Professor Lu Wai-Luen (Director, Hong Kong Literature Research Centre, Chinese University of Hong Kong)

The water of Shimen Bay still flows, and villagers still live their ordinary lives, day in, day out. Yet there is no mark to remind people that here once lived an honorable and adorable person whose wisdom and lenience brought us warmth and love through his words and illustrations during the past few decades. And he has passed away for five years.

It's unclear from when the world becomes so strange, as “warmth” is a symbol of corruption, and “love” is ridiculed. Suspicion and anger feverishly gnaws our heart. People couldn't see the bright sun and the clear moon, nor can they see lushly green grass or blooming flowers. They can only see the torching sun, the rough wind, the prick of thorns and leaves long dead. Then, in the small Yat Yuet House, Mr. Feng Zikai silently held his pen, painting scenes with willows, poems, and children at play. He copied poems from the past, each gentle and kind. He translated pages of stories from ancient Japan.

In the turbulent period of time, even silence was a sin. Forgive me for being petty, but I once asked, “Did he resent? Did he hate? Did he still believe in sincerity and love?” To this, people who were intimate with him once replied, “He would silently take a sip of his wine, and then talk casually. Or, he would use his cartoonist humor to fittingly describe people and objects. He would play with children, and chat with the Pedi cab driver who loved his drawings.”

He was waiting.

The water of Shimen Bay, Feng Zikai's birthplace, still flows. He was a man who loved his home town. After having a ladle of water from his hometown, he returned, and peacefully passed away.

Was he exhausted? Not at all! As gentle Jiangnan waters ceaselessly flowing into the ocean, his thoughts and beliefs quietly flow around us today.

He was waiting, waiting for people obsessed with hypocrisy and hatred to amend themselves like a prodigal son that returns. He was waiting for the east wind to thaw the ice, and the first green sprout fighting its way out from of ice and rock crevices.

Some may say, “It has been five years. What to expect as his cremains is already cold?”

People's lives may end, yet some things may be eternal. Feng Zikai's belief is just like a lamp. There will certainly be people passing it on!
The cremains may turn cold, but it does not bother him at all. Just look:
The water of Shimen Bay still flows. Spring is not far behind.

15 September, 1980