By Wu Qiqiang, Cheng Yuanzhou, People’s Daily

A persistent bird call at a middle school in Shenzhen, Guangdong province, recently sparked a widely discussed life lesson, transforming a student’s frustration into an opportunity for learning about nature and coexistence.

The situation began when students at Shenzhen Bao’an Middle School preparing for exams were disturbed by the loud, frequent calls of an Asian koel, a native bird perched outside their classroom window. One student, Le Zongyan, anonymously left a handwritten letter on principal Yuan Weixing’s desk. The letter candidly explained the disruption to their studies and suggested removing the bird’s nest.

Yuan, whose open-door policy encourages students to share their thoughts directly or leave notes, was impressed by the letter’s sincerity and rational tone. Recognizing the students’ understandable desire for a quiet study environment, he chose not to give a simple answer. Instead, he penned a thoughtful public response shared via his social media channel.

In his letter, Yuan acknowledged the pressures students face. He gently explained that the birds sing at dusk instinctively — for mating, marking territory, and communication — and cannot adjust their natural rhythms for human schedules. He encouraged students to reframe the sound: perhaps as natural “white noise” or even a “twilight serenade” offered by the birds.

“The world does not exist for any one individual alone,” Yuan wrote. “Learning to coexist with all living things is a required lesson in growing up. The ultimate goal of education is not to make the world adapt to us, but to help us learn how to live with the world.”

The principal’s warm and insightful reply quickly gained widespread online praise, hailed by many as “exemplary education.” Le Zongyan later responded, stating that the principal’s words had become “a valuable lesson in life education,” emphasizing the importance of harmony with others and nature.

Recognizing this as a broader educational opportunity, Yuan noted, “Simply driving the bird away wouldn’t be appropriate, but doing nothing wasn’t an option either.” The school subsequently invited ecological experts to conduct science sessions on campus and organized student representatives to collaboratively discuss practical solutions, turning an isolated complaint into an ongoing journey of learning about respect and coexistence.

Experts clarified that the bird, colloquially termed the “noisy cuckoo” by students but scientifically known as the Asian koel, becomes especially vocal during its March and April breeding season. Male birds call persistently to attract mates. While their calls can reach 60 to 80 decibels at close proximity, the birds’ activity is sporadic, and their locations shift.

To reduce disruption, the school provided earplugs to students in dormitories near wooded areas. At the same time, artificial nests were installed to guide the birds toward a designated “life garden” recreational zone, away from classrooms and dorm buildings.

In fact, such life education has long been part of the school’s routine practice. When ducks in the campus pond began eating lotus plants, students formed a “campus duck management committee” to address the issue. During typhoons, the principal writes letters encouraging students to respect nature and appreciate resilience. A student-run “campus cat club” also cares for stray cats on school grounds.

According to Liu Yang, a professor at the School of Ecology of Sun Yat-sen University, true civilization is not about conquering nature, but about balancing development with ecological protection. This lesson at the Bao’an middle school planted seeds of ecological awareness in students’ minds, making harmony between humans and nature a living reality on campus, Liu said.

The story also reflects Shenzhen’s broader efforts to promote ecological conservation. 

To protect more than 100,000 migratory birds wintering in the city each year, Shenzhen Bay Park has chosen not to install high-intensity lighting, preserving natural darkness. Futian Mangrove Ecological Park has introduced specially designed “bird-friendly streetlights” to provide safe nesting spaces. Some high-rise buildings have added dotted patterns to glass facades to prevent bird collisions.

Survey data show that Shenzhen is home to over 450 species of wild birds, accounting for about 1/3 of China’s total. From 2021 to 2025, monthly counts of migratory birds on the Shenzhen side have remained at around 40,000, reflecting the city’s ongoing commitment to ecological protection.

By Chen Zihan

On social media platforms, senior users are quietly reshaping perceptions of aging. Today, it’s common to see 90-year-old men sipping bubble tea and playing basketball, or women in their sixties confidently sharing their life stories through short videos.

According to a statistical report on China’s internet development, by June 2025, the number of internet users aged 60 and above in China had reached 161 million, with an internet penetration rate exceeding 52 percent within this demographic. Transitioning from passive users to active content creators, seniors are entering the digital age with a newfound sense of presence.

Take Mr. Wang, a 90-year-old who shares his vibrant life on short video platforms. Bubble tea, traditional Nuo dance, basketball, and urban explorations are regular features of his content.

“I used to plan five ‘one-hour activities’ each day: basketball, dance, music practice, news reading, and outdoor time with my wife. Since starting my social media account, that became six activities, adding an hour for posting, reading comments, and replying,” Wang wrote in his 2025 year-end summary. “It’s been my busiest year since retiring.”

His journey began unexpectedly at the end of 2024 when a video of him ordering bubble tea went viral. Inspired by the response, Wang started sharing his daily life online. Within just over a year, he evolved from a novice who struggled with basic tasks like forwarding links to a popular creator with over 100,000 followers.

His story is far from unique. According to the global travel media platform Travel and Tour World, senior content creators are increasingly influencing audiences’ travel and consumption decisions, thanks to their authenticity and natural relatability.

Why do videos by seniors resonate so strongly with younger viewers?

Jin Yong’ai, a professor at the Population Development Studies Center of Renmin University of China, explained that seniors bring valuable life experience and resonant stories. In the fast-paced online world, their calm and sincere communication offers young people both insight and emotional comfort.

“The warmth and wisdom of older generations can help ease the anxiety and loneliness many young people feel, while also giving seniors a stronger sense of fulfillment,” Jin added.

Xin Tao, a senior engineer at the China Research Center on Aging, noted that the rise of older creators reflects broader social and technological changes. “This trend is driven by multiple factors, including desires for self-realization and social participation, platform incentives and targeted support, intergenerational collaboration, and a more inclusive cultural mindset,” he said. 

Through content creation, Xin emphasized, seniors are not only boosting digital engagement and cultural preservation but also transforming their rich human capital into a new driver of social development.

There’s another influencer who calls herself “Chaoyi” online, which means “fashionable aunt.” From sharing her energetic daily life as a sanitation worker to showcasing her creativity in handcrafting a baby room, the 61-year-old woman has gained over 300,000 followers in just over a year with her optimistic and humorous style.

Like many older creators, she is curious about new things. However, she still relies on her son and daughter-in-law for much of the video production work.

Her experience reflects a broader reality. For many seniors, fully mastering digital tools and independently producing content remains a challenge. To help bridge the digital divide, China has introduced a national standard on age-friendly smart multimedia terminals. Communities across the country regularly offer smartphone training, while user-friendly AI-powered devices are being rolled out, combining technological accessibility with human-centered support.

Meanwhile, Deng Hong, a 72-year-old Chinese expatriate in France, greets her audience cheerfully: “Hello everyone, I’m Hongjie, living in France.” Creating short videos has added a vibrant new dimension to her life. “I want to show my confidence in life and share positive energy through my videos,” she said. “I’m planning to learn video editing myself. With today’s powerful AI tools, I will be able to add scripts to my videos in the future.”

“Older people should not be seen simply as a group in need of care,” Jin emphasized. “They are actively participating in society.” Recent survey data from her research team showed that in areas such as instant messaging and online payments, seniors’ internet usage is now largely on par with other age groups.

From Wang’s six “one-hour activities,” to Chaoyi’s family-assisted creativity, and to Deng Hong’s exploration of AI, a growing number of older creators are finding their unique rhythms in the digital world, redefining what it means to age in the modern era.

By Meng Haiying, People’s Daily

As March brings warmer temperatures to northeast China, the snow and ice blanketing its forested mountains begin to thaw.

At 8:30 a.m., a People’s Daily reporter arrived at a research base of the Northeast China Tiger and Leopard National Park in Hunchun, northeast China’s Jilin province, and joined Feng Limin — director of the monitoring and research center for siberian tigers and amur leopards under the National Forestry and Grassland Administration and a professor at Beijing Normal University (BNU) — for a trek into the mountains. The trip offered both a field survey and a glimpse into the daily work of researchers deep in the forest.

Not long after entering the woods, the crisp air and birdsong set the scene, while herds of sika deer could be seen leaping through the trees.

As they moved deeper into the forest, Feng suddenly stopped, his eyes lighting up. On a patch of unmelted snow lay a dense cluster of tracks — interwoven footprints of sika deer and roe deer, mixed with signs of wild boars. Pointing to a larger, rounder print, he said excitedly, “That’s a tiger’s footprint!”

“Imagine youself as a tiger, how would this forest feel?” Feng said, mimicking a tiger’s gait with childlike enthusiasm. 

“When I enter the forest, I instinctively step outside the human perspective. Only by seeing the forest through the animals’ eyes — observing how they move, forage, and live — can we advance meaningful research and conservation,” Feng explained.

The rich variety of tracks in the snow serves as tangible evidence of the park’s improving ecosystem.

In Miaoling, a rural village, two elderly residents strolled along a local road. “In my youth, deer sightings were rare,” remarked Diao, a septuagenarian. “Now we watch herds graze on the hills right from our windows. The environment here has truly transformed.”

Infrared cameras, each fitted with solar panels, lined the forest trails. “More than 20 years ago, we had to go into the mountains to replace batteries and retrieve film from these cameras, which meant long delays,” Feng explained. “Now, with solar power and real-time data transmission, most camera sites in the national park can send back real-time images and videos in real time.”

Feng’s team at BNU developed an integrated ground-air-space monitoring platform, enhancing transparency and efficiency in species tracking, patrols, anti-poaching operations, and fire prevention.

He displayed a sequence of clips: a villager carrying wire appeared before a camera; days later, a roe deer passed the same spot; then, a hunter dragged the deer downhill. By the next day, forest police were documented collecting evidence against the suspected poacher.

In recent years, Jilin province has carried out special campaigns to remove illegal traps from the park. With the comprehensive real-time monitoring system, illegal activities have virtually nowhere to hide. 

Today, the national park operates a large-scale, integrated monitoring network: nearly 30,000 ground-based infrared cameras run around the clock, supported by satellite remote sensing from space and drone patrols in the air, achieving near-complete coverage.

With advanced technology and sustained conservation efforts, results are becoming increasingly evident. The populations of Siberian tigers and Amur leopards have grown from 27 and 42 to around 70 and 80, respectively.

“Another discovery!” Feng exclaimed after discovering tiger scat following the earlier footprint. “Collecting feces is an important non-invasive sampling method. It contains valuable information about the tiger’s diet, genetic makeup, and health — crucial for research.”

Reflecting on key milestones, Feng outlined a timeline: Jilin province banned hunting of terrestrial wildlife in 1996; national nature reserves were established in Hunchun and Wangqing in the early 2000s; commercial logging in key state-owned natural forests was halted in 2015; and in October 2021, the Northeast China Tiger and Leopard National Park was officially established, covering 14,100 square kilometers.

At 3 p.m., the group returned from the mountains. Still full of energy, Feng headed off to meet a group of a high school students from an affiliated school of BNU, where he was scheduled to give a science outreach lecture. No matter how busy his is, he always makes time for public education — reaching an audience of over 1 million people.