Lychees Are Red

In 1948, during the troubled times in southern Fujian, Lin Xiulian, who had lived in the Chen family since she was a child, was 24 years old. When she and her husband got married, they planted a lychee sapling, hoping that the fruit tree would remain green and they would stay together forever. Unexpectedly, one month after their wedding, her husband fled across the sea overnight to avoid his young son. Since then, there has been no news from her, leaving only an orphan with her. She swallowed all the hardships caused by her mother-in-law, rumors from her neighbors, and being alone waiting for childbirth. Relying on this lychee tree, she gave birth to a posthumous daughter alone; she kindly adopted orphans in her lean years, and raised her two children with great care; she also supported her young uncle's education and success by farming and spinning, and supported the entire Chen family with her thin body. The lychee tree grows year after year, witnessing her hard work day and night, weeping late at night, and her unrealized expectations for decades in her life. The tide of the century is rolling forward, everything about the home and country is renewed, and the old love has long been a stranger. Lin Xiulian puts down her life's love and hate under the shade of a tree. The saplings grew into centuries-old trees, providing shade for four generations. At the age of 100, she sat quietly under the tree, looked at her children and grandchildren, and recounted the ups and downs that spanned the centuries of the Republic.