It was about seven or eight years ago that I first came across Ma Li’s writings. Back then, she just joined the Qianjiang Evening News and was assigned the culture beat.

Ma’s archeological reporting has been quite popular with readers, the secret of which is none other than her closeness to archeological sites: whenever new archeological findings are excavated, she is always among the first on the scene. Invariably humble and with a sense of propriety, Ma is one of those journalists that archeologists are willing to talk to. In each of her stories, Ma is able to dig out one or two “news nuggets” without fail from the archeologists’ impartial and even unemotional account, weave the ancient items into contemporary life and see the real people behind.

The last part, a highly prized skill, is hard to come by in practice. It is taken for granted that humans should be the focus of humanities. However, in different subjects, the concept of “humans” or “people”, greatly varies. In literature, they are the destinies and living conditions of concrete human beings. In historiography, they are either specific figures, such as Sima Guang and Yue Fei, or a collective, i.e., a group of people, such as official-scholars, farmers, merchants. It is much easier to turn the experiences of these people into good stories. That’s why 70%-80% of popular books are from literature and history. On the contrary, a big obstacle stands in the way of making archeological findings compelling stories. More often than not, in ancient ruins and relics, especially for pre-historical societies with no written records, there are no “people” to speak of. What there are, are usually “abstract human beings” in the anthropological sense. How to connect the pieces and fragments of antiquity, solve the jigsaw puzzle, and more importantly, put together a story that is relatable and palatable to contemporaries is a quite difficult task.

That’s precisely what Ma Li has accomplished. In her book 5,000 Years: Chronicles of the Liangzhu Kingdom, Liangzhu Ancient City’s cultural archeological history, its layout, its architecture, its tombs, its people and the bid for it to become a “World Heritage” are all described in vivid details, a reliable record of the “Liangzhu Story” and a template for effective communication. In other words, Ma has found a new way in turning scholarly pre-historical archeological research into something that an average reader can easily understand.

But it was not achieved overnight; the book is a result of the author’s many trials and tribulations.

Her writings back then were certainly unlike what they are today. Indeed, an aspiring author will most likely read his or her past writings with disdain, as their knowledge, tastes and even values change over time. Ma is no exception: she would often resent her immature early writings. One of the hallmarks of her reporting is the extensive use of internet slangs. Another is piggybacking on news events. These are common tricks in news reporting, the benefits of which are apparent: they are easily accessible to contemporary readers and can help them quickly, if superficially, understand the artefacts. The drawbacks are also obvious: internet slangs pop up as fast as they fade, and so do the news reports that rely heavily on them. Many journalists accept it with ease; after all, news is for the readers’ quick consumption, and no one will treat “newspapers” as classic books.

However, for Ma, and those like her, who aspires to be serious authors, writing in the conventional reporter’s way is far from enough. Whereas news reporters are expected to write in a much more accessible manner, in a serious field as archeology, authors are expected first and foremost to keep some distance away from the readers and write as independently, credibly and authoritatively, as possible.

It is this sense of distance that is the most difficult for an author to deal with, especially when presenting archeology to the general public. Too many internet slangs or whatever is in the vogue to pander to the current fad, the authors and their works may be perceived as too frivolous; too many jargons and too much academese, they risk turning away the readers.

What delights me most in 5,000 Years: Chronicles of the Liangzhu Kingdom is how the author has matured in handling the “distance”. Internet slangs are still used for sure, but only to the extent that they help aid the readers gain a deeper understanding of Liangzhu. When significant archeological findings were made, she was overjoyed; when the tomb of Shi Xin’geng, the first archeologist who had discovered the Liangzhu ruins, was still nowhere to be found, she was dejected; when Liangzhu Ancient City became a UNESCO world heritage, her commentary, in addition to her emotional feelings, has made the part a captivating read. Indeed, in the chapter “Looking for Shi Xin’geng”, Ma’s extensive interviews and thorough research undoubtedly impress; at the same time, her portrait of Shi, a patriot living in a period of turmoil, is destined to touch readers.

Science and humanity, empirical research and educated guesses, scholarly endeavor and daily life, in-depth investigation and plain language…the book has handled the balance deftly and Ma is now an indisputable first-class culture reporter and author.

Over the years, Ma has covered almost every major discovery of the Liangzhu ruins, and interviewed every major figure responsible for Liangzhu’s archeological survey, its protection and its bid to become the world heritage. She is a longtime observer, participant, narrator and communicator of the Liangzhu story. 5,000 Years: Chronicles of the Liangzhu Kingdom is the best gift that Ma the reporter and the author is now presenting to the readers.