The turmoil and tragic romances of the Republican era.
Let history be the thread that weaves an untold tale, and the passing years the thread that weaves a story of meetings and partings.
Someone once crossed a courtyard awash in late-spring colors and stepped toward a young man in the garden.
And so the story began, in the fourteenth year of the Republic.
My surname is Zhang. My family is from Wuhan. By a happy twist of fate, I find myself here on account of a few minor matters.
Such a handsome young man. What could he have done to make his teacher so furious?
I believe this young man will go far. Might I be so fortunate as to learn his name?
Suzhou is blessed with beautiful scenery, and this young man is handsome, too. Why not name him Suzhou? What do you think, sir?
But we can never go back.
Suzhou in that year, the spring breeze of that year, the fourteenth year of the Republic we can never return to.
The hills have trees, and the trees have branches.
