Sixty years later, Sheng Sixian recalled the ups and downs of her life and found that all the bonds seemed to have begun in the winter before she was born. On the far side of the ocean, it was still a feudal apocalyptic empire, swaying in the European wind and rain. Her birth, her growth, her love and hate, love and hatred, were all performed on this land. She was just a tiny wave in the grand wave of history, but in her own story, the vast river of time flowed slowly, and every ripple was sprinkled with shining golden light.