<p class="ql-block">When I returned home in 2017, relatives and friends gathered together. Even before everyone arrived, two large tables were already filled. At that moment, I suddenly realized that although her life was full of hardship, it also had another kind of fulfillment—a large family and continuing lineage. She lived through nearly a century of China’s turbulence, from a bound-foot child bride to a matriarch surrounded by descendants. In herself, she was a witness to history.</p><p class="ql-block">Looking back on her life, there was suffering, endurance, loss, but also warmth and resilience. She may not have been educated or left written words, but she composed a silent epic with her life. To me, she was not only the person who raised me, but also the bridge connecting our family’s memory with the tides of history.</p><p class="ql-block">My grandmother, Wu Yuchai. Her life was ordinary yet profound; quiet yet far-reaching. Even today, whenever I think of her fingers rolling prayer beads, an indescribable warmth and reverence rises in my heart.</p>