On the morning of July 11, the atmosphere in the news room felt different. Han Zhao, often called \"Tiaozi,\" sat there with red eyes, his phone screen filled with question marks. Just the day before, they had said goodbye to Yang Shaohua, who passed away at 94. His departure was sudden, and everyone was still in shock. There was the farewell from the xiangsheng (Chinese comedy) world, and the many viewers who wanted to know how the old man spent his final days, and how he passed away.
He left peacefully, as though he was simply falling asleep. Han Zhao said, his voice hoarse. That noon, Yang Shaohua had woken up from his nap, felt thirsty, and complained of dizziness. His family asked if he needed to go to the hospital, and he nodded. But before they reached the hospital, he was gone. The doctor said they could still try to save him, but the family, after discussing, decided against it. He was 94, frail, and thin as a skeleton; any further attempts would have been a burden. Han Zhao said, “This way of passing was a blessing for the old man.”
The news about the ribbon-cutting event stirred a lot of controversy. On July 9, the weather in Tianjin was scorching, and Yang Shaohua, sitting in a wheelchair, was pushed to the opening ceremony of a new restaurant run by his godson. Everyone knew the godson, and the old man wanted to take a look. He stayed for just a minute before returning home. Tiaozi explained that his family was just following social customs, and the elderly man himself enjoyed joining in the fun. After returning home, he had his lunch and went for his usual nap. But after waking up, he felt dizzy again and agreed to go to the hospital. His family didn’t think much of it; after all, at his age, who would have expected him to leave so suddenly?
Yet, many netizens were not convinced. Some criticized the family for letting him go out in such heat, while others claimed they were exploiting the old man. Some even questioned if, before his death, his family was too busy making short videos and promoting products, ignoring his real condition. Tiaozi shook his head and laughed bitterly in the news room, “You really don’t understand. The old man wanted to go out. If he stayed cooped up at home, it would have been even harder for him. He loved being around people.”
In fact, Han Zhao was well aware of the old man’s physical condition. On July 4, when Tiaozi returned to Tianjin from Sanya, he invited Yang Shaohua to lunch. The dishes he ordered were soft and easy to eat, as the elderly man could no longer use chopsticks. Han Zhao fed him bite by bite. Yang Shaohua whispered, “I can hear what you’re saying, but you can’t hear me. I don’t have the strength to talk anymore. I’m tired.” Tiaozi reassured him, “You don’t need to speak. I understand everything just by looking at you. What matters most is that you’re happy.”
After the meal, when Han Zhao was about to help him to the car, Yang Shaohua tightly grasped his hand and didn’t let go. Tiaozi leaned over and kissed the old man’s face. He smiled without making a sound, but his eyes showed pure joy. Eventually, he slowly let go of Tiaozi’s hand and waved goodbye. Little did he know, that would be their last farewell. The photograph they took that day became an eternal memento: the old man sitting in the chair, Tiaozi holding him from behind, like a grandson with his grandfather.
The responses from netizens were mixed. Some praised Tiaozi for his genuine affection, saying the old man treated him like family. Others suspected it was just another publicity stunt to gain followers. Some felt sorry for the elderly man, believing that at 94, he should have stayed home and rested. And then, there were the harsh voices: “Where were you all when he was alive? Now that he’s gone, you’re all so sad. Why didn’t you do more back then?” But Tiaozi wasn’t bothered. “Every time I returned to Tianjin, I’d visit him. He always enjoyed spending time with me. We never took many photos together, but that one from that day became a keepsake.”
Recently, the family had removed almost all videos of Yang Shaohua from the internet, especially those related to product promotions. Some speculated it was due to guilt, others believed they were trying to avoid further public scrutiny. The family explained that those videos were filmed while the old man was still in good spirits, never anticipating his sudden departure. People may gossip, but the family knew better. Yang Shaohua’s wife, Meng Zhen, also posted a comment that caught netizens' attention. “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Yang Shaohua wasn’t a bad man. After he left, the difficulties started, but what can we do? It’s all helplessness.”
Tiaozi was very candid in the news room: “The old man was like a nearly burnt-out oil lamp. In his last days, his hands and feet were weak, and he spoke with difficulty. At 94, his body had aged naturally. No amount of discussion could change that. That day, when he was feeling dizzy and agreed to go to the hospital, maybe it was just his final instinct to survive. But at his age, so many things are beyond human control.”
The old man loved socializing, having meals with younger generations, and occasionally appearing in front of the camera. These were all his own choices. Many believed the elderly should stay home and rest, but no one has the right to decide how an elderly person should live their life. Tiaozi made it clear, “He loved being around people. When he was with us, he was truly happy.”
Over the years, Yang Shaohua left behind not product promotions or trending topics, but an attitude toward life. At 94, he still smiled, still appeared in front of the camera, and still enjoyed gatherings with friends. His love for life is something no one can replicate. Whether it was for money or not, it was about enjoying life. This wasn’t just a joke in his xiangsheng performances; it was his profound understanding of life.
As for the controversies, let them fade away with the wind. The old man has passed peacefully, and that’s enough. Those who questioned or criticized him were simply viewing things from their own perspectives. Those who truly knew him were the ones who shared meals, conversations, and moments with him.
Yang Shaohua’s life was one of ups and downs. On stage, he brought joy to audiences, and in life, he experienced both the warmth and coldness of human relationships. In the end, he passed peacefully without machines or ICU struggles, surrounded by family, and with friends bidding him farewell. This kind of departure is more dignified than anything else. Tiaozi said, “This was a huge blessing for the old man.”
Life is uncertain; we never know when the last meeting will be. That photo, that meal, and that last whisper of tiredness have become memories that cannot be relived. But in truth, what the old man left behind was a spirit of openness, optimism, and a freedom that was not bound by outside pressures.
Yang Shaohua, at 94, left us with his smile, his liveliness, and the deep affection of those who loved him. Tiaozi wipes his tears in the news room, while netizens chat in the comments section. Everyone mourns him in their own way. The xiangsheng stage loses an old comedian, but life now carries a lingering fondness for him.
Should the elderly have stayed in complete rest, been accompanied more? There’s no definitive answer to this question. What matters is living in the moment, being present with those you love. The controversy will pass, but the story remains. Yang Shaohua’s joy, his generosity, and his zest for life will continue to burn brightly in the hearts of many.
