Spring breeze like you, shining, happy goddess festival!

From dawn to dusk, you measure the world with your feet, and weave the threads of life with your hands. You need not borrow anyone's light; you are the stars yourselves, shining in your own orbits. Those sweaty mornings, those nights of dialogue with the stars, will eventually turn into the brightest pearls in the river of life.

There is no need to chase the perfection of the secular definition, the fine lines in the corners of your eyes hide the calm of the years of precipitation, and the cocoon marks in the palm are engraved with the courage of breaking the cocoon into a butterfly. When the spring breeze blows across the field, you are the new shoots that break through the ground; When the autumn frost dyed red maple forest, you are proud of the red leaves on the branches. Each stage is a gift from fate and deserves to be embraced with the fullest gesture.

Look at the figure shuttling in the city skyline, the focused eyes in the laboratory, the chalk dust flying on the podium, the warm smile in the operating room - you use professionalism and enthusiasm, in their respective fields. Not confined to the traditional narrative framework, you are writing a new legend, making "her power" the most moving footnote of The Times.

May you not lose poetry in fuel, rice, oil and salt, and keep your original heart when you go through trials and hardships. Like bamboo in the wind and rain jointing growth, like plum blossom floating in the winter. When the tide of life comes, may you have both the courage to sail and the wisdom to berth in the harbor.

At this moment, let us raise our glasses to the dedication of those who revise the plan in the late night, to the sincerity of those who inspire the words on the podium, to the tenacity of those who search for the truth in the laboratory, and to all the women who create the extraordinary in the ordinary. You are the stars in the dark night, the dawn before the dawn, is the age of the river never faded.