The oath of being in the same robe as my son was eventually defeated by the fate of belonging to both sides of the Taiwan Strait.
In the spring of 1937, when the storm was about to come, the story of Lu He and Chen Zhang was full of farewell rhymes from the beginning.
They are duckweeds in troubled times, relying on each other for a short time in the torrent of war.
They divided their labors and went their separate ways at the crossroads of the times.
Forty years later, I revisited my old place. Only the Suzhou river remained the same, silently telling the long spring about love and separation, faith and sacrifice, which belonged to an entire generation.
