'Just Imagine I'm Off on a Trip': A Shanghai Father's Last Lesson in Letting Go

A recent Douyin (Chinese version of TikTok) video about "death education" has deeply moved millions.

It records a heartfelt conversation between a 90s-born Shanghai woman and her terminally ill father – a man who faced death with rare calmness and wisdom.

"Maybe I've only got three to six months left," he told his daughter after being diagnosed with late-stage pancreatic cancer that had spread to his liver and lymphatic system.

There was no panic, no despair. Instead, he spoke gently, preparing her for what is to come.

"I'll become thinner and smaller, until I'm just a small handful of ash," he said. "Both ends of life are cruel but inevitable. If it's not now, it will come ten years later."

In her latest video posted on Tuesday, Dong Sanbai shared that after several months of chemotherapy and radiotherapy, her father's condition had shown little improvement. Having endured the side effects of treatment, he decided to stop further therapy and spend his remaining days free from pain.

He wanted his daughter to accept death as a part of life. "We come to this world with nothing and leave with nothing. Don't be too sad about what can't be changed."

Speaking in local Shanghainese dialect, he offered comfort through metaphor:

"Just think of me as setting off on a trip. As long as I'm in your heart, I'll come back."

The line – "off on a trip" – became a tender refrain online, with thousands of comments thanking the father for showing that death can also be peaceful.

"Thank you for teaching us that saying goodbye is part of life," one wrote.

More than his own fate, the father worried about his daughter's sorrow.

"You should still travel, enjoy good food, dress up – that's your life," he reminded her. "Live normally, live happily."

As the video went viral, the daughter began sharing more about her father's life. Born in 1958 to a modest family in Shanghai's former Nanhui District, he taught himself Japanese after long factory shifts, later earning a place at Shanghai International Studies University. He eventually founded his own clothing business – a dream born from his childhood fascination with the suited men he once saw crossing the downtown Garden Bridge.

At 35, he built his company; a decade later, he sold his shares to pursue freedom. "You can never earn enough money," he told his daughter, "but you only live once."

In his later years, he lived quietly – fishing, traveling, reading, listening to symphonies – and often reminded his daughter to think independently and live boldly. "Rules are man-made – they can be broken," he would say. "Have your own values and never be bound by others' opinions."

In February, after learning of his diagnosis, the daughter quit her job to accompany him.

"Rather than just being with him," she wrote, "I wanted to become him – someone free, strong, and at peace."

Her father's calm acceptance has become a lesson not only for her, but for many strangers who watched him and his words.

"Just imagine I'm off on a trip," he said again. "As long as I'm in your heart, I'll come back."