What could you let go of, for the sake of harmony?

When I was younger, I firmly believed in the saying, “Truth prevails wherever it goes.”

At work, I valued technical skills and competence above all else—because that was fair, logical, and aligned with what I believed to be right.

But as the years passed, I gradually came to realize something:

In real life, feelings and relationships often matter far more than logic or truth.

In Taiwan, the media landscape can be frustrating.

Many outlets lean toward political or financial interests, going so far as to distort facts or spread misinformation to serve a particular agenda.

Some of my friends and family have been deeply influenced by such media.

They lack a rational perspective—but I’ve come to accept that arguing with them won’t change anything.

Debates don’t bring us closer. They often drive us further apart.

A recent incident involving China Airlines in Taiwan reminded me of this again.

Due to poor decisions, a passenger plane flew for nearly five hours with only one engine before landing safely—an event that sparked public concern.

I have friends who work at China Airlines, and during our conversations, they tried to defend the company.

But I could feel their helplessness too—

some things are known by everyone, even internally, but simply can’t be spoken aloud.

Sometimes, they even have to defend decisions they don’t personally agree with.

That’s when I understood even more clearly:

Not every silence means agreement, and not every defense comes from the heart.

We’re still family. We’re still friends. We still live and work together.

Even if we disagree, life must go on.

Rather than fixating on who’s right, I’d rather focus on what we still share, and what’s still worth preserving.

For the sake of harmony, I’ve chosen to let go of being right.

Not because I no longer care about truth—but because I care even more about people.

What is your favorite genre of music?

Back in my student days, I listened to a lot of music. That period more or less shaped my taste—and most of the songs I love now trace back to what I heard back then.

I tend to prefer songs in Japanese, English, and Chinese. Honestly, I once got the most basic Japanese certification, but I still can’t really understand what the lyrics are saying 😆. And yet, the melodies just sound so good.

Songs like “Sekai ga Owaru made wa…” from Slam Dunk still fill me with energy. Detective Conan has countless opening and ending themes—each one feels like a little time capsule of growing up. And even now, I still remember the thrill of those Future GPX Cyber Formula soundtracks.

It wasn’t just anime, either. J-dramas had some unforgettable theme songs. Crying Out Love in the Center of the World, Under One Roof, Orange Days… all of them had soundtracks full of romance, sorrow, and pure youthful emotion. Even if I forget the plot, once the music plays, everything comes flooding back.

When it comes to English songs, movies played a huge role. Way Back Into Love from Music and Lyrics, the emotional ballads from Armageddon and Deep Impact—they became the emotional background music of my memories. Then there’s Amazing Grace, or ABBA’s Happy New Year—songs that carry a sense of ritual, like time suddenly rewinding.

Even though I don’t consider myself good at English, I somehow manage to understand some lyrics. Not everything, of course—but sometimes one line is enough to hit you right in the heart. Maybe the melody and emotion get there first, and the meaning follows.

Maybe not fully understanding some lyrics actually helps me focus on the music itself. No need to analyze or interpret—just listen, and feel. It’s a simple kind of joy.

To this day, I still go back to those old songs from my school days. They’re like a soundtrack that never fades, playing quietly in the background as I move through life.

Describe your most memorable vacation.

Today I saw the news: the Shinmoedake volcano in Kagoshima, Japan, has erupted. And it immediately brought back memories of one of my most joyful and unforgettable trips — a group tour to Kagoshima.

It was my first time traveling abroad after the COVID pandemic. Everything felt a bit unfamiliar, but also especially precious.

What I remember most was the hotel, not far southwest of where the volcano erupted — Castle Hotel.

The room was unbelievably spacious: a Western-style living area, a balcony, a tatami sitting room, and a separate tatami bedroom. I still remember walking in and doing a few excited laps around the room, like a kid seeing a hotel for the first time.

During those days in Kagoshima, I soaked in hot springs almost every day. The hotel had its own facilities, so I could relax without having to go anywhere else.

And I even tried Kagoshima’s unique sand bath — being buried in warm sand with only my head exposed. It felt strange at first, but deeply soothing, like being gently embraced by nature.

Kagoshima is quiet, clean, and comforting. Those few days remain vivid in my memory. Seeing images of smoke and lava on the news now feels surreal. The calm back then and the tension now — such a stark contrast.

Maybe that’s what travel really is — moments that stay with you, resurfacing in the most unexpected times.

May Kagoshima stay safe.

On what subject(s) are you an authority?

Technical skills are essential in the MIS role—system integration, app development, AI implementation, and even teaching quality tools like Six Sigma. Versatility is expected, adaptability is necessary.

But none of that matters without trust.

Trust isn’t built through certificates or flashy tools. It’s earned through careful work, consistent delivery, and a quiet respect for what must remain confidential.

Not everything goes smoothly. Issues arise. Mistakes happen. What matters is staying present, responding honestly, and taking responsibility.

Confidentiality is non-negotiable. With access to sensitive systems, privileged conversations, and strategic data, silence becomes part of the job.

Transparency solves problems; discretion protects relationships.

There’s no badge for professional integrity. But it’s what makes a technician a trusted partner.

Because the true role of an MIS isn’t just maintaining systems—

It’s quietly upholding the trust that keeps everything running.

What’s your definition of romantic?

Romance, to me, is the joyful rhythm of life shared with your partner.

It’s thinking of all the little things that might make her smile—

a thoughtful surprise, a kind word, her favorite drink on a busy day.

It’s knowing how she feels, understanding her moods,

and giving her small moments of warmth

through words and actions she loves—

with just the right touch of your own personality.

And of course, it wouldn’t be complete

without those spontaneous, heartfelt words that catch her off guard

and stay with her all day.

Romance isn’t about setting the mood.

It’s about showing that you care, consistently, sincerely,

in ways only the two of you understand.

Happy wife, happy life.

How do you express your gratitude?

We say “thank you” a lot — sometimes out of habit, sometimes because someone helped us.

It’s a simple gesture that makes everyday life a bit softer.

But over time, I’ve realized some forms of gratitude are quieter.

They’re not about words, and they’re not always directed at someone.

Sometimes, they’re just a quiet feeling — toward life, the world, or whatever force seems to hold things together when we need it most.

People often show gratitude with things — a gift, a coffee, a note.

It’s a kind way to respond.

But gifts can also carry an unspoken sense of balance: you helped me, I owe you something back. That doesn’t make them less sincere, just a little more measured.

Still, some things can’t be repaid.

A word, a gesture — maybe long forgotten by the one who gave it — might stay with us for years.

And in those cases, I just hope they’re doing well.

That simple: “May they be okay.”

Even if we never meet again, that feeling stays.

No noise, no display —

just a quiet reminder that some things are worth remembering.