The thing that has made me happiest this past year? Hearing from more and more of you that after reading Master Chi’s articles, you’ve become increasingly… “cold.”
And yet — you feel genuinely happy about it. Because your worldview, across every dimension, has been elevated.
In truth, there’s a slight miscalibration in how you’re describing yourselves. What’s happened isn’t “coldness” — it’s clarity.
Understand this: as your worldview and your standing in life ascend, so does your vantage point. Take how you see the drama and politics of the professional world, for instance. You no longer react like a young hothead, swept away by someone saying “we’re brothers,” letting enthusiasm override judgment. Nor do you hear a speech about grueling work culture and come away bitter and resentful, cursing those at the top alongside whoever will listen.
Strip it back to its root: being weak and low in the hierarchy inevitably means lacking leverage — this is a cosmic truth (天道). When you’re below, find ways to unite with colleagues and fight for shared interests. When you’re above, do what it takes to hold your position and secure your survival. Neither is wrong. That’s simply how the world works.
The same clarity extends to marriage. You no longer try to undo your partner’s stubbornness or force them to be more reasonable and calm. You don’t even attempt, as you once might have, to make your other half live life the way you think is correct.
Instead, you settle into your role with ease — without fanfare, without demands — and within that quiet, you strive to give the best of what you’re capable of.
At its core: you understand that loving someone means pure affection and tenderness. If they’re willing to grow alongside you, wonderful. If not, that’s fine too. In any marriage, one person tends to be further along. If that person is you, then you naturally accept the limitations of the one who isn’t.
To outsiders, this might seem to carry a certain coolness — a lack of warmth. But in reality, this is the very beginning of what I call “upper-tier thinking.”
Why? Because you’ve begun, step by step, to learn how to objectively separate emotion from reason — to genuinely use rational thought to guide your decisions and your life, rather than being led astray and exploited by your feelings.
And ironically, the person who keeps a cool eye on their career is often the one with the most promising future in it. When everyone else is reacting emotionally and making moves that baffle the room, you alone are watching, waiting, searching for the crack in the wall where your own path upward can slip through.
The same principle holds in romance, friendship, and every human relationship: the person who can separate feeling from thought is not only excellent in their own role — they’re the one every circle turns to and relies on most.
So when I see so many of you going through exactly this kind of transformation, it makes every word I’ve written this year feel worthwhile.
I say this without exaggeration: once a person achieves this clarity of seeing, their life and destiny going forward will rarely descend into truly bad territory.
Life, stripped to its essence, is a journey made of one decision after another. When reason allows you to filter out the noise that emotion once created, you’ll find it genuinely difficult to repeat the kinds of mistakes ordinary people keep making — mistakes that baffle the elite, who can’t understand how anyone keeps falling into them.
What many others despise, you will embrace for its meaning. What many others oppose, you will use for its value. What many others are obsessed with, you will refuse for its flaws.
This is the fundamental difference between those who are prey and those who are predators. The predator always operates from a full reservoir of conviction and reason.
I’ll be honest — I had planned to write a few longer pieces before Lunar New Year’s Eve. But given current circumstances, it clearly isn’t the right moment. On one hand, people’s hearts are already pulling them home. On the other, the epidemic spreading right now has left everyone unsettled and on edge.
So I’ve decided to take this opportunity to rest. Writing should resume after the Lantern Festival (the 15th day of the first lunar month). In the meantime, I’ll be working through the destiny reading (命理) consultations I promised — after all, everyone is hoping that the turning point of a new year will bring a fresh start.
Finally, I want to reserve this closing space for the heroes fighting against the epidemic, and for all the brothers and sisters in the high-risk areas.
To everyone in Wuhan, and in every other zone of risk — my most sincere wishes go out to you. The situation may not be ideal right now, but we will get through this. I’m certain of it.
And to those on the front lines: my deepest, most profound respect. This isn’t hollow words or empty sentiment — it comes from a genuine place inside Master Chi.
We live in an age obsessed with great wealth and fame. The applause seems to go only to the titans of business, the stars of entertainment, the commanding leaders. It seems only the successful earn our reverence and admiration.
And yet, time and again, history has proved that the backbone and the marrow of our people and our nation are held up by those who are ordinary to the point of being unremarkable — the people you see everywhere, every day.
They are doctors. Nurses. Medical workers of every kind. Police officers. Soldiers. Countless officers on duty. Government workers at every level, large and small.
But at this moment, they are the blade thrust directly at the epidemic. They are the barrier holding back its spread. They are the source of hope that keeps life possible for the rest of us.
They are parents. They are children. They bleed like the rest of us. But their courage and their resolve are, right now, the only barrier standing between this disease and everyone behind them.
Thank you.
Perhaps when the epidemic has passed, people will slowly let this chapter fade from memory — as people forget everything in time. But you will not be forgotten. You must not be forgotten. When history revisits this coronavirus outbreak and names those whose errors allowed it to spread, history will also name you — its heroes.
Heroes are made greater, not lesser, by their ordinariness.
I wish every one of those heroes a swift return home after this battle is won — to reunite with their families and reclaim the holiday this crisis stole from them.
And to every reader, and to all people everywhere: may you be safe, healthy, and steady — and may we face this challenge and weather this storm together.
Until we meet in the Year of Geng Zi — take care.
(PS: Since the paid-reading feature became available on this platform, some of you have asked whether Master Chi will enable it. The answer is no — and I promise I never will. Everyday articles should be free, ungated, and always open to challenge and disagreement — never a vehicle for collecting money. I know there are far too many people caught in the mud of difficult circumstances, but burning with ambition nonetheless. For them, using what I know to help clear the path — and earning your support in return — is enough. As for tips, well, that feature is kind of fun, so no objection there — ha.)