A conversation at the vegetable market reminded me of what the art of living truly means.

That day, I paused in front of a vegetable stall, watching an elderly man carefully arrange greens and radishes day after day. His business was steady but unremarkable, yet he never missed a day. Curious, I asked, "With such a simple routine, why do you insist on coming every day?"

The old man put down his basket, a thoughtful look flashing in his eyes. His answer instantly made me understand.

It turns out that every minute in front of the stall is a carefully crafted way of life. His daughter-in-law brings lunch regularly, and his wife prepares dinner to wait for him. This seemingly simple daily cycle is actually a clever form of "hedging"—he uses the stall as a reason to weave a safety net.

If he stayed at home idly, things would be completely different. Time would become a burden, and one might fall into a state of aimlessness. His daughter-in-law’s gaze might carry more dissatisfaction, and his wife’s nagging would become the background noise of the household. Those trivial family conflicts are like accumulated dust, becoming harder and harder to clean.

But the vegetable stall is different. It’s an outlet, a reason, a stage to maintain a sense of value. Here, the old man is not an idle senior, but someone with responsibility and purpose. Whether business is good or bad doesn’t matter. The key is that he has found a position that keeps him feeling needed within his family relationships.

This is not escapism, but a form of life wisdom. The old man uses his basket and vegetables to demonstrate how middle-aged and elderly people can create the greatest sense of fulfillment within limited choices. This realization is worth everyone’s reflection.