Zheng Yaling (right) and Zhou Zhou take a selfie together at the Taipei 101 skyscraper in Taipei, Taiwan, on Dec 7, 2024. [Photo / China Daily]

About a month ago, a video of me went viral online. Here is what happened: on Nov 28, table tennis legend Ma Long and a delegation organized by the Ma Ying-jeou Foundation visited my school, Chengchi University in Taiwan.

The campus buzzed with excitement as throngs of students gathered to catch a glimpse of the Olympic champion, and I was among them. As Ma Long arrived, I couldn't help but shout, "My mom says you're so handsome!"

That moment was captured on video and soon spread across social media in both Taiwan and the Chinese mainland.

When I first saw the video trending, I felt a mix of surprise and joy. It wasn't just about being noticed — it was the thought that my lighthearted comment resonated with so many people.

I even received messages from strangers on both sides of the Strait, expressing hopes that more mainland athletes might visit Taiwan in the future.

The magic of sports lies in its ability to foster unity and interaction, enabling deep and genuine connections through shared effort and laughter.

I vividly recall my experience during last year's Dragon Boat Festival in Guangdong, where I participated in a cross-Strait exchange program.

My teammates included students from both Taiwan and the mainland. They paddled in sync with the rhythm of shouted commands. As the drummer, every beat I called out was met with the full effort of everyone on board. The trust and coordination we shared made us feel like one single entity.

After the race, we sat together on the riverbank, exchanging stories while eating zongzi (sticky rice dumplings), the traditional treat of the festival. At that moment, I realized that sports offer more than just the fleeting joys of victory — they create a profound sense of belonging and build emotional bridges across the Strait.

Beyond sports, these emotional connections are also woven into the details of everyday life.

Zhou Zhou, an exchange student from the Communication University of China in Beijing, told me that Taiwan's warm hospitality is one of the main reasons why mainland visitors find it so captivating.

He recounted two heartwarming stories. One rainy evening in Taipei, when he was stranded outside the campus without an umbrella, a passing couple noticed and kindly offered theirs, refusing to take it back. They simply said, "Pass it on to someone in need." Another time, Zhou wanted to have one last meal of soup dumplings before leaving Taipei, but the restaurant had already closed. Recognizing him as a regular, the owners reopened the kitchen and prepared a fresh batch just for him.

During my studies at Hunan University in Changsha, Hunan province, from 2020 to 2024, I was often touched by the small, thoughtful gestures of my friends from the mainland.

My roommates, who came from Hubei, Shanghai, and Zhejiang, frequently shared homemade snacks that gave me a taste of their hometowns: Hubei's fragrant rice wine cakes, Zhejiang's crispy Jinhua ham pastries, and Shanghai's iconic crab shell pies.

One especially memorable moment was during the Mid-Autumn Festival when a professor invited me to her home to gaze at the moon and enjoy mooncakes.

It reminded me of similar family gatherings back in Taiwan, where we would sit together in the courtyard, also savoring mooncakes and admiring the full moon. The shared traditions across the Strait reflected our deep cultural bond. That evening, surrounded by such warmth, I felt truly at home, even though I was miles away from my own family.

I believe it's these subtle emotional connections — whether it's a Taiwan mother cheering for Ma Long or a mainland student being enchanted by Taiwan's gentle human touch — that form the most precious bonds across the Taiwan Strait. They don't rely on grand speeches or elaborate rituals; instead, they arise naturally from genuine interactions and heartfelt experiences, drawing us closer together.