A nation's industrial development begins with junior engineers.

Jiang Xia didn't want to move, but he couldn't resist Old Wang's insistence on dragging him out. Plus, he was quite curious about what "releasing sea lanterns" was like in this era, so he quickly washed up, changed into clean clothes, and went out with him.

The closer you get to Tiger Beach, the stronger the festive atmosphere becomes. The streets are much more crowded than usual. Although most people are dressed simply, either in faded blue work clothes or patched coarse cloth garments, their faces show less of the usual tension from hard work and more of a relaxed smile.

Occasionally, you can see vendors resting by the roadside, carrying loads of homemade salted duck eggs on one end and cheap snacks and fruits wrapped in red paper on the other.

Children weave through the crowd, clutching rare candies or simple paper lanterns in their hands, their clear laughter piercing through the surrounding noise.

This sight piqued Jiang Xia's curiosity. He nudged Lao Wang beside him with his elbow and asked in a low voice, "Now... are there still private individuals selling things on the street?"

In his vague recollection, this kind of "small business" should have disappeared several years ago.

Old Wang followed his gaze and glanced at the vendor, his face showing no surprise, as if he were already used to it. He also lowered his voice and leaned closer to Jiang Xia to explain:

"In the past two years, the policy has been slightly relaxed. I heard that the higher-ups feel that there are some small things that the public stores can't handle, or that people have some surplus production at home. As long as they don't engage in large-scale speculation and trading, the higher-ups will turn a blind eye to it."

Especially on a major festival like today, with so many people coming, the regulations are a bit more lax. Didn't you see they're only selling snacks? This is just skirting the law, supplementing their household income; it's completely different from the 'merchants' of the old society.”

Old Wang paused, then pointed with his chin to an old man not far away who was tidying up his carrying pole: "Look at that carrying pole and basket, they're so old, you can tell they're just for personal use, not for business."

I reckon it's members of the nearby commune taking advantage of this time to bring out the eggs they've saved and the fruit from their private plots to exchange for some change, or simply barter to get some sweet treats for their children from other families.

Being unassuming and inconspicuous means no one takes it seriously.

Jiang Xia listened and nodded thoughtfully.

Old Wang's explanation, combined with the bustling yet restrained street scene before him, gave him a more concrete understanding of the resilience and wisdom of grassroots life in this era.

This is neither a completely open market economy nor a blanket ban, but a flexible policy implemented during a special period to improve people's livelihoods, which is imbued with a touch of humanity.

Having grown accustomed to the conventional reporting in internal references, Jiang Xia felt that this was more like an unspoken understanding and delicate balance between grassroots survival wisdom and policy implementation.

that's nice!

A considerable number of people had already gathered on the relatively open gravel beach and the simple wooden pier extending from Tiger Beach. The group consisted mainly of fishermen and shipyard workers' families, including men, women, and children.

The sky was not yet completely dark, and the afterglow of the setting sun dyed the sea surface golden red.

The most eye-catching sights were the old fishing boats moored at the dock, and the small sampans that had been towed onto the mudflats.

They were decorated differently than usual: fresh mugwort and peach branches were stuck at the bow, and strings of ornaments simply strung together with colored paper or seashells hung on the gunwales.

At the bow of each boat, there is one or more lamps of different styles. There are traditional folding paper lanterns, simple oil lamps made from recycled glass jars and ink bottles, and more "luxurious" octagonal palace lanterns carefully pasted with red paper.

Some lampshades have "Peace" written on them, while others have "Harvest" written on them, and simple fish and shrimp patterns are drawn around them.

"Is this the 'Sea Lantern'?" Jiang Xia looked around curiously.

In his memory, lantern festivals were mostly brightly lit by electronic lights. The rough, primitive lanterns in front of him, however, were full of genuine handcrafted charm and had a unique kind of splendor.

"Hmm!" An old fisherman squatting on the ground nearby, tidying up his nets, heard this, looked up and grinned, revealing teeth stained yellow by tobacco. "Young man, first time seeing this, huh? Don't rush, it'll get really interesting when it gets dark!"

The sky finally began to darken slowly, and the sea breeze carried a chill.

A commotion arose in the crowd. An elderly fisherman with white hair and beard walked to the very front of the dock, faced the sea, and solemnly uttered a few words of prayer, roughly something like, "May the weather be favorable, the catch be plentiful, and may your loved ones return safely from the sea."

Then, he personally lit the largest and brightest red lamp at the bow of the ship.

As if by signal, hundreds of various kinds of sea lanterns were lit one after another on the dock and the beach! The dim, warm glow bloomed one by one, reflecting the last rays of the sunset on the horizon and the shimmering waves on the sea.

Then, people carefully lifted their own lamps, and some boarded their own small boats and rowed towards the nearshore waters.

More people gathered at the pier, crouched down, and gently placed lit lamps into the sea. The ocean currents carried these twinkling lights slowly towards the deeper sea.

The lights swayed and flickered on the water, forming a flowing, warm river of light that slowly merged into the dark sea, as if sending people's thoughts and wishes to the endless distance.

The scene was not noisy; there was even a solemn silence. Only the sound of the waves, the low prayers of the people releasing the lanterns, and the children's barely suppressed excited shouts mingled in the twilight.

Jiang Xia and Lao Wang stood quietly in the crowd, watching. The fatigue accumulated over the past few days, the tense nerves, and those meticulous but mentally taxing plans seemed to be quietly washed away and soothed by this tranquil and magnificent sea of ​​light.

……

The sea breeze is salty and briny, and crowds throng the shore of Tiger Beach. As dusk settles into a deep blue like the sea, the twinkling lights near the shore have merged into a trickle of light.

Jiang Xia's gaze was drawn to a particularly eye-catching small wooden boat on the beach.

Unlike the boats adorned with colorful paper around it, this boat was too ordinary, even dilapidated. The only exception was an unusually large and plain white paper lantern placed at the bow. On the lantern's wall, a character "归" (return) was written in bold ink, its strength penetrating the paper as if it had been written with all its might.

An elderly man with a hunched back was carefully sending it into the sea.

“That ship…” Jiang Xia’s throat moved slightly.

Old Wang followed his gaze and remained silent for a moment.

Old Wang followed his gaze and remained silent for a moment. He wasn't a local and didn't know the specifics, but the lone boat, the giant lamp, and the solemn, almost frozen atmosphere spoke volumes.

“I don’t recognize that old man,” Old Wang’s voice sounded low amidst the clamor of the sea breeze and the crowd, “but releasing sea lanterns, especially this one held on the Dragon Boat Festival, has a deeper meaning in our hearts besides praying for good weather and a bountiful harvest.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the increasing number of lights on the sea, as if he could see into a deeper distance through them:

"Lying beneath this seabed are not only the families of fishermen. From the Sino-Japanese War of 1894 to the present day, how many fine young men, sailing ships and piloting boats, have given their lives... forever in this saltwater so that this land behind them would no longer be trampled upon."

Some of them have names and surnames, while others don't even have a tombstone for their relatives to kowtow to... Every single lamp lit on this sea of ​​lights is for them.

A sudden chill ran through the sea breeze. Jiang Xia watched as the "Return" lantern, carefully pushed by the old man, drifted steadily away from the side of the boat, merging into the gradually expanding river of light.

That was more than just a father's call to his flesh and blood.

"If the lights are brighter, the road will be brighter."

Old Wang murmured, repeating words he'd heard somewhere, words that seemed to echo his own thoughts: "So that the living may have hope, and so that... those heroic souls who didn't make it home may see the way back. O souls—come back."

The last four words, spoken so softly, struck Jiang Xia's heart like a hammer blow. The scene before him suddenly shed its warm, folkloric veneer, revealing a tragic yet sublime core.

This seems to be a silent, collective commemoration by a nation facing the vast ocean and its profound history.

Thousands of lights, rising and falling with the waves, drifted slowly into the darkness, like a path paved with light leading to memories and the other shore. The crowd on the shore fell silent, with only the soft sounds of the waves and the wind rustling the lights.

Jiangxia gazed at the sea of ​​light for a long time. The faint homesickness that had been stirred by the rice dumplings earlier was now covered by a grander and more profound emotion.

"Soul returns..."

This sea needs to be protected.

And what is worth protecting is never just the land beneath our feet.