In the spring of the twelfth year of the Republic of China, the Tang Di flowers in Qingxi Town bloomed like a thin snow. When her adopted daughter Shen Jingtang was pounding clothes by the stream, she met a strange man from Peiping. He said that the indigo on her hands was dyed with indigo, that the birthmark on her wrist was not a birthmark, and that her parents did not die in the fire.
Overnight, her life experience became a mystery, her marriage became a game, and her life became a chess piece in the hands of others.
From the water town in the south of the Yangtze River to Shanghai, from the dyehouse cellar to the French Concession prison cell, she learned to dye cloth, shoot a gun, lie, and also learn to love someone. Some people took bullets for her, some were crazy about her, and some planted a Tang Di tree behind her and said: I will come back when the flowers bloom.
This is the story of a woman who waited twenty-three years for spring.
Reader comments
The sentences are vivid and the story is exciting, waiting for updates [Thoughts]
He stood between the two of them, his tone as stiff as a brick thrown at them.
So apt [like]
The sentences are vivid and the story is exciting, waiting for updates [Thoughts] He stood between the two of them, his tone as stiff as a brick thrown at them. So apt [like]