At Jing Yidan's farewell ceremony in Beijing on September 17, a short sentence hung above the memorial hall: "Thank you, world, for letting me walk through it."
The words were written by Jing herself. They had also appeared in the notice announcing her death at the age of 71. Instead of listing her awards or television programs, the sentence offered a simple expression of gratitude.
"Walking through" was an idea Jing had explored before. For decades, she moved between television studios and reporting locations, meeting people whose lives might otherwise have received little public attention. She joined China Central Television in 1988 and became known for programs including Focus Interview, Oriental Horizon and Touching China. Her calm delivery made her one of the most familiar news presenters of her generation.
But Jing did not believe that simply passing through a place was enough. While discussing her 2025 essay collection Zou Guo, whose title means "to walk through," she explained that experience gained meaning only when it was joined by observation and reflection. The book followed the 24 traditional Chinese solar terms, connecting seasons and landscapes with memories from her work and personal life.
That approach also shaped the years after she left regular television work in 2015. Retirement gave her more freedom to write, visit museums and experiment with new forms of cultural storytelling. She continued publishing books and worked on short programs about museums and the changing seasons.
Jing once said that retirement naturally brought a sense of relaxation, but that people should still notice the things that excited them. When something stirred their interest, they should value it and make use of that energy. Otherwise, relaxation could slowly turn into a loss of direction.
Only a few months before her death, she spoke at a university graduation ceremony. She encouraged students to cherish moments of inspiration, communicate with others, adjust their perspective when life became difficult and keep looking for wise teachers.
The farewell ceremony brought together former colleagues and members of the public who had grown up hearing her voice. Yet the words above the hall did not ask them to remember a list of achievements. They returned instead to the idea that had shaped her later writing: a life becomes meaningful when a person walks through the world with attention.
For a journalist who spent decades listening to other people's stories, the sentence chosen for her farewell was simply a thank-you to the world that had given her so much to see, hear and record.