Reporter's Notes | Two Encounters: Collecting a Moment of Quiet Strength
In June, I walked once again into the College of Computer Science at the National University of Defense Technology for an interview. Earlier this year, when I was writing a piece for the column "Forging a Centenary Army: New Faces, New Actions (攻坚建军百年·新样貌 新作为)," I had the opportunity to interview Professor Wang Ji for the first time. This was our second meeting, half a year later, with a whole spring in between. He had grown thinner — his round cheeks had sunken in somewhat, and he looked older. His short sleeves made the scars on his arms more visible, like a winding red river. But his eyes were the same as before: bright, carrying a smile. Professor Wang is truly someone who loves to smile; the layered creases at the corners of his eyes seem to harbor an optimistic wisdom.
In conversation, his sense of genius is not particularly heavy — he is like a kind, humorous elder who speaks at an unhurried pace, telling stories, sharing feelings, one thing at a time. But Professor Wang at work is sharp, direct, and brilliant. The first time I went to film him running a group meeting in winter, he rejected my request for an opening remark. He said, "We don't say things like that before our discussions," even though I had only shallowly hoped for something like "Now let's have a certain student begin." When filming started in earnest, Professor Wang ran the group meeting, firing questions one after another at the student presenting the paper, with no buffer.
But he was still smiling. Professor Wang never speaks of hardship — or rather, never speaks of his own hardship. "Everyone is like this; everyone works very hard, everyone feels a sense of urgency." His colleagues and his students all say the same. On the journey of a great undertaking (伟大事业), he and they are exhausted, will be exhausted — but they have never feared exhaustion. Those all-night lights, that invested toil: "it is all as it should be."
Professor Wang says that software is his battlefield. On the way to Tianhe Tower one day, on a sudden impulse, I added a line to my interview outline: "Professor Wang, has this battle been fought well?" Everyone else says it has been fought well — what does Professor Wang himself think? His answer I included in the written piece. There was actually a follow-up question, directed at his colleagues and students: "And do you think you have fought it well?" Mao Xiaoguang, a long-time colleague of Professor Wang's and a core member of the team, waved his hand and said: "Not bad, I suppose. Being able to play a useful role — for us, that is already very good." Liu Xingpeng, one of Wang Ji's doctoral students, said: "I have confidence that I can fight it as well as my teacher."
On the morning of the day Wang Ji was awarded the title "Model of the Era (时代楷模)" by the Central Propaganda Department, he held a meeting with his students from eight-thirty in the morning straight through to noon. For Professor Wang, this day seemed to remain an ordinary day. I thought of the words Professor Wang had inscribed on the title page of Battle Song from a Wheelchair (《轮椅上的战歌》) — the same words his mentor, Professor Chen Huowang, had once inscribed for him: "Indifference to fame clarifies one's aspirations; tranquility enables one to reach far (淡泊以明志，宁静以致远)."
Two follow-up interviews, full-process coverage — for me, this had long since ceased to be an ordinary work assignment. This encounter spanning half a year has been a quiet and precious form of growth.
The first thing I came to understand was pure love (纯粹的热爱). Professor Wang has led his team through decades of devoted work in the laboratory, rising early and retiring late, quietly cultivating. In a time of hurried rhythms and the demand for speed in all things, this steadfast commitment made without calculation of gain or loss is especially moving. I have finally come to truly understand that love is enough to withstand every hardship. In the work that lies ahead, I too am willing to hold onto this purity — to carefully polish every line of text, every frame of footage, and to approach every story with sincerity.
The second thing I gained was the strength to grow by confronting difficulties head-on and pressing forward in the face of adversity (迎难而上). From the moment I received the assignment to the broadcast of the completed news series, I thought of how Professor Wang endured more than a hundred days in intensive care, more than ten surgeries, and hundreds of dialysis sessions, yet persisted in traveling back and forth among the ward, the laboratory, and the classroom to press forward on his research — and so what is there that I cannot overcome?
This stretch of interviews has now drawn to a close. Illness and pain cannot restrain Professor Wang's forward steps; within his cheerful smile lies a perseverance that does not cease. I will carefully keep what I have learned from him — his passion, tenacity, rigor, and humility — and, carrying the strength gathered from this encounter, I will move forward steadily and earnestly cultivate my craft.