江南檐下雨潺潺， wall-side paintings deep, where waters flow in every brush, and the aged fisherman treads the bank.
South of the Yangtze, the loveliest liquids gather, a silent tear that falls, a delicate scent that drifts, a river of spring, linked by melancholic thoughts, flowing eastward, never to return.
South of the Yangtze, where water abounds, so do the talents. Called scholars, yet they are wanderers. The Yuan Dynasty, an extraordinary era. Many Han Chinese showed an unsubmissive spirit towards the ethnic discrimination policies. Yet, they wavered, hovering between entry and exit. To enter, to unfurl a splendid future in the political stage……
Yet some truly embraced poverty and preserved their will, choosing a solitary life. As chilling as water in a cold ravine, such was Wu Zhen. A painter, not an artist, not for lack of skill, but due to his solitary and haughty nature. He lived in seclusion, never seeking favor, painting only when inspired, not for friendship, but purely for his own heart’s sake.
While most painters favored "mountain living," Wu Zhen was captivated by "fishing seclusion." Beneath the willow shade, a light boat, an old man with a rod, fishing in the rippling water. This carefree, innocent life may be an ideal for many scholars, but few practice it, let alone for a lifetime. Who hasn't yearned for life in their youth? Who hasn't dreamed of achievements in the political realm? Their hermitage was one of helplessness, loss. Given a chance, they would return to the world. Wu Zhen perhaps understood early on that while mountains are grand and masculine, they can also be filled with greed and ambition. But the rulers, perched high above, will ever suppress them, and a fall means certain destruction. The higher one climbs, the closer to darkness. Wu Zhen saw through it all. Why bother? He was content as his solitary fisherman, spending his days with water, its waves and ripples, which do not allow themselves to be manipulated. This echoes his own poem: "In the hidden orchid boat, in light grass clothing, I fish for perch, not fame."
Neither seeking fame and fortune, nor despairing negatively, his life was one of purity and ease. The fisherman's catch is not fish, but a sentiment, an attitude towards life, neither humble nor arrogant, standing firm in this world. Like water, whether meandering through mountains or racing across plains, it holds a serene heart, maintains its true color, finds balance in bitterness and sweetness, exuding the rich fragrance of life.
