<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss version="2.0"><channel><title>ungetsu · 雲月 · Essays</title><description>Personal site of Ungetsu (Yunyue Li): landscape photography, works, and essays.</description><link>https://ungetsu.net/</link><language>en</language><item><title>At Twenty-Six — In a Frostless South, Beholding the Splendor of Things</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/suiji-2026/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/suiji-2026/</guid><description>&quot;Life is not what one lived, but what one remembers.&quot; Twenty-six, with twenty-five barely past. In the mild night wind of an early southern spring, I stoop to gather the drifting light of this year — from the old dreams of Hengfu to a frostless new corner, a migration of fifteen hundred kilometers, a backward glance across a quarter of a century. 雲月さん、二十六歳のお誕生日おめでとうございます。</description><pubDate>Thu, 05 Mar 2026 16:00:00 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>Notes from My Zodiac Year — the First Print of My Straw Sandals</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/suiji-2025/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/suiji-2025/</guid><description>Life is full of forking roads, north and south; you head for the Xiao and Xiang, I head for Qin. Though I cannot help becoming a stray phrase inside somebody&apos;s enormous narrative, I will still, with a Hemingway-grade stubbornness, insist on being a typo; I will still tremble at sunrise over Mount Tai, still invent, in an exam hall strewn with cherry blossoms, the literary dream of some parallel universe. Time for warp and events for weft, and we the shuttle; in laying on the colors, the plain ground comes first.</description><pubDate>Wed, 05 Mar 2025 16:00:00 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>My Twenty-Third Year — One Smile, and Spring Rises on the Yangtze Tide</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/suiji-2024/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/suiji-2024/</guid><description>In March I gathered flowers and brewed the spring; in June the fireflies dyed the summer; in October I gleaned autumn along the rice-field paths; in the twelfth month I smelled snow on the plum branch. The first twenty-four years of my life are a prologue as of today — one vast pursuit of the moon. This journey will meet its terminus someday; there is no need to hurry. 雲月さん、二十四歳のお誕生日おめでとうございます。</description><pubDate>Tue, 05 Mar 2024 16:05:03 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>My Five Years of University — Ramblings of an Atypical Business Student</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/suiji-2023/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/suiji-2023/</guid><description>The unknown is hard to fathom; the known, hard to leave. New bonds are hard to tie; old friends, hard to see again. In these five years of mine, from 18 to 23 — from computer science to hydraulic engineering, to Japanese, then to finance, then to games; from Xinglongshan, which gave me my first impression of university, to lush Hongjialou, and on to the other end of Asia — the journey has been long and jolting, but the full stop, so long extended, is at last about to be set down.</description><pubDate>Sun, 05 Mar 2023 16:00:00 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>Changing Majors in China: the State of Play, and the &apos;Quit Your Major&apos; Discourse</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/zhuanzhuanye-quantuixue/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/zhuanzhuanye-quantuixue/</guid><description>The &apos;quit your major&apos; discourse is those who walked the road first, and met its potholes, leaving a warning for those who have not yet set out.</description><pubDate>Sat, 04 Jan 2020 05:47:55 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>The Small Matter of Changing Majors</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/zhuanzhuanye-xiaoshi/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/zhuanzhuanye-xiaoshi/</guid><description>The slash youth has finally shed the hat of hydraulic engineering, and the days of hydropower stations and concrete dams have at last passed into memory. So, let me introduce myself anew. Shandong University, School of Foreign Languages and Literature, Japanese major, Class of 2019: 厉云越.</description><pubDate>Fri, 03 Jan 2020 14:46:31 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>*My Dear Liar*, Previewed — the Beneficiary Never Existed</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/shouyiren-qianzhan/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/shouyiren-qianzhan/</guid><description>On November 8, *My Dear Liar*, directed by Shen Ao and starring Da Peng and Liu Yan, arrives in theaters. I was lucky enough to be among the very first audience in the country to see the finished film in person — and for a picture this closely watched, a precise preview is indispensable.</description><pubDate>Tue, 05 Nov 2019 13:51:54 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>&apos;Uzi&apos; — After an Imperfect Curtain Call at S9</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/uzi-s9/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/uzi-s9/</guid><description>Today, &apos;Uzi&apos;—the three letters printed across his tournament jersey—no longer carried the deathly majesty that once struck fear into every AD carry alive. All I could see was a man attempting what he knew could not be done: the tragic grandeur of a hero at the end of his road, the keen resolve of one who departs and will not return.</description><pubDate>Sun, 20 Oct 2019 00:42:19 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>A Letter in Reply to Brother Zhang</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/bao-zhang-nianxiong-shu/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/bao-zhang-nianxiong-shu/</guid><description>One morning you and I stood beneath the eaves while dawn dyed the sky and steeped the halls in gold, and as the young sun rose and reddened our faces I heard you chanting the classics like morning bell and evening drum, shaking the very beams, till our schoolfellows started up and hurried over — one man, one book, one dream, and nothing more.</description><pubDate>Sun, 19 May 2019 11:03:00 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>When the Gentleman Sees Great Waters</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/junzi-jian-dashui/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/junzi-jian-dashui/</guid><description>The wisdom of flowing water is a Zen understanding pure and unstained, warm and rounded, a breadth of spirit that meets change unstartled and moves as circumstance moves, a lamp of insight that cuts its own valley — and true water conservancy takes water to benefit the heart, the world, and the people who live in it, letting flower the rounded music of water and a proud culture handed on from torch to torch.</description><pubDate>Wed, 03 Apr 2019 03:54:56 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>Driving Past Solitude and Splendor</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/shiguo-jimo-fanhua/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/shiguo-jimo-fanhua/</guid><description>But time won&apos;t listen, always hurrying us to grow up. From this stop to the next, the journey never pauses. So let it slowly be forgotten, for there is no going back to that midsummer when closing your eyes meant having everything.</description><pubDate>Tue, 02 Apr 2019 11:29:36 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>I Am an Unmoored Boat</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/buxi-zhi-zhou/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/buxi-zhi-zhou/</guid><description>“Nothing makes me stay / except my destination / though the shore holds roses, green shade, a quiet harbor / I am an unmoored boat.”</description><pubDate>Sun, 31 Mar 2019 11:47:49 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>Every Ending Has Been Written, Every Tear Has Set Out</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/suoyou-jieju/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/suoyou-jieju/</guid><description>2018. One Tahm Kench, one LeBlanc, one lantern that would never light, and eight years that would never come back.</description><pubDate>Sun, 21 Oct 2018 01:04:12 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>Three Feet Square, Under Red Brick and Grey Tile (III)</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/hongzhuan-huiwa-3/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/hongzhuan-huiwa-3/</guid><description>Red brick and grey tile, three years of mist and cloud. Teaching within three feet square — the peach and the plum say nothing, yet a path forms beneath them.</description><pubDate>Sat, 21 Jul 2018 14:16:18 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>Three Feet Square, Under Red Brick and Grey Tile (II)</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/hongzhuan-huiwa-2/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/hongzhuan-huiwa-2/</guid><description>Red brick and grey tile, three years of mist and cloud. Teaching within three feet square — the peach and the plum say nothing, yet a path forms beneath them.</description><pubDate>Sat, 14 Jul 2018 13:43:30 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>Three Feet Square, Under Red Brick and Grey Tile (I)</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/hongzhuan-huiwa-1/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/hongzhuan-huiwa-1/</guid><description>Red brick and grey tile, bearing three years of mist and cloud. Teaching within three feet square — the peach and the plum say nothing, yet a path forms beneath them.</description><pubDate>Fri, 13 Jul 2018 14:53:58 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>Those Who Carry Firewood for the Many Must Not Be Left to Die in the Snow.</title><link>https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/wei-zhongren-baoxin/</link><guid isPermaLink="true">https://ungetsu.net/en/posts/wei-zhongren-baoxin/</guid><description>Thoughts after watching 《我不是药神》</description><pubDate>Wed, 11 Jul 2018 12:43:56 GMT</pubDate></item></channel></rss>