Today after work, I decided to go to the Go Club. We were supposed to meet at 6 pm but after missing a few buses (as usual), I arrived at 7 pm. No one was there. I thought the venue changed and I just could not find it. Later the organizers replied that they waited for an hour and thought no one else would show up and left. Apparently they were much more upset than I was. I did not feel unhappy or upset at all. I recalled a story that dated back 1650 years go:
Wang Ziyou lived in Shan Yin. On a snowy night, he woke up, opened the door, asked for a drink, and looked outside. It was all white and bright. He read the Poem of the Recluse by Zuo Si, and suddenly thought of his friend Dai Andao. Dai lived in Shan (70 km away). Wang took a boat right away and traveled all night. When Wang arrived at Dai’s front door in the morning, he retured without entering. People asked him why. Wang said, “I travelled there for fun, and when I had fun I returned. Why do I have to meet Dai?”
— Liu Yiqing, Shishuo Xinyu (aka. A New Account of the Tales of the World), translated by me
I totally agree with Wang. I like to go to the Go Club, not only for playing Go, but also as a break from the daily life. On the weekly bus rides there, I see winter goes and spring comes. I have been reading a Go book by Yoo Changhyuk. I only read the book on the bus and have already got halfway through it. I almost missed my stop severl times. That’s how much fun reading Go books on buses. Although I did not play a game tonight, I enjoyed myself. On my way home, I recalled an essay by Sushi, On a Night Tour at the Cheng Tian Temple:
On the night of October 12, 1083, I got undressed and was about to go to bed. The moon shed its light into the room. I felt happy and walked out. There was no one to share this happiness with, so I went to Cheng Tian Temple to visit Zhang Huaimin. He also stayed up. We walked together in the yard. The yard, lit by moonlight, was translucent like a pond, with staggered watergrass inside. Those were actually the shadow of bamboos and pine trees. Aren’t there many nights with the moon? Aren’t there many places with bamboos and pine trees? There are just very few carefree people like the two of us.
— Translated by me, with reference to Lin Yutang’s translation
Happiness is doubled when shared. But what if Zhang Huaimin was already deep asleep and couldn’t be woken up? Su Shi would still be 50% as happy as he could be.