TIP

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WARNING

This article may contain content that could trigger depressive feelings. If you have relevant mental health conditions, please judge for yourself whether it is suitable for you to read.

Once upon a time, there were two blind men—an elderly one and a young one—who made a living by storytelling and playing the lute. The elderly blind man’s master had a prescription that could cure their blindness, but it required a hundred broken lute strings as a medicinal guide. However, after collecting enough strings, the elderly blind man was forced to confront a harsh truth through the words of many literate people: the prescription was just a blank piece of paper. When the strings broke and the music ended, the elderly blind man handed the “prescription” to the young blind man, telling him he needed to break one thousand and two hundred strings. And the story returned to where it began—there were two blind men, an elderly one and a young one.

The Strings

The “strings” in the story refer to the lute strings, the tool the two blind men used for storytelling. Even on sweltering days when the heat was unbearable, the only thing the elderly blind man cared about was, “Don’t mix up the sanxian (a three-stringed plucked instrument).”

Why did the elderly blind man value just a few lute strings so much? Because these were not ordinary strings—they were the source of the hundred broken strings needed for the medicinal guide, and the hope that sustained his life.

As soon as two strings broke, all the collected strings were discarded. With just a few simple lines of dialogue, Shi Tiesheng, through his masterful writing, made the elderly blind man’s joy leap off the page. At that moment, the weather was scorching hot, but Shi Tiesheng suddenly shifted the scene—heavy snow began to fall abruptly. By describing the scenery before the characters’ reactions, it was clear that fate would not let things go as people wished.

Imagine this: You’re waiting eagerly off-stage, about to go up and receive an award, when your arch-rival suddenly appears and tells you the certificate was a mistake—it should have been his. How would you feel?

Despair—that’s exactly how the elderly blind man felt when he, filled with joy, asked someone to read the prescription to him. Fifty years of hard work and anticipation, only to be told the “prescription” was just a blank sheet of paper. It was like how Shi Tiesheng himself, in the prime of his youth, was left paralyzed in his lower body by a high fever. No one can withstand such a blow from fate.

The elderly blind man sat there motionless for three whole days and nights. But even then, he couldn’t understand why his master had lied to him—until he remembered that his master had mistakenly told him the number of strings needed was a hundred.

In other words, the prescription itself was just a gimmick. Breaking the strings was nothing more than a reason to keep living. Shi Tiesheng only wrote that the elderly blind man lied to the young blind man by adding two hundred more strings to the requirement—but can we guess that before this, the number might have been eight hundred, six hundred, four hundred, or even two hundred strings? It’s entirely possible.

The strings in the story are more than just lute strings—they are the strings of life.

“Only when the string snaps can new music be played. But once a string breaks, it can never be tightened again.” This line, spoken by the elderly blind man’s master, emerges in the elderly blind man’s memories amid the despair of discovering the blank paper. Now, the truth is obvious: Life must always have a goal. Only with a goal can there be motivation to strive for something. Once the goal is achieved, life loses its meaning.

The elderly blind man was already “three-quarters in the grave”—he clearly no longer cared about how he would die. But he cared about others, especially his young apprentice. At that time, the young blind man, overwhelmed by sorrow from being looked down on, had collapsed in the snow. The elderly blind man helped him recover and passed the “prescription” on to him. “He bore all the blows alone and passed on the goal of living to the ‘next generation,’ giving the young blind man a goal to strive for: ‘one thousand and two hundred broken strings.’”

Shi Tiesheng did not reveal the elderly blind man’s final fate at the end of the story. Did he eventually live or die?

I think he probably died. It’s not hard to imagine: For someone who has lost hope in life and lost their reason to live, their spirit has already dissipated. Even if they are still breathing, what’s the difference between them and a zombie? What’s the difference between them and a dead person? There is no difference.

I didn’t write this article to be inspirational, because this kind of “chicken soup for the soul” content is meaningless, and no one likes it anyway—so why would I write it? No one would read it. Shi Tiesheng, in the darkest period of his life, used his pen to carve out a path forward. But what can one do when they are in the prime of life, yet unable to walk?

When I was a child, I often thought… (The original text here seems incomplete: “he didn’t know, near or far, but there would always be something”), but we always have to find something to hold onto in life. You might think this sounds a bit…

Life Is Like a String of a Lute

Since I’ve already written this far, I have to dig deeper into the meaning of the title—something Mr. Shi might not have thought about. Well, this is also the part that exam setters love the most: It’s not about you thinking about what the author wanted to say, but guessing what the exam setters are thinking.

Lute strings are fragile. The elderly blind man spent half his life breaking a hundred strings—on average, that’s one string broken every 19 days. At first glance, this might not seem to mean anything. But to stick to my own perspective, I’ll impose a meaning on it: “It symbolizes the fragility of life.” However, life really is fragile—tinker with it a little, and it breaks. Then, all sorts of troubles come: depression, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and all kinds of messy mental illnesses.

The young blind man might think: “One thousand broken strings? That’s easy!”

In reality, there must be people who get stuck even on the first string. But what can we do about it? This is not something I can change, nor something I am capable of changing.

Lute strings can produce beautiful music, and life can also be used to do things we love and shine in our own way. But first, you have to tune the strings properly. It’s clearly unreasonable to expect a low-pitched sound from a piano string that’s supposed to be high-pitched, or a high-pitched sound from a string that’s not tightened enough. That’s why we often see ridiculous things happen: People understand that a string needs to be tuned to the right tightness to produce proper and beautiful music; they understand that plants need the right amount of fertilizer to bloom and bear fruit. Yet they force others to do things they don’t like, and even demand that they “shine”—all while calling it “the strong adapt to the environment” or “I’m doing this for your own good.”

Lute strings can produce beautiful music, but that doesn’t mean they can be wasted like this. Lute strings are fragile too.

Postscript

After reading Shi Tiesheng’s collection of essays, I noticed that the concept of “God” appears in many places. But I don’t know what significance this has—at least for someone like me, who has been educated in historical materialism since childhood, it’s hard to understand (in fact, praying to gods and Buddha at a time like this is definitely useless).

From a “normal person’s” perspective, this article is incomprehensible. That’s understandable. But even if you put yourself in the shoes of a person with depression, some parts are still confusing—because you don’t understand them, you don’t know their pain.

From the very beginning, I didn’t expect anyone to understand this article. Because this article isn’t meant for “normal people” to read. Well, this is just the result of my thinking at a different time. So, just take this as me rambling like a madman.

EaciWereGone

September 17, 2025