During the Republic of China, Yancheng, a small city, was like an old stage.
The streets are full of arcades, and the bluestone road echoes with the sound of traffic and horses. The hawkers' cries kept coming, the candied haws of sugar-coated haws were bright and attractive, and the wonton stalls were steaming hot.
Children from rich families go in and out of song and dance halls, while ordinary people run for food and clothing. The shadow of war often looms, and young men are forced to leave home, while their relatives long to return.
Yancheng, in the tide of the times, silently interprets the joys and sorrows of the world.
