A benevolent person, when he wants to establish himself, helps others to establish themselves; when he wants to achieve himself, helps others to achieve themselves. Being able to draw analogies from the nearest place can be regarded as a way of benevolence. The copper bell on the eaves swayed in the twilight, awakening the sleeping Tianliang Star. This Ziwei main star, known as the “shadow star”, was scattering its clear light on the remaining leaves on the bluestone slab, as if Confucius’ eyes when he held the scroll had passed through 2,500 years of wind and frost and landed on the cracked nails of his grandmother.

That year, the locust flowers in Qufu were falling, and the 20-year-old Zhongyou was arguing with someone in the market. The young and energetic Confucius rushed to the scene after hearing the news, but saw thick smoke rising from his own courtyard – the angry boy had set his neighbor’s hut on fire. The firelight reflected Confucius’ pale face. He looked at the baby curled up among the broken walls and suddenly understood: when the flames devoured the eaves of others, they must first burn through his own benevolent heart. From then on, the four words “do not do what you would not have done to yourself” were like the halo of Tianliang Star, leaving an eternal mark in his chest.

Tianliang Star rotates in Ziweiyuan, and is used to the worldly fireworks. It has seen Mencius running on the frost and dew of Qi and Lu, spreading the words of “Respect the old as my own and the old of others” to the princes; it has seen Du Fu pick up the rice steamer of the floating mother by the Huanhua River and write the sad cry of “I wish I had thousands of mansions” into the lines of poetry; it has seen grandma gather the withered and yellowed leaves into a pile, as if collecting all the scattered sighs in the world. True compassion is never the tide of compassion that floods all scars, but standing on the dry riverbed, knowing that there is moonlight hidden in every crack.

When the yellow dog at the alley limped through the seventh spring, grandma’s bamboo plaque was already full of leftover vegetable stems. She said that people with Tianliang in their life palaces should not judge others by themselves, just like Wang Bo’s yellow dog curled up under the eaves. The stones of children are as sharp as the scolding of adults; just like when Granny Lin was alone in the empty courtyard, the hot soup we sent was three times warmer than pity. Tianliang teaches us to live like a soft shield, neither stabbing others nor being hurt by the edges of the world.

In July, the yellow dog finally died of old age at the entrance of the alley. When grandma took me to bury it, Tianliang was hanging on the top of the willow tree. She said that Tianliang knows the sufferings of the world best, so it always quietly moves its position in the middle of the night to block some sharp star fragments for the world. I looked at her hunched back and suddenly understood that true compassion is to live like the moonlight in other people’s lives, illuminating the way forward without burning the way back.

Now, grandma’s grave is also full of honeysuckle flowers. On rainy nights, it seems that you can still hear the copper bells whispering in the wind. Tianliang star is still twinkling in Ziweiyuan. It sees the angels in white staying up all night in front of the operating table, the teachers spreading the starlight of knowledge to the mountains, and every ordinary person who gives up his seat for pregnant women on the subway. Tianliang smiles in the clouds, because humans have finally learned: when we put ourselves in others’ shoes, the whole universe will become a mirror image of ourselves.

The stars are always bright, and the lights of the world have never been extinguished. Those gentleness that stop in time when you don’t want to do something, and the kindness that blooms quietly when you don’t do it to others, will eventually gather into the Milky Way, so that the glory of Tianliang star will no longer be lonely.

Text/Xingchenshanren