The deep courtyard cannot lock the changes of the times. Every falling sycamore leaf bears the mark of an era; every growth ring bears the persistence of a generation.
Shuyuan insisted on lighting up the beacon of education for her compatriots in an era when women's lack of talent was considered a virtue; Hanyan used her weak shoulders to support the fate of a family in the midst of war; Tongtong continued the memory of his bloodline with technology in the digital wave. In their own way, they interpret the tenacity and wisdom of Chinese women.
But the phoenix tree always stood silently. It has seen red makeup change into military uniforms, heard the sound of reading changing into the sound of guns, and witnessed separation and reunion, despair and hope. Its roots have already penetrated the masonry and soil, and are intertwined with the blood of this family.
In this chapter spanning 500,000 words, you will see not only the chronicle of a family, but also a microcosm of China over the past century. The secrets buried deep in the courtyard, the deep feelings engraved in the annual rings, and the vows that drifted in the wind but never left, will all be presented here.
Please follow me into this deep courtyard, touch the rough bark of the sycamore tree, and listen to the echoes in the depths of the years. Here, every fallen leaf is an unfinished poem, and every crack in the bricks hides a touching story.
And all of this starts with the young woman who vowed to open a girls' school under the sycamore tree...
