HE
A theater stage holds a thousand joys and sorrows.
But isn't life beneath the stage just as full of endless stories?
Hong Ying was momentarily dazed.
She'd thought the play of her life had ended seven or eight years ago.
Who could have guessed it was only just beginning?
That is the good fortune of this age:
If it can make room for strange and wondrous tales from time immemorial,
then surely it can make room for the love story of one ordinary woman.
A short story of the same type, "A Note of Hu Jia," is available in the author's column.
Reading note:
This was written early on, and the imitation of Zhang Ailing's style is quite obvious. [Sorry for piggybacking on her name.]
Theme: .
