Feeling China's heartbeat in the blue sky

The story I want to tell today took place above the blue sky of the Guangdong-Hong Kong-Macao Greater Bay Area.

Last November, as a special correspondent, I was on the frontline of the 15th China International Aviation & Aerospace Expo (the Zhuhai Airshow). Along with nearly 600,000 spectators, I witnessed a highlight for China’s aviation, aerospace and defense industries — a skyward spectacle that drew the world’s attention and vividly embodied Chinese strength and spirit.

The word “airshow” already implies something spectacular and “hard-core.” Indeed it was. Before I left, terms like the Air Force’s “Four Swordsmen” and the “Falling Leaf” maneuver meant nothing to me. So I read up, learning about these new-generation pieces of national hardware.

There was a time when we could only peer at other nations’ carrier-based aircraft from a distance and rely on armored fishing boats to carry our determination to defend the homeland. Today, the thunder of the J-35A ripping through the clouds and the cutting-edge electromagnetic catapult on the Fujian carrier command respect worldwide. But walking into the airshow and actually touching this chapter of ascent made me feel its weight more keenly than any article could. Seeing these machines up close filled me with solemn pride. When the massive roar announced the start of the flight displays, the nation’s heavyweight assets seemed to breathe and pulse. In that moment I heard my own heartbeat quicken — and worried my hands would be too slow to share these moving scenes.

After I clumsily sent out the first video, I felt suddenly proud: the people who once only peered from the sidelines are now riding the wind and breaking the waves.

In the days that followed, image after image, detail after detail struck me.

Under the blue sky, the J-35A pierced the heavens, announcing to the world that China has become the second country to put two types of stealth fighters into service. The “Red Eagle” painted a giant heart across the sky to celebrate the 75th birthday of the People’s Air Force. From “How beautiful!” to “I love you, China!” the cheers and gasps reflected a deep resonance between the people and their homeland — a mirror of loyalty and affection. In that moment I felt the tide of history, of a nation rising from awe to mastery.

I was also moved by the aviation fans keeping a 24-year promise. On the second day we filmed enthusiasts and military buffs and met Shenzhen devotee Chen Yuanhui, who hadn’t been to the airshow in 24 years. From the third to the fifteenth exhibition, he watched quietly. The planes and venues may have seemed backward at first, but now he’d come specifically to see the J-20 and J-35A he’d followed for years. When the flying display began, the rain suddenly intensified, yet more and more people crowded in. In the sea of black-clad spectators, Chen raised his camera high. Having witnessed China’s steady climb in scale and speed over 24 years, I imagined how thrilled and proud he must have felt.

Online viewers struck me, too. Under our short videos, many praised space heroes, engineers and the great motherland. Whether in the stands or on the other side of a screen, I felt their eager gaze and burning hearts. The strength we all admire is supported by every Chinese person’s dedication and by generations of aviation and aerospace workers.

Looking back on those airshow days, I felt like a curious child, greedily recording everything my lens could capture and sending it out. We filmed space hero Tang Hongbo, Xu Fengcan performing in the Z-20, and the technical and industrial power of Shenzhen manifesting on those great machines.

Late at night, writing my copy, a line came to mind: “In a single day the roc rises with the wind and soars 90,000 miles.” Indeed, what we saw was more than the ascent of warplanes; it was a grand painting of a people pressing forward through the waves.

The airshow taught me much. It was the audience who guided me to discover and document those heart-stirring moments. My words and footage would then return to a wider public. A reporter is like a bridge: connecting people and helping weave the stories of our new era.

Standing here now — without the roar of fighter jets — those scenes remain vivid. I remember a foreign officer who asked for a photo with us; though we didn’t share a common language, he told me in imperfect English: “China’s planes are great!” I remember the cheers that erupted whenever a plane took off. Follow the crowd’s gaze and you can see the direction of China’s air force.

All of this reinforces my mission and responsibility: to be a good reporter — and to learn to tell China’s stories well, to tell them faithfully, and to tell them in ways that matter.