From the middle of 1939 to the middle of 1940, Qin Siyu continued his studies, kept supporting China’s resistance to Japan, and began his final year of clinical rotations. He went through internal medicine, surgery, obstetrics and gynecology, pediatrics, and other departments.
He took these pregraduation rotations extremely seriously. This might be his only opportunity to properly memorize the knowledge and skills of all the other specialties. Once he’d chosen his future direction, he would need to devote himself to that one field.
Before graduating in May 1940, Qin Siyu chose surgery.
He then applied to and entered San Francisco General Hospital as a resident, beginning his medical career.
He did not yet have a medical license.
In other words, he did not yet truly qualify to practice medicine, nor had he reached a fully professional standard.
He still wasn’t ready.
The hospital was a public institution in the city center, offering rigorous physician training and exposure to a great many cases. Its patients came from diverse backgrounds, with a wider variety of experiences and illnesses. A private hospital’s more uniform clientele, by contrast, was not as favorable for a young doctor’s development.
At San Francisco General Hospital, trainees had to complete four years of training before becoming full physicians.
The first year was a probationary period as an Assistant Resident, followed by Junior Resident in the second year, Senior Resident in the third, and Chief Resident in the fourth, with promotion at each stage.
Once the first probationary year had been passed, a trainee could register for the California medical licensing examination.
Qin Siyu was eager to move forward, but the situation changed again.
About six months into his probationary year, Qin Siyu’s supervising physician began training and employing him as though he were already a Junior Resident.
In a hospital, actual ability mattered. If he could handle the work, he should do it.
Qin Siyu entered the hospital in May 1940, and at precisely that time patient numbers were rising again.
In November 1939, the United States revised the Neutrality Act and began selling weapons, which Britain and France bought in large quantities. More importantly, in March 1940 the Lend-Lease Act was passed, allowing other countries to rent weapons as well. Industry consequently began operating at full speed, and more factory workers were injured. At the same time, mass hiring improved the national economy, giving workers better incomes and companies better insurance, so more people sought medical care.
Elio’s Notes: The original chronology puts the Lend-Lease Act in March 1940. In actual U.S. history, the Lend-Lease Act was signed on March 11, 1941; this is a historical dating discrepancy in the source, not a change to the narrative. Source: U.S. National Archives, Lend-Lease Act (1941).
San Francisco, as a port city, experienced these effects even more strongly.
His supervising doctor told Qin Siyu, “If you can do the work, then do it!”
“I can,” Qin Siyu promised. “And if I can’t, then I’ll learn.”
His supervisor was extremely capable and taught Qin Siyu a great deal.
Within half a year, by the middle of 1941, Qin Siyu had even mastered everything a Junior Resident was supposed to do, and they began treating him as a Senior Resident.
Also in the middle of 1941, Qin Siyu passed his examination, received his license, and officially became qualified to practice medicine.
Suyu, meanwhile, had stayed at Yale to attend law school, beginning in 1937.
She returned to San Francisco for internships during vacations. Qin Siyu recommended her to the elderly lawyer he’d once worked for as a typist. The lawyer trusted him and hired Suyu as an assistant.
The result was… a truly peculiar relationship between mentor and student.
The old lawyer loved scolding people and made no distinction on the basis of sex or race; he scolded everyone equally. Qin Siyu had always been able to soothe him, but Lin Suyu had a different temperament. The two constantly argued fiercely and attacked momentary weaknesses in each other’s reasoning. At first Qin Siyu feared the lawyer would dismiss Suyu and tried to intervene and break up their quarrels. Later, when he realized the old man seemed to admire her, he stopped wasting his time on them.
In 1939 America held two world’s fairs, but everyone paid attention to the one in New York and neglected San Francisco’s, because New York’s was livelier.
In Europe, Germany invaded Prague in March 1939 and occupied the remaining territories of Czechoslovakia. A European war was imminent.
Poland was obviously the next target, and Britain and France promised to “protect” it.
In August, Germany and the Soviet Union signed a nonaggression pact, seemingly dividing up their spheres of influence.
On September first, Germany launched a lightning attack on Poland. Two days later, Britain and France declared war. At last, war had broken out.
A few days afterward Hitler delivered a speech. The German he spoke sounded cold, merciless, and full of hatred. In countries outside Germany, everyone who heard him felt their hair stand on end.
In the United States, Roosevelt appointed a new Army chief of staff. While continuing to proclaim “neutrality,” he began expanding the armed forces. In fact, the buildup had started in 1938, after it became clear that the Depression had crippled industry and left military equipment badly outdated.
By 1940 Germany was attacking Western Europe and appeared, on the surface, unstoppable.
In April Germany invaded Denmark and Norway, and in May it attacked the Netherlands, Belgium, and Luxembourg. None escaped.
After the evacuation from Dunkirk, the British Expeditionary Force and some other Allied troops withdrew to Britain.
France surrendered in June, and the Battle of Britain began in July.
Public attitudes continued shifting throughout 1939 and 1940.
Americans wanted to help Britain. Their isolationist attitude moved from “stay away” to “at least do something.” They still didn’t want to enter the war but believed Britain needed assistance.
Surveys showed that between the middle and end of 1940, the proportion favoring “avoid entering the war” fell from roughly sixty-four percent to forty percent, while those favoring “help Britain even at the risk of war” rose from roughly thirty-six percent to sixty percent.
Stories kept arriving. One media report said that on the day Athens fell, Nazi soldiers ordered a Greek soldier to lower the flag from the Acropolis. He quietly brought down the blue-and-white flag, wrapped it around himself, walked to the edge, and leaped from the citadel.
Elio’s Notes: The text presents the fall-of-Athens anecdote while discussing American sentiment in 1940. German troops occupied Athens on April 27, 1941, so the setting is chronologically compressed. The account of a Greek soldier jumping from the Acropolis is a circulated story rather than an event independently established by the cited official record. The original fictional account is retained. Sources: U.S. Office of the Historian, report on Athens in 1941; Greek National Historical Museum.
Increasing numbers of people also began to realize that isolationism couldn’t last, and the United States simply could not remain outside the conflict.
Late in 1940, Roosevelt was elected president again, embarking on his third term.
In China, Guangzhou had fallen in October 1938, deeply shaking San Francisco’s Chinatown and other Chinese communities.
Many residents came from Guangdong and still had relatives and friends there. Everyone felt shocked and enraged, but also frightened and helpless.
One piece of good news was that the Burma Road had been substantially completed and was immediately put to use, making it easier for China to obtain supplies.
In the first half of 1939, Nanchang fell, but Chinese forces kept counterattacking and fighting.
In the second half of the year Japan’s attack on Changsha failed and its troops withdrew. Japan had committed one hundred thousand soldiers only to suffer defeat. For the first time since the beginning of the resistance, China had successfully held an important city against a major Japanese offensive. Chinatown organized a “Victory Celebration,” complete with lanterns, gatherings, and theatrical performances.
Then came the Battle of South Guangxi and the fall of Nanning, followed by the counteroffensive at Kunlun Pass and a major victory. In January and February 1940, Japan counterattacked and Chinese forces reluctantly withdrew. But in October and November China launched another offensive, recovered the lost ground, and expelled Japanese troops from Guangxi, preserving the province as a route of communication with the outside world.
Meanwhile, in the winter of 1939, Chinese forces launched large-scale counteroffensives across several theaters, showing no sign of collapse after the fall of Wuhan.
By 1940 the Eighth Route Army and New Fourth Army had established numerous bases of resistance, fighting while expanding their strength. The Eighth Route Army initially operated mainly in northern China, while the New Fourth Army was active mostly in central China. From late 1938 to late 1940 they fought thousands of engagements against Japanese forces.
In August 1940, the Eighth Route Army launched the Hundred Regiments Offensive, breaking through enemy containment and damaging Japanese-controlled transport and communications networks in northern China.
As for Qin Siyu, he continued his studies, his work, and his many relief activities, all while staying together with Aston.
After graduation, around the turn from summer to autumn in 1940, Aston suddenly took Qin Siyu to the beach where they had run into each other in the summer of 1932.
Enjoying a rare moment of relaxation, Qin Siyu walked along the shore, feeling the sea breeze and the sand beneath his feet.
Only after walking a little while did Qin Siyu belatedly remember that the day they had encountered each other on this beach had been… exactly eight years earlier!
Exactly eight years to the day!
Even the time of day was almost the same, just as the sun was setting.
The scenery had changed slightly over those eight years.
The ocean was still broad and smooth. The golden light was fading, while orange-red light spread across the sky and the clouds appeared magnificent. The deep blue sea stirred gently. The sun was round and bright, giving off the last of its warmth, and a golden line of reflected light swayed across the water with the sea breeze.
But back then there had been nothing but a wide expanse of sea. Now the Golden Gate Bridge had been built and stood high overhead. The sun hung between its two towers, beneath which the orange-red span connected the shores.
Eight years, Qin Siyu thought. It really has been eight years.
The view here was different now.
So were the two of them. They had both left university and started working. Qin Siyu had realized his dream and become a doctor, joining a large hospital where he would soon begin his probationary residency. Aston had started his career long before and independently underwritten several bond offerings, including major bonds and important government projects. He was already one of America’s “star bankers,” having been promoted to vice president the previous year.
But the greatest difference of all was…
Qin Siyu looked at the man beside him. Those blue eyes were filled with deep affection.
On this evening eight years earlier, Aston had politely tapped his shoulder twice and said, “It seems you have something belonging to me.” Then he’d calmly raised his wrist and held out his hand to reclaim his watch, elegant and aloof, before offering ten dollars as a reward once he’d fastened it back on. As for Qin Siyu, he’d returned several dollars and handed over a seashell, finally ensuring that neither owed the other anything, before wrapping his clothes more tightly around himself and leaving.
And now? They had long since become a couple.
The two strangers from that time kissed and embraced each other every day. They often spent whole nights making love wildly, feeling each other’s presence, before falling asleep locked in one another’s arms, their breathing mingling.
Every morning they woke in each other’s embrace and began a new day.
Before meeting Aston, Qin Siyu had never known he could love another person this much.
He knew Aston felt the same.
The man he’d met then… They had already promised to share everything in this lifetime, even life and death.
Everything really had changed.
They were both homosexual now, both men who loved men.
As for the world itself, it too had undergone tremendous change.
“Seany,” Aston asked, “do you remember where exactly we met?”
“Of course.”
Qin Siyu examined the surroundings: at the time they met, that tree had been there… that building had stood there… that street, that road…
How strange that his memories were so clear.
Even though they’d been strangers back then, and he hadn’t even known Aston’s name, he’d somehow instinctively engraved everything he saw into his eyes and into his heart.
Loving Aston truly seemed like an instinct.
Qin Siyu walked with remarkable accuracy to the very place where they’d met and said with a smile, “Here, I think.”
“That’s right.” Aston’s blue eyes held his in a deep gaze. In a coaxing voice he said, “Why don’t you dig here again now? Give it a try.”
Qin Siyu: “Huh?”
Aston repeated, “Why don’t you dig here again now? Try it.”
“All right!” Qin Siyu laughed. He tugged up the creases of his trousers, crouched down, and dug once with his slender fingers, then scooped again, and again.
After he’d dug out seven or eight handfuls of sand, there was another golden gleam beneath it, exactly as there had been eight years earlier.
“Well, look at that!” Qin Siyu laughed. “This really is a treasure spot. I’ve dug up gold again. This little pit must produce gold. Every time I dig here, I find more.”
He carefully picked out a small box, treating it with even greater caution and solemnity than he had eight years before.
It was a tiny velvet box with gold plating.
Still crouching, Qin Siyu lowered his eyes and opened it.
The sight inside struck his eyes and mind with overwhelming force.
It was a man’s ring.
The ring lay quietly surrounded by soft red velvet.
Its band was gold, set with a blue gemstone.
The stone’s color… It was so like Kingsy’s eyes, so very like them, exactly the same.
It was round too. Qin Siyu couldn’t bear the sight of that shade of blue without his heart beginning to pound.
“Seany…” Aston crouched beside him too.
With tenderness in his eyes, Qin Siyu gently removed the ring. He stared at it in fascination for a while, then turned it over.
As expected, the letter “A” was engraved on the setting behind the gemstone.
It was the same letter “A” that had been engraved on the gold watch he’d found.
On the band opposite that letter was another engraving: “S&K, 1932.”
The sea stretched wide, and so did the beach. There was nobody else around. Tears gathered in Qin Siyu’s eyes again. He held out his hand and asked Aston to put the ring on his left hand. “Kingsy, could you help me put it on?”
Aston took the ring.
It fit perfectly, just as expected.
When the ring settled at the base of his ring finger, Qin Siyu had never liked his own hand so much.
The base of that finger seemed to burn.
The engraved “A” seemed seared into his skin, as though it could burn through the flesh, merge with his blood, and carve itself into his bones. The “S&K, 1932” on the other side felt the same.
The gemstone was such a brilliant blue that he couldn’t take his eyes off it. Qin Siyu thought that if he truly wore the ring, he would probably spend every daytime hour apart from Aston staring at the base of his finger, unable to look away, until he saw Kingsy again at night. He wouldn’t be able to see anything else or get anything done.
Aston watched him too.
Now that the ring was in place, it concealed the small mole at the side of the base of Qin Siyu’s ring finger. Unless someone removed the ring, nobody else would notice it. In truth, only one person would be able to see it.
“Seany,” Aston said, “shall we get engaged? Will you?”
“Yes. Of course.” Qin Siyu asked, “Then when shall we marry?”
“The first day we’re allowed to marry,” Aston answered. “The first minute. The first second.”
“All right.” Qin Siyu’s voice choked up, and he struggled to speak. “All right, Kingsy. We’ll get engaged today. And afterward, on the first day, the first minute, the first second when we’re allowed to marry, we’ll go and get married.”
“That’s right, Seany. We’ve made our promise.”
“Then, Kingsy,” Qin Siyu asked, “where’s your ring?”
“It’s in the box too.” Aston smiled. “In the second compartment.”
Qin Siyu opened the box again.
Sure enough, there was another ring inside.
It was the same style, but this gemstone was black, profoundly black and round, the color of Qin Siyu’s eyes.
The band bore the same inscription, “S&K, 1932.” Beneath the stone, on the setting itself… was a butterfly design.
It was exactly the same design as the one on the seashell Qin Siyu had given him back then.
That butterfly.
One ring bore an “A,” and the other a butterfly.
The very things they had exchanged when they first met.
Qin Siyu put the second ring on Aston’s left hand. Qin Siyu held Aston’s hand, and Aston held his in return.
It was different from the traditional exchange between a bride and groom. At a conventional wedding, the woman offered her hand and the man held it. Here, each man was holding and supporting the other man’s hand as the rings were placed.
Neither one lifted the other alone, and neither one supported the other alone.
They lifted each other and supported each other.
“Kingsy,” Qin Siyu murmured, “before a wedding, people have a rehearsal, don’t they? They recite that passage, the vows. Having the rehearsal means the wedding is only one step away, doesn’t it? Could we rehearse it too?”
Those blue eyes fixed on him. Aston said, “We can. Of course we can, Seany.”
So they faced each other, crouching on the beach like two birds at rest. Each held the other’s hand, with the golden-red sun behind them, and together they recited quietly: “I, Sean Chin, take thee, Kingsley Aston, to be my lawful wedded spouse, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.”
And then: “I, Kingsley Aston, take thee, Sean Chin, to be my lawful wedded spouse, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.”
Their voices were perfectly harmonious. They understood each other so well that the rhythm of every sentence and every pause was exactly the same. Without agreeing on anything beforehand, they blended together effortlessly.
Only when they spoke their own names and each other’s names did their words differ.
Yet even their names, overlapping and mingling, sounded graceful and beautiful.
Perhaps because the person speaking each name was so full of love.
Both voices were low, gentle, tender, and deeply affectionate.
And so, at the place where they’d first met each other in 1932, they exchanged rings and rehearsed their vows until they knew them well.
When the rehearsal ended, those words were committed to memory. The wedding itself was only a single step away.
Under ordinary circumstances, once the rehearsal was over, all that remained was to wait for the hands of the world’s clocks to reach the appointed time for the wedding, and they could officially become spouses.
Neither of them knew then that this final step would take sixty-eight years.
Elio’s Notes: The story’s final sixty-eight years points from their 1940 engagement to 2008. Same-sex marriage first became legally available in California on June 16, 2008, although a temporary ban followed later that year. The narrative’s forward-looking ending is left intact. Source: U.S. Social Security Administration, California same-sex marriage legal history.