Jiangzhou, this wharf city built on the river, has experienced ups and downs like the tides in the past thirty years. In the mist, the typefaces of newspapers beat out the signals of the times, and the machinery of the silk factory roared with youth and blood. The Chamber of Commerce and the military police shared the fat at the banquet, but in the streets, someone quietly passed around papers with wet ink. Xu Zhou, a newspaperman, walked from the dock in the morning fog into the torrent of history; Shen Ping, a female worker, walked from the roaring machine to the crack of the door in the shadow. Gu Liheng, Cheng Xiao, Lin Zhiji, Wei Changhe... They met and separated. Some were swallowed up by the times, and some survived by choice. Caught between turbulence and change, personal pain and desire, the city's honor, disgrace and fate are intertwined into a group portrait without absolute justice. Jiang Shui was silent but remembered everything.
