In the winter of 1937, on a cold night after the fall of Shanghai, the lights in the deep alleys flickered on and off, like the weak remaining breath of the city. Su Jinheng was a female student at St. John's University. She wore a dress and held a collection of poems, thinking that her days would always be immersed in the warm fragrance of books. Until the iron hoofs of the Japanese army crushed the false peace in the concession, her father died tragically on a bayonet to protect precious ancient books, and her mother became seriously ill and lay in bed coughing up blood, and her world instantly collapsed into scorched earth.
The deep alleys became her refuge, but they were also a hotbed of crime - the grins of traitors, the gunshots of invaders, and the lamentations of refugees echoed among the bricks and tiles day and night. She once curled up in a corner and trembled, watching the shadows swallow up the last ray of sunlight; she also clenched her fists on rainy nights, her nails digging into her palms and bleeding. By chance, she bumped into an underground worker delivering information in an abandoned house, and was involved in the whirlpool of life and death.
From the initial fear of escaping, to the anger of witnessing the wanton slaughter of his compatriots, to taking the initiative to take the embroidered handkerchief containing information, Su Jinheng's transformation was tempered in the flames of war. She used an embroidery needle to sew secret messages into her clothes, and walked through the streets as a flower girl, hiding the determination in her eyes with her gentle brows. In the shadows of the deep alleys, she has seen the despicability and greed of human nature, as well as the glimmer and perseverance of her fellow travelers; she has heard the most piercing cries, and has kept the most silent life-and-death agreements.
