan. I felt a real sense of heartache and helplessness. A city that was once full of so many colors was now being presented to everyone in this way. There are so many things worth mentioning about Wuhan: the “early breakfast” culture of Liangdao Street, hot dry noodles and Zhou Heiya, the imposing Wuhan dialect, the hot-tempered yet straightforward Wuhan bus drivers (although I was nearly thrown from the back to the middle by one sudden brake), the Yangtze River Bridge that legend says will lead to lifelong companionship if you walk across it together (I’ve walked it a few times, it’s quite windy and good exercise, but not much else), the prosperity of Jianghan Road and the leisurely moments by the river, the bustle of Optics Valley and its puzzling traffic conditions. There are many interesting points or things to joke about, and I would tell friends that this city is worth experiencing for themselves, multifaceted and uniquely charming. But because of this pandemic, Wuhan seems to have gradually lost this sense of mystery, and even left some people with fixed impressions, which makes me feel quite complex.
Wuhan will not become my second home, but it will always be a resting place on my journey home. When I’m tired, perhaps I’ll go back to see it and pick up my life again.
Long-Awaited Reunions and Flowing Emotions
In a previous article, “Weekly Review #09 - Colorless Yu and His Year of Pilgrimage”, I mentioned a group of people:
People always seem to have a tendency to form groups at various stages, and once dependent on a group, one inevitably suffers from the pressure and frustration of relationships. In college, I had such a group of four, two boys and two girls, always inseparable. When the counselor or classmates found someone missing, they would naturally ask the others.
But after a while, I felt obvious pressure. The other three seemed to be more prominent figures, always the ones shining in the crowd, while I always seemed to lack presence. Internally, I didn’t want to be the redundant one who was there out of habit. So I started to deliberately avoid and escape, of course, my clumsy performance couldn’t hide it, and it was quickly noticed.
I was luckier than Tsukuru Tazaki in that I wasn’t abandoned, nor were there any misunderstandings. The other three cornered me at the boys’ dormitory one night and made me speak out my concerns, addressing them one by one. I might still feel that the responses about personality and presence were just comfort, but I felt that I was needed in this relationship and pattern, that my emotions were taken seriously by them, that our relationship was cherished. Even though we later had few opportunities to act together due to cities and many reasons, we still maintain good contact, and they are the first people we think of when we arrive in any member’s city.
These are the people I met in Wuhan this time.
I’ve always cherished this kind of natural and comfortable relationship, the kind where a simple “I miss you” can lead to a meeting. It doesn’t need much deliberate rhetoric or arrangement. Ni, Zhan, Xiaoyu and them are all like this, even though we haven’t been able to meet for three or four years due to the pandemic.
When I was in Hong Kong, I received a sudden video call one night, the three of them were gathering in Wuhan, and I took a remote group photo via WeChat video. This time, I was finally able to be there in person. Eating, drinking, wandering leisurely around the campus, talking about the past and present, everything was as before. The trip was hurried, I returned to Beijing on Sunday, hoping we can meet more often.
Apart from meeting, I seem to have discovered some changes in myself during this brief trip. I’m more willing to feel the things around me, more frequently delighted by some inconspicuous little things or even a song I happen to hear while walking down a certain road. Even though I’m currently surrounded by some anxiety-worthy things, my emotions seem to have gradually started flowing with the journey.
I hope to have more opportunities for travel in the future.
Interesting Things and Objects
Cyber Moving
Perhaps it’s due to some doubts about domestic internet companies and some services oriented towards China, over the past six months I’ve been gradually moving all the services I rely on overseas as much as possible. Although most are still centralized, at least there’s less concern about censorship and privacy protection.
During this week in Wuhan, I finally moved iCloud, which I relied on the most and was the most troublesome to move, from Guizhou Cloud to the Hong Kong region. It went through quite a few twists and turns. I have to say that Apple’s account management and cloud service synchronization are really not good in this aspect.
Because my account has bought many software (including Final Cut Pro X and other suite products), I didn’t want to open a new account just for migration. Fortunately, Apple’s region change can retain purchased items, and all the Apps I bought in the China region are also available in the Hong Kong region, which is actually quite seamless in this respect.
But Apple’s family sharing is not so convenient. Previously, my account opened a Family and shared 200G iCloud with Ni and Zhan for common use, and also monitored my sister’s account (because she’s under 14). When I wanted to change regions, I needed to first transfer my sister’s account to another family, and wait for my subscribed Apple Music to expire (couldn’t even do it in advance, could only wait until the end of the current month’s subscription cycle, which is a bit ridiculous), then use Hong Kong region payment methods and various information to change the region, and then enable Hong Kong region family sharing iCloud.
Not only was the process somewhat troublesome, but when logging in to the account again, the iPhone also had a verification error. After checking a lot of information, they all said it could only be restored to factory settings, so I had to spend a night tinkering with the software. Fortunately, I had recorded it in the toolbox project before, but it was still painful to reset all permissions/applications. Fortunately, it was finally resolved. I feel this is something that had to be done sooner or later.
The other phone is OnePlus 7 Pro, which I bought several years ago. As soon as I got it, I tinkered with it and flashed the overseas version of Oxygen OS to use the Google suite. Maybe domestic manufacturers and some services have made me reach a point of mental cleanliness.
Input
Although most interesting inputs are automatically synchronized in the “Yu’s Life” Telegram channel, I’ll still select some to list here. It feels more like a newsletter.
Articles
Videos
Similarly, I’ve also recorded some interesting videos I’ve watched:
- Dialogue with RSS3 Founder Joshua: From ChatGPT, AI and Web3, Web3 Social, Open Web Concept to RSS3 Development Ideas【Rex Talk】
- Microsoft vs Google: AI War Explained | tech news
- We are a burnt-out generation, exploiting ourselves internally and isolating ourselves externally
Personal Life Snapshots
Because I was going to Wuhan, I sent Nini to my senior’s house for pet-sitting, so I didn’t take many photos myself. But because she seemed to be enjoying herself a bit too much there, I even took a photo of myself hugging another cat in a café in Wuhan to show her:
Then she was comfortably lying on the sofa in her new home, with a “Who Cares” look:
This ungrateful little cat.
Related Posts
