When morning came, the autumn sunlight was beautiful.
Aston woke first. The very first thing he saw was the fluffy black head nestled lightly into the hollow of his neck. Happiness swelled in him again.
He stroked Qin Siyu’s black hair. The shining, silky strands wound around his fingertips; when he relaxed his fingers, they slipped free and fell again.
He never tired of it.
After a while, Aston felt a sudden tickle against his collarbone.
He looked down. The black head was moving a little at a time. A small tongue had emerged and was licking the skin between his collarbones like a kitten.
Aston caught hold of Qin Siyu’s hair and tugged gently. Qin Siyu lifted his head and smiled. "Good morning, Kingsy."
"Good morning, Seany."
The electric curtains opened partway. Aston wrapped an arm around Qin Siyu and pulled him a little higher, touched his nose to his, and kissed his lips.
They kissed for a while, then gazed at each other for a while.
They loved each other’s eyes. No matter how long they looked, it was never enough.
They gazed at each other again, then exchanged another few soft kisses.
Even now, whenever Qin Siyu met Aston’s eyes, his heart would still tremble and shiver.
Seventeen years. He was a doctor, and seventeen years had passed, yet he still had not developed the slightest immunity to the man named Kingsley Aston.
Every time those eyes turned toward him and held him fast, Qin Siyu had a physical reaction. Breathing became difficult; his skin prickled, his mind went numb, his fingertips stiffened and even trembled.
Aston’s gaze always held something fiercely possessive, as though he intended to devour Qin Siyu whole. But Qin Siyu himself only had to be looked at once for his body to soften and grow warm.
Over the past four years, he had often remembered the day they reunited after their four-year separation.
The moment he saw Aston on the platform; the moment he watched him beside the piano; the moment their lips and tongues touched again, and they embraced and became one; the moment he saw Aston sitting in the car park eating toast… That tremendous, overwhelming happiness.
For days afterward his heart had pounded and his entire body trembled. He had almost felt he might die of joy.
Today they could spend the whole day clinging to each other, and both were delighted.
Every week, the days they looked forward to most were the weekend.
They loved being like this, lying in bed together in the sunshine and gazing into each other’s eyes.
But Lucky disagreed.
He was hungry!
A rapid patter of footsteps came up the stairs and stopped behind the door.
Qin Siyu laughed and patted Aston on one shoulder. "Go feed him."
Aston got up, his tall figure powerfully built. He ran a hand through the golden hair above his forehead, slipped into his slippers, and went to feed Lucky.
Walking past the foot of the bed and his beloved, Aston noticed that one of Qin Siyu’s feet was sticking out from under the covers.
He lifted the blanket and cradled the ankle in his hand.
Before tucking it back beneath the covers, he brought the foot to his lips and kissed the ankle bone.
The foot instinctively jerked, but Aston kept hold of it and gently tucked it into the bed.
"Seany," Aston sighed again, "you really are terribly sensitive."
Qin Siyu replied, "If I’m only sensitive to one person, can you really call that being sensitive?"
After Aston went downstairs, Qin Siyu lingered in bed for a while longer.
They had gone to sleep terribly late yesterday. No wonder Lucky was hungry.
After work they had spent a while clinging to one another, then gotten up to prepare and eat dinner. They had gone out walking and, after their stroll, sat for a while at a café beside Victoria Harbour to admire the view and enjoy the sea breeze. After returning, they had played music and painted flowers, on paper and on skin, then rolled into bed and spent a long time being intimate. Softening and cleaning away the paint had taken considerable effort too. By the time they finally fell asleep, it had been nearly half past one.
Breakfast should be ready by now, Qin Siyu thought. He dressed, washed his face, brushed his teeth, and went downstairs.
As he reached the ground floor, Aston came toward him in welcome. Lucky bounded over at the same time. Feeling guilty for having kept the dog hungry this morning, Qin Siyu stroked his head, then picked him up and spun around twice.
Aston simply stood there in silence.
Qin Siyu asked, "What’s wrong now, my Master~?"
Aston said, "When you came downstairs, you noticed him before you noticed me."
Qin Siyu had long since become thoroughly practiced at apologizing. He replied immediately, "I’m sorry. Actually, I saw you first, and only then saw him. But I let him go hungry this morning, didn’t I?"
They shared another long, delicate kiss, their tongues entwining.
Breakfast was American-style: sausages, hash browns, toast, butter, and a cup of coffee.
By the time they finished, it was nine fifteen. At half past nine, they received a visitor, an official in charge of overseas Chinese affairs from Guangdong Province.
The war was over. Qin Siyu wanted to donate money to his hometown and support projects such as roads, schools, and hospitals. The two sides were discussing how to proceed.
Then at half past eleven, another guest arrived, someone they had not seen in a very long time.
Endicott Cliff.
He was now an aide to a well-known congressman and was working in Hong Kong that week.
Embassy personnel were withdrawing from mainland China to Hong Kong, and the congressman wanted more information. Cliff had been sent to find out what was happening.
The two old friends embraced. Cliff studied Aston for a long time before saying, "Kingsley, you’re doing very well now. Congratulations." He had seen how unhinged Aston had become when he lost the man he loved.
"I am," Aston replied. "Thank you."
Cliff handed over the gifts he had brought.
They were all things Aston had asked his old friend to bring because he thought Qin Siyu would want or enjoy them.
That particular kind of Jewish candy, for example, and books that had been published in recent years.
Qin Siyu said to Cliff, "Thank you."
Then he turned to Aston. "Thank you, too."
But the two expressions of thanks sounded completely different.
One was polite. The other was intimate.
Cliff sat down and said to them, "Can you believe it? Eight years have passed, and New York society is still talking about the two of you."
Aston’s reply was cool. "Talking about what?"
He crossed his long legs and lowered his blue eyes. He seemed even more imposing than he had four years earlier.
"About the Aston family’s only son going mad, being completely bewitched, what else? He escaped from Freeman’s hands, but that Chinese man, driven to despair, chose to serve in the war as a doctor. Then the Astons’ only son actually followed him into the war! Won decorations, earned honors, rose through the ranks as if taking a helicopter, and by the time he left the army he was a colonel with more medals than anyone could count. After the war they somehow found each other again, and the two of them gave everything up to leave America and move to Hong Kong. Old Aston was so furious he had a stroke. But his son has built a huge business here and works with all sorts of people. Every time news of it reaches New York, everyone talks about them, and they…"
Aston gave a quiet laugh and listened only in snatches. His real attention remained fixed on Qin Siyu.
"Last month I heard your name mentioned again at an important social gathering," Cliff said, pouring himself a drink. "Eight years ago, every young lady in New York high society was heartbroken. Some regretted the missed opportunity, some felt sorry for you, some were secretly relieved they hadn’t fallen too deeply, and of course some came only for the spectacle, to laugh at the whole thing… But when they bring it up now, their feelings are still rather complicated."
To enter the marriage their family had arranged for them, or to experience a love like this just once, throwing caution to the winds and flying straight into the flame? Which would any of them choose?
Most people never got to choose. They never encountered, never possessed, a love like that in the first place.
As for Alex Aston, Qin Siyu could no longer feel simple hatred toward him when he thought of those four years.
Only after their reunion had the two men discovered that the Aston family had not been the only people who had tried to tear them apart. Qin Siyu’s own family had played a part too.
Telephone calls had been forbidden at the front, but letters were allowed, provided they passed inspection.
Officers and soldiers were assigned military postal addresses after arriving in the theater of war, which they could send to their families. Yet communications from the front were so slow that by the time a family received the address, a great deal of time had usually passed.
Suyu had been about to join the war effort too. Her application had already been approved, and she was preparing to depart, but she still hadn’t received Qin Siyu’s address. Knowing how difficult and slow communication between war zones would be, especially in China, Lin Suyu changed her plan.
Otherwise, for her older brother to learn that Aston had come to the family home searching for him, her aunt Lin Xiangmei would first have to receive the military post address Qin Siyu had sent from his overseas theater of war. Months later, she would receive the postal address Suyu herself had sent. Then Lin Xiangmei would have to write to Suyu with Qin Siyu’s address. That letter would be inspected before reaching her. Finally, Suyu would have to write Qin Siyu about Aston’s visit, and that letter would have to pass through two inspections before it reached him…
Suyu thought that would take far too long. The whole process also depended on everything going smoothly. For one thing, letters were often lost on the battlefield, particularly when traveling between war zones. For another, military postal addresses changed frequently. A soldier might be transferred to another unit, or a unit might move to a different front after a battle. Every move meant a new address. Qin Siyu was even harder to track. Conditions constantly changed, medics could be deployed at any time, and the Pacific was full of little islands: they would fight on one island, then move to another.
Lin Suyu believed it was important to tell her older brother about Aston as soon as possible. Without thinking much more about it, she asked Lin Xiangmei to mention it in her reply to Qin Siyu: a white friend of his, Mr. Aston, had come looking for him at home.
Lin Xiangmei had always seemed so meek and submissive, so willing to endure whatever happened, that everyone often forgot one thing: she had originally been very clever.
Lin Xiangmei never told her son. She had sensed immediately that if Qin Siyu learned the truth, he would never marry a woman or have children.
She could not accept that.
Her dutiful, outstanding, only son!
Yet in her letters to Lin Suyu, Lin Xiangmei claimed she had done as instructed. She even said Qin Siyu had replied already and told Suyu not to worry.
In the following years, Lin Suyu and Qin Siyu did not exchange letters very often. Suyu had always thought her older brother knew. So she never brought it up again. All letters had to be inspected, and she didn’t want to create trouble by repeatedly mentioning that a man had come looking for him.
That meant the person who had tried so forcefully to keep them apart during those four years wasn’t only Alex Aston. Lin Xiangmei had done so too.
When Lin Suyu learned the truth, she felt terribly remorseful and guilty, but Qin Siyu only comforted her.
His little sister had suffered enough. Women faced discrimination in the military. Some newspapers criticized them; society feared they would become "like men" and "lose their femininity." There had even been all sorts of rumors… And after they left the service, their benefits could not compare with those received by men.
How could he possibly blame his little sister?
Qin Siyu showed Cliff around the house, taking him everywhere except the bedroom.
When they reached the "museum," Cliff asked, "What’s this room for?"
Qin Siyu led him inside and replied, "Everything that’s witnessed our journey together."
Cliff dimly recognized several of the objects. He clicked his tongue. "You two…"
He turned back. Aston stood tall and handsome, both hands in his trouser pockets, looking at him calmly.
Cliff looked at Qin Siyu again. He didn’t seem to find anything about this strange either. He met Cliff’s gaze with equal composure.
Cliff sighed. "Forget it. You’ve always been like this. For the two of you, I suppose it’s perfectly normal."
Over the years, he had naturally come to understand the depth of their bond, and he was happy for his good friend. They really had made a life together.
At noon, Aston and Qin Siyu took Cliff out for lunch.
Qin Siyu bent his head over the menu. "Your tastes are probably pretty similar to Kingsy’s. His favorites are these dishes…"
He was attentive as always, smiling softly.
And for everything "Kingsy liked," Qin Siyu ordered two portions.
Before placing the order, he checked with Cliff again. "Endicott doesn’t eat fennel seeds, right?"
Cliff nodded.
"And you don’t like… either, correct?"
He went through the details one by one, exceptionally carefully. Cliff nodded again, smiling.
Qin Siyu looked toward Aston, and their eyes met lightly.
But a moment later, despite having been reassured, Cliff still felt his old friend cast a cool glance in his direction.
They exchanged news about their lives.
Cliff intended to return to New York at the end of the year to run for Congress. He was trying to secure his party’s nomination.
Aston had considerable connections and resources in America, and he spoke both Mandarin and Cantonese. Trade, shipping, insurance, finance, real estate: everything was flourishing. His company had grown very large, and over the past two or three years he had become one of Hong Kong’s most rapidly rising business magnates.
As for Qin Siyu, he had risen to the second-highest position in the surgical department of Hong Kong’s largest hospital. He also served as an adviser to several hospitals on the mainland, helping them develop their facilities.
Between 1945 and 1949, Qin Siyu had also participated in several trials in Shanghai and Manila.
By then, with the lieutenant colonel’s assistance, he had recovered his identity, combined the records of his two names, and restored the full account of his experiences. He had not faced any prosecution. But his greatest achievement, covering the hospital’s evacuation on Saipan, had still not been recognized or awarded a decoration. At the time, the lieutenant colonel had consoled him: "Leave everything to time."
In Manila alone, Qin Siyu appeared in court eight times. As a military doctor, he submitted professional evidence and testified extensively about the physical and psychological conditions of prisoners of war who had returned. He stated, "Those injuries absolutely could not have resulted from combat. They could only have been caused by abuse."
He also described civilians he himself had treated, declaring with certainty, "They treated civilians with cruelty."
Qin Siyu was always meticulous. His handwritten medical records and battlefield diary corresponded exactly to the scars on the soldiers who testified in court, down to the last detail. There was no room for doubt, and his testimony carried extraordinary credibility. It even lent immediate weight to his autopsy reports. As his records and diary demonstrated, the injuries could not have come from battle. They could only have been inflicted through abuse.
His memory was excellent too. He could accurately recall the condition of the airmen when his medical team arrived, proving that they were no longer capable of fighting, yet the Japanese had still killed them.
He controlled his emotions and said, "He was absolutely incapable of combat at the time. Yet his neck was still severed by a sharp blade."
After the trials, some war criminals were sentenced to death and others were sent to prison.
Aston accompanied Qin Siyu every time he testified.
Sometimes Qin Siyu couldn’t control his emotions. When that happened, he would look toward Aston, who was always sitting in the public gallery. The sight of him reminded Qin Siyu where he was and that all of it was over. Gradually he could calm himself and do what he needed to do now: keep looking forward, keep moving forward, and make sure that those who committed the crimes finally faced judgment and those who had died were finally accorded dignity.
Aston, Qin Siyu, and Cliff talked for about two hours. Cliff had other business, so he said goodbye to them.
"Could you wait a moment?" Qin Siyu led Cliff back to the car they had arrived in and opened the boot. He took out a beautifully wrapped present. "It’s been such a long time. I’ve put together a few interesting things from Hong Kong for you to take home. I hope you won’t mind."
"Well, now." Cliff’s eyes were always smiling. "What have we here?"
He took everything out and looked through it: a top-quality porcelain tea service, Chinese tea, silk handkerchiefs, jade ornaments, and a set of local postcards.
"Thank you." Cliff was moved. "I can tell you put a lot of thought into this."
Aston cast him another cool glance.
"Master," Cliff sighed, holding the presents, "do you actually want me to cherish these things, or not?"
Aston replied as coolly as ever, "Do whatever you like."
Cliff said, "Terrifying."
Qin Siyu pulled his coat around himself and laughed.
After seeing Cliff off, the two went to a private riding stable in the New Territories that afternoon.
Their horses were kept there.
After their reunion, before leaving for Hong Kong, they had been in a hurry, but both were careful planners who acted quickly. They had brought everything they needed, including several of Aston’s beloved horses.
One was the horse Qin Siyu had ridden for the first time at the Hillsborough estate in 1933. It was rather old now. Another was the horse Aston had switched to later, also black.
They rarely stayed at their house on Victoria Peak, and the Mid-Levels were not a suitable place to keep horses. So most of the time the animals lived at a beautiful private stable in the New Territories.
The stables housed horses belonging to wealthy British businessmen and politicians too, including the governor of Hong Kong. One of Aston’s horses was especially friendly with the governor’s horse. The two were always exchanging little secrets.
They led out their horse and took it for a ride.
The autumn sunlight was just right, and everywhere in the New Territories the rice fields glowed gold.
Before the urbanization of later decades, the countryside had much of the atmosphere of rural England.
Fields and villages stretched around them. The two rode slowly toward the sea along a country track, Lucky trotting behind. Sometimes he pounced at butterflies; sometimes he swatted at rice stalks, batting at this and that in every direction.
Both men were riding the same horse.
Homosexuality was illegal in Hong Kong too, but the atmosphere was not quite as paranoid and tense as it had been in America.
A gentle breeze blew. Sometimes Qin Siyu would lean back into Aston’s chest, his waist softening, and Aston would support him and rub his chin against his black hair.
Sometimes Aston leaned down and pressed his lips close, breathed in the scent of Qin Siyu’s hair, or even laid both lips upon it and rubbed them up and down a few times, savoring its smoothness and softness.
At one point, when Aston leaned in with his lips again, Qin Siyu suddenly shook his head just like Lucky. His black hair flew about and whipped from side to side. Aston lowered his blue eyes and said dangerously, "Seany."
Qin Siyu laughed. "Hahahaha!"
Aston would also lean in, catch Qin Siyu’s collar lightly between his teeth, and pull it backward and down a little, exposing the long, fair nape of his neck.
"What are you looking at?" Qin Siyu asked.
Aston didn’t answer. He only stared at that patch of skin, entranced. Sometimes he brought his nose within two or three inches, inhaled the scent, and imagined it traveling down his windpipe to his lungs, then being carried throughout his body, even to his heart.
At other times, Qin Siyu stuck his head out from under Aston’s arm to check on the dog.
He also stretched out a hand and spread his fingers, letting the sun shine through the gaps onto their faces. A ring sat on his fourth finger, its blue gemstone clear and beautiful. Sunlight glimmered on the ring and on his face.
They rode all the way across the rice fields to the coast.
Aston tightened his legs against the horse, and the black steed broke into a gallop along the beach.
Its four hooves pounded the damp sand, throwing grains into the air. The horse’s black mane streamed in the sea breeze. Strong and unrestrained, its muscular black body rose and fell with every stride, its neck long and its muscles flowing smoothly beneath its coat. Fine sand flew back behind it, leaving a long chain of hoofprints along the shore. In the distance, the waves rolled and murmured, white foam reaching up the beach as though hoping to touch the traces of the passing riders.
Blue sea, yellow sand, a black horse, and two people who had never stopped loving each other.
Lucky loved this part best. He stretched all four legs and raced after his masters along the beach, running into the sea wind.
They raced along the long coastline for quite some time.
Forest stood to one side, ocean to the other. It was very different from San Francisco.
Near sunset, they reined in the horse, went to the water’s edge, and sat together on the sand to wait for the sun to go down.
They loved sunsets over the sea.
"Seany," Aston said, "shall we take the sailboat out next week?"
"You make the arrangements."
"All right." Aston began making plans. "If the weather allows, we’ll take the sailboat next week. We’ll go to Macau on Saturday, moor there overnight, spend the afternoon walking around the old town, and have dinner at that Portuguese restaurant you like so much."
"That sounds wonderful." Qin Siyu smiled. "I love their seafood rice stew. And I like their Portuguese egg tarts too."
Elio’s Notes: Portuguese egg tarts in Macau. The Portuguese pastel de nata existed well before 1949. However, the Macau-style Portuguese egg tart familiar today was introduced by Andrew Stow around 1989, decades after the scene. The original text does not specify whether the characters mean an imported/traditional Portuguese pastry or the later Macau specialty, so the translation preserves "Portuguese egg tarts" without choosing one interpretation. Sources: Macao News, pastry history and Lord Stow’s Bakery, history.
"I know," Aston said. "You like lobster."
Imitating Aston’s manner from long ago, Qin Siyu said with an affected, distinctive English accent, "It’s all right. I’m tired of eating it."
Aston imitated Qin Siyu in return. "Well, that’s a good thing."
How strange. Seventeen years had passed, yet the two still remembered every word they had said back then.
Not just back then, in fact. Over the years, they had remembered almost everything they had said to each other. Qin Siyu kept a diary, and when he was too busy, Aston wrote it for him. They had even filled in their old diaries. Whenever something was written down once and read several times, it naturally became unforgettable.
There was no one around. They clasped their hands tightly, leaned toward one another, and kissed.
Qin Siyu thought: his first taste of lobster had been connected to this man. So had his first horseback ride, and his first trip in a sailboat.
Every corner of his life was stamped with the many different marks Aston had left upon it.
They gazed at each other.
Their eyes seemed to contain hooks. All it took was a single look to tug at every nerve in the other’s body, at every drop of blood.
Everything, everything still stirred at that one look. Their bodies responded with excitement and trembling, longing spreading irresistibly through them in an instant.
The sun began to set. This sunset was, in truth, different from the view in San Francisco.
Here the scenery felt more like an Eastern landscape painting, with islands, tidal flats, mountains, and water wherever one looked. The air was a little warmer too. San Francisco had a vast, unobstructed horizon, strong winds, great waves, and fog hanging over everything. There was a lonely sense of space about it.
San Francisco was magnificent and beautiful, but Qin Siyu had spent a full twenty-five years there. He liked being somewhere different now, living a different sort of life, with new experiences and new things to discover.
Perhaps one day they would go to China. Perhaps someday they would go back to America. Who knew? What mattered was that one person was always, always by his side.
The sea breeze blew. Their eyes met once more.
"Kingsy," Qin Siyu said, "I love you."
Aston answered, "I love you too."
"I always love you," Qin Siyu declared again. "Every second in my life. I am sure."
He was certain, absolutely certain. Since the day they had become a couple, there had never been a single second in which he had not loved Aston. Never a second in which he had wanted to part from him. In fact, there had never been one second when his feelings were even the slightest bit weaker than in the second before, not by the tiniest fraction.
At every moment of his life, Qin Siyu was willing to give up everything for him, including his freedom and his life.
And Aston felt exactly the same.
"Seany," he said, "Me too. I always have, and I always will. Every second that has passed, and every second that is yet to come. I will prove it with my whole life."
Every second of the past and every second yet to come, he would love Qin Siyu fiercely and with everything he had.
Over these four years, Aston had often felt that Heaven was watching over him. He was happy. He had found his way back to Seany.
They kissed again, slowly and gently. The setting sun illuminated their long eyelashes and the high bridges of their noses.
Their lips moved tenderly against each other, reluctant to separate.
The horse grazed in the woods behind them. Lucky sat beside Qin Siyu.
From San Francisco to Hong Kong, from one side of the sea to the other, after sharing life and death, they had traveled fifteen years together.
Yet to Qin Siyu, it felt so short.
They returned the horse to the private stable. On their way home, they saw many organizations celebrating the founding of the new country with great enthusiasm.
Back at their Mid-Levels villa, Qin Siyu turned on the television and watched the news attentively.
Elio’s Notes: Television in Hong Kong, 1949. The novel has Qin Siyu turn on a television to watch news of the October 1 founding ceremony. Hong Kong’s first local television service did not begin until 1957 (with wired subscription service becoming established around 1957–58); a normal Hong Kong television news broadcast in 1949 is therefore anachronistic. The scene has been translated as written. Source: Hong Kong Legislative Council, broadcasting history.
That afternoon a grand founding ceremony had been held at Tiananmen Square. Three hundred thousand people had gathered. There were flags, streamers, flowers, and lights everywhere. The first five-star red flag had been raised. Fifty-four artillery pieces fired together, and people from every ethnic group celebrated.
At last the war had ended. At last peace had come.
More than a century had passed since 1841.
Qin Siyu felt happy, although… the situation in the wider world seemed to be showing faint signs of unease.
Churchill had delivered his "Iron Curtain" speech. Truman, who succeeded Roosevelt, had announced a new foreign policy, the Truman Doctrine. The United States had implemented the Marshall Plan the previous year, providing massive assistance to Europe, with containment of the Soviet Union at its heart.
NATO had been formed in April of this year. In May, Germany had split, with the United States, Britain, and France establishing West Germany and the Soviet Union establishing East Germany. Tensions on the Korean Peninsula were rising, with turmoil faintly looming. In August, the Soviet Union successfully tested an atomic bomb… In only four years, the United States and the Soviet Union, two major allies in the Second World War, had moved steadily toward rupture and confrontation.
The Second World War had ended, and the Cold War had begun.
Elio’s Notes: Germany’s division in 1949. The novel says West and East Germany were both established in May 1949. The Federal Republic of Germany (West Germany) was founded in May 1949, but the German Democratic Republic (East Germany) was established on October 7, 1949, six days after this chapter’s October 1 events. The author’s chronology is retained in the narrative. Sources: Germany’s official historical timeline and US Office of the Historian.
One era had come to a thunderous end; another had arrived almost overnight.
They were all grains of sand.
"Seany." Aston came over and asked, "Have you forgotten? Next Monday is the anniversary of the day Professor Brown introduced us for our joint paper. What would you like to do this year?"
Professor Brown had brought them together for their research, and that led to their first arranged meeting. Before that, their encounters had all been chance meetings, and they hadn’t had much to do with each other.
"Mm…" Qin Siyu looked back at him. "Of course I haven’t forgotten."
Aston stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, still handsome and upright. The experiences of war and business seemed only to have made his presence more commanding and exceptional.
His eyes were fixed firmly on Qin Siyu.
Qin Siyu remembered that day after the Lunar New Year in 1933, when he had carried his pipa to Robert’s house in Pacific Heights.
The scene had been much like this one: a house on a hill, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the sea, and Kingsley Aston standing at the window in the lovely sunlight. His eyes had been so beautiful, the clear, clear blue of the ocean beyond.
Seventeen years had passed. No matter what they had gone through, Aston remained at his side. Gender, race, class, and faith could not separate them. Neither family nor power, not even war, could tear them apart.
Two years getting to know each other, seven years in love, four years apart, and then four more years together.
They had met in the worst year of the Great Depression. The year before their meeting, Japan had begun its invasion of China. The year after they met, Hitler was appointed chancellor. And now? The Great Depression had ended ten years ago. Roosevelt had become president, won four elections, and died four years ago. Truman was now president. The Second World War had begun and ended. Hitler had been dead for four years. The long, bitter war against Japan had ended in victory four years ago, and even the trials were coming to a close; several war criminals had been executed at the end of last year. The Chinese Civil War had also ended, and the founding ceremony had just taken place. Germany had been divided into two. When they first met in 1932, the United States had not even recognized the Soviet Union; over those years, the two great powers had gone from antagonism to alliance and back to antagonism again.
Yet they still loved each other. They were still together.
No matter how much the world changed, the two of them remained unchanged.
They were all grains of sand.
Fortunately, true love could be eternal.
(Simple Romance — Main Story Complete)
Author’s Note
The main story is finished! The final chapter’s timeline is exactly seventy-seven years ago today~~~ I can’t believe I’ve really finished writing this, from a little script three years ago to a completed long novel (?).
This story posed so many challenges. First, it’s almost entirely a romance, and I rarely write pure romances. Second, it covers an enormous span of time, almost from the Great Depression of 1929 to 1949, and is set mainly in American society. I went through mountains of reference material and still can’t guarantee I got everything right… And lastly, 430,000 Chinese characters, all published in two and a half months, averaging almost 6,000 characters a day. I did have a manuscript stockpile, admittedly, but it was still so, so exhausting… And the chapters kept getting locked, here and there, then I’d have to fix this and fix that… It’s such a nuisance for a couple so full of passion.
Thank you all so, so much. At first I thought a story on this subject wouldn’t have many readers. I nearly finished the entire manuscript before publishing partly because I was afraid the response would affect me, undermine my confidence, and damage the quality, and so on. But it turned out…! Although the number of bookmarks has never been very high, everything else has honestly been quite good.
I was on tenterhooks while writing the parts where the two men were separated. Even though I’d settled the outline long beforehand, I was still terribly nervous… But you all didn’t scold Panda. Instead, you understood exactly what sort of story I wanted to tell. I’m so happy and touched, because from the very beginning I wanted to write a work about forbidden love, about two people throwing everything away for each other, QAQ. There will be quite a few extras afterward. Some sweet moments from after they got together in 1934, some from their sweet life in Hong Kong after 1945, and more sweet moments from even later in their lives. I think the last extra will go all the way to age ninety-three! The year they get married! They’ll both still be full of life. They may grow "old," but there will be no "illness" or "death," so don’t worry! I’ve used up all my saved chapters, so the extras will have to come a few days later. At present I plan to start releasing them one after another in a week, though I may revise the story this week. Finally, if you enjoyed it, please consider recommending it elsewhere. Panda Mama would be endlessly grateful!!! And last of all, please follow the author too!!!