2025 was an unforgettable year for me. Some setbacks only make sense later, when you finally understand what you want—and what you can actually ask for. A newly coined phrase on the Chinese internet, ai laoji—roughly, 'love yourself well'—describes my current state better than I could.
This year I decided not to go home for Spring Festival. I had plenty of excuses, and most of them were true: after leaving my job in Shenzhen in June, I had already spent more than two months at home; tickets are hard to get when you live far away; the holiday is short, and I had only been at my new job a few months, so I had no extra annual leave; going home for just a few days felt pointless, and the New Year atmosphere seems thinner every year. But the real reason I stayed in Chengdu is simpler. I know it, and that's enough.
On the evening of February 13, I met a friend with plans for barbecue and beer as a small reward. We went back and forth and finally settled on an all-you-can-eat barbecue place, because two people eating buffet cost about the same as one round of barbecue and beer, and I honestly couldn't remember the last time I had been to a buffet. My friend agreed immediately, and we went to eat buffet barbecue in the name of barbecue and beer.
Our drinking capacity is modest, to put it kindly. We managed five bottles between us. Embarrassing.
February 14 was Valentine's Day. For many people it's a sleepless night; for me it was clear, breezy weather perfect for a long nap at home. The company seemed to know that most people were already mentally on holiday, so it gave us a half day. I clocked out at noon.
The next day, the official Spring Festival holiday began.
February 15
I woke up without an alarm, went down to a plaza, walked around in the sun, and then went to an internet café to play games.
February 16, New Year's Eve
I slept in again. Since it was New Year's Eve, I thought I should stock up on food and drinks, so I went to Hema Fresh and bought some groceries. In the evening I called my parents and we chatted about family matters. Then I went out to find dinner. It was the night when almost every household has a reunion dinner, and after walking around I found that many restaurants were closed. Eventually I found one place that was still open.
February 17, the first day of the lunar year
I planned to visit Qingyang Palace to burn incense and pray. But I got on the subway in the wrong direction and ended up at Jincheng Avenue. I'm usually optimistic, so I decided to make the best of it: I searched nearby, found Jincheng Lake, and went for a walk instead.
I cycled around the park.
February 18, the second day
Yesterday was an accident, I told myself; today I would definitely not get on the wrong train. Qingyang Palace—here I come.
I touched the bronze goat's head and made a wish for myself and for anyone reading: May the new year bring you peace and smooth days, with joy close by; may your actions match your understanding, and may you keep walking toward what your heart wants, simply and steadily.
Next to Qingyang Palace is a cultural park that functions as an amusement area. There were pirate ships, bumper cars, and people sitting around a stove brewing tea. It felt relaxed and easy.
February 19, the third day
I slept in again. The weather was bright and sunny, ideal for sitting outside. I looked for somewhere nearby and found Wangjianglou Park, not far away. So off I went.
And then I arrived at East Lake Park. I couldn't help it—it was right next to the subway exit. Why travel farther when I could sit in the sun right there? Chengdu people really do have a talent for taking it easy.
I found a spot, drank coffee, and copied sutras to calm my mind.
Then I went to an internet café to play games.
February 20, the fourth day
Heraclitus said you cannot step into the same river twice. I reminded myself that yesterday's goal had been Wangjianglou Park, and that I should not forget my original intention. So: Wangjianglou Park, here I come.
And then I arrived at East Lake Park again. I walked around and noticed there were fewer people than the day before. No, I couldn't keep being this lazy. The weather was so nice—perfect for—then I went to an internet café to play games.
February 21, the fifth day
I forget what I did, but I vaguely remember that some shops began reopening. I no longer had to run around just to find a meal, and I felt it was time to do something.
Then I went to an internet café to play games.
February 22, the sixth day
I slept in yet again, then went out in the afternoon to Tianfu Square, the center of the city. The square was crowded and lively. Chengdu was starting to get its old energy back.
Less than a kilometer from Tianfu Square is People's Park, where a Lantern Festival event was going on. I wandered through, ate and drank, walked and stopped.
Then I went to an internet café to play games. By the time I came out it was around seven, so I went to another nearby spot, Kuixinglou Street. Online it's described as a snack night market, but I was a little disappointed. To be honest, it was just so-so: one street, not many snacks, and more regular restaurants than street food.
February 23, the seventh day
The holiday was almost over. I decided to stay home and rest, no going out. Other people's Spring Festival holidays are full—eating and drinking, rushing around, visiting relatives and friends. Mine was more like eating one meal and skipping the next, closing my eyes, opening them, and finding the holiday over. Hmm.
In the evening I had barbecue and beer to reward myself.
