Shengchun Sophie Luo: A Woman with Voice and Attitude (Part 2)
By Sloane Song
Due to concerns regarding government repercussions, the writer of this piece writes under the pen name “Sloane Song.” Human Rights in China has independently verified the identity of the writer.
On April 17, 2013, Ding Jiaxi was arrested for the first time due to his involvement in the New Citizens Movement. In 2014, when Luo accepted the 28th Outstanding Democratic Activist Award by the China Democracy Education Foundation on behalf of Ding, she said “Ever since Jiaxi was arrested, it feels as if I have opened my eyes for the first time to see China.”
In the second part of Luo’s narrative, we delve into her life between 2000 and 2015. After hitting internal emotional rock bottom with Ding, she faced the challenges of his first arrest linked to the New Citizens Movement. Persecution from the government towards Ding prompted Luo’s decision to leave China with her two daughters, embarking on a quest for justice for Ding in the United States.
This piece will be published by Human Rights in China one part at a time, over five weeks. Read part one here.
VIII.
Around 2000, the seventh year of Luo and Ding’s marriage, Luo felt that Ding’s passion shifted away from her to his career ambitions. He wanted to make as much money as possible in a short period of time, so that after providing financial security for their family, he could be liberated to fully dedicate himself to the social movement.
While Ding toiled away late into the night, Luo sat at home, plagued by thoughts of his being unfaithful. She couldn’t trace the source of her suspicions, but a deep-rooted fear lingered within her—that one day, Ding would fall out of love, betray her, and abandon her. She incessantly questioned him who he was with and what he was doing. She was aware that her constant probing wearied him, and she sensed that their marriage had transformed into a burden for him.
“His focus was on work, while mine was on him,” Luo sighed. “It’s foolish and pathetic. I love him so deeply, and that’s precisely why I need to distance myself from him for a while.”
Luo made the difficult decision that a temporary separation might be the best for both of them. The longing to study abroad and experience the world outside of China, a dream she had set aside upon her marriage, now resurfaced. She dusted off her GRE books and began preparing for the exam once again. Ding gladly supported her decision and encouraged her to experience the world. This response, Luo believed, was partially rooted in his own vanity, a desire to have a wife who had studied abroad, who could “grace the grand hall and master the kitchen,” a common social expectation placed upon women in China.
In the fall of 2000, on a full scholarship, Luo arrived at Alfred University. The school was situated in Alfred, a charming college town in New York with a population of around 4,000 residents. She quickly fell in love with her new life in the United States, especially the freedom and the friendliness she experienced. She explored local churches, seeking solace from the stark atheism instilled in her since elementary school, and as she listened to the pastor's sermons and perused the pages of the Bible, she found herself resonating with the emphasis on family values and experiencing a newfound inner tranquility.
In the following winter, Ding brought their five-year-old daughter Katherine to visit Luo in Alfred. The winters in Alfred were bitterly cold, with thick blankets of snow enveloping the town, so when Luo attended her classes, Ding and Katherine indulged in skiing in the winter wonderland.
In 2001, Luo became pregnant with their second child, Caroline.
During those visits, Ding often went to the court hearings in nearby towns to observe the legal proceedings. He was eager to understand the American judicial system, and when he came home, he would excitedly share his insights with Luo. She appreciated every moment when Ding came to see her and made an effort to bring joy into her life. There was sweetness in simply listening to him passionately discuss his ideas on reforming the Chinese legal system based on the American model.
“I felt like an ugly duckling in front of him, but I wanted to transform myself into a beautiful swan. I wanted to grow and change on my own,” Luo said. “I felt that he was always educating me, always guiding me like a teacher, whereas I just wholeheartedly loved him. He knew he was my entire world, and I was just a part of his.”
IX.
In 2013, upon hearing the verdict sentencing Ding to three and a half years in prison, Luo’s first thought was that their marriage would once again be teetering on the brink of collapse.
She feared the idea of three and a half years of separation. In 2003, after watching the film “Cell Phone,” which depicted a couple’s breakup due to infidelity, Ding told Luo that while people often attribute divorce to the involvement of a third person, love itself can also be a cause for the dissolution of a marriage.
“I really do love you, but I don’t think you should return to China,” Ding said. “Why would you? You're so happy in the U.S. You wouldn’t be able to adapt to life in China anymore. There’s no room for the same level of freedom here.”
“You should stay,” Ding continued. “But I want to change China. I need to be on the ground.”
Luo was devastated. How could he say such a thing? Following that conversation, Ding rarely contacted Luo. She could sense that he was intentionally creating distance between them.
Luo wasn’t ready to leave the U.S. After graduating from Alfred University, Luo enjoyed her time working at the French multinational company Alstom. But she sensed that Ding, like a tree, was firmly rooting himself in the soil of China. In 2003, Ding and his colleagues founded the Dehong Law Firm in Beijing, and the firm grew rapidly. Luo felt that her destiny was calling for her to go back to China and be with Ding.
When Luo returned to China in 2004, Ding had already grown accustomed to being alone. He was cold as stone, and at one point, he told Luo that “I no longer have any feelings for you after those three and a half years of separation.” He moved out for a few months, and even when he returned, he seemed more engrossed in his golf and books than in engaging with Luo.
Luo put her work on hold for six months, hoping to focus on taking care of Ding and their daughters while readjusting herself to Chinese society. Social norms in China felt foreign to her. People weren’t used to saying or hearing “thank you.” Attending churches in China and reading the Bible in her native language could not bring her the spiritual connection. Amidst these challenges, she found herself deeply occupied with planning the interior design of an apartment that she and Ding had acquired, a space Ding stayed to avoid her once it was completed.
Ding frequently broached the topic of divorce, but Luo couldn’t fathom how one could express love through such a concept.
“Please, I beg you to stop these hurtful words,” Luo pleaded with him. “I would never even think about leaving you, even in the most difficult times. All I want is to have you right beside me. I don’t need anything else. You are the source of my happiness. Just you, being with me, that’s all I need.”
Luo believed that her words had somehow touched Ding. He stopped bringing up the topic of divorce and gradually became less indifferent towards her. Though the passionate love they once had was no longer there, Luo thought that at least they had regained a sense of familial affection. For Luo, the following ten years were peaceful and happy. She had successive promotions at her company, her husband’s law firm was thriving, and their two daughters were growing up well. She felt incredibly content.
February 2004, taken at the house of Ding Jiaxi and Luo Shengchun’s friend in Alfred, when Jiaxi visited with their two daughters before Luo moved back to China.
X.
In October 2011, Ding returned to China from his visiting scholar program at Fordham University Law School. He met with Xu Zhiyong, a prominent civil rights activist and essayist, and started to attend a weekly constitution discussion seminar organized by several lawyers and scholars.
Led with the slogan of “Freedom, Justice, and Love,” the New Citizens Movement put forward two demands: first, that China would peacefully transition to a constitutional government, and second, that the society would transition from a feudal society to a civil society. In May 2012, the movement started to organize numerous same-city New Citizens meal gatherings, where people could meet and discuss political and civil topics. Ding was one of the main organizers behind this.
Luo instinctively agreed with the core value of this movement, but doubted how successful this New Citizens Movement would be.
“The purpose of CCP is to atomize everyone,” Ding said to her.
“Yes, I know that, it’s an obvious fact,” Luo replied. “I know once the citizens unite that could be a tremendous force. But do you think you really can unite everyone?”
“Don’t worry,” Ding said confidently. “Let me handle it one by one.”
Within a few months, Luo remembers, over twenty cities had citizen gatherings due to the influence of the New Citizens Movement. In September 2012, their primary agenda was to advocate for legislation mandating government officials’ property disclosure by the National People’s Congress. According to Ding’s address at a 2012 gathering, they made extensive efforts to promote the disclosure of officials’ assets. They distributed hundreds of thousands of leaflets, created over a hundred banners, organized two street protests, gathered over seven thousand signatures, and formally requested legislation on property disclosure from the National People’s Congress and the Legal Affairs Office.
Luo was interested in those New Citizens meal gatherings, but as Ding was occupied with connecting people all around China, she had to take up domestic duties. She went grocery shopping, prepared meals, cleaned the house, took care of her mother-in-law, and sent her two daughters to piano lessons, ping-pong and swimming practices. Although Luo wanted to go to one of their events and discuss her rights as a citizen, she never did. Before she became a New Citizen, she first had to be a mother and a wife.
XI.
On the night of April 17, 2013, the police came to Luo’s apartment. She tried to take pictures of them until they warned Ding to pacify her or face the consequences. Anger, helplessness, and confusion. Luo stood in silence as the police combed through their books, papers, photographs, and CDs, searching under beds, inside cabinets, and across their computer files. She insisted on going with Ding as the police continued to search his office.
Before the police took Ding away, he held Luo in his arms. “Go home, my wife, it wouldn’t do you any good for being here” and he secretly passed a note to Luo.
“Don’t worry, my wife,” Ding said, trying to sound as calm as possible. “Have faith in me.”
Luo couldn’t recall how she managed to make it back home. She was still trembling when she arrived. They had just gone to the U.S. embassy to apply for a visa the day before Ding’s arrest. Ever since Ding demanded public disclosure of government officials’ assets four months earlier, he had been under police surveillance and summoned for multiple interrogations, one of which lasted for 48 hours. He warned Luo that his activities had become increasingly dangerous and urged her to take their daughters with her and move to the U.S. for safety. Luo agreed, but she never anticipated that Ding would be arrested one day, and definitely not so soon. Ding had promised to join her in the States for a while to help her settle down, and she hung on to the optimistic thought that perhaps she could persuade him to stay in the U.S. and start a new life with her and the children.
“See, I told you I’ll be fine,” Ding reassured Luo after his first interrogation. “I lectured them for ten hours. They were like students in a class. Maybe they didn’t fully understand me, but I still had to share the idea of a civil society with them.”
Luo couldn’t share Ding’s excitement about haranguing the police. “I was scared to death.”
“Trust me. Your man is all about positive vibes!” Ding replied confidently. Luo couldn’t detect any signs of exhaustion in Ding, even after hours of interrogation. His confidence temporarily reassured her.
Luo supported the idea of the New Citizens Movement, but she found it difficult to accept that it was her Jiaxi who was taking such risks to advance it. When Luo and Ding’s families attempted to persuade him to choose a less dangerous path, Ding always countered with, “Why do you not try persuading the bad guys to stop doing bad things, but instead tell the good guys to stop doing good things?”
When Luo returned to their apartment in a mess, she noticed the police left out a few shirts with the New Citizens Movement slogan, “Freedom, Justice, and Love.” She thought she should alert someone about Ding’s arrest. She opened Ding’s note, and there were two names: “Liang Xiaojun,” a human rights lawyer, and “Wang Gongquan,” an entrepreneur who supported the New Citizens Movement.
The following days felt like a montage. At first, she didn’t cry. She still went to work the next day as usual. When she received Ding’s notice of criminal detention, she naturally asked the lawyer “Are they really not allowing him to come back?” A few days after Ding’s detention, she drove a group of lawyers who wanted to visit Ding to the detention center. The lawyers were impressed by her calmness.
“Well, I’m just eager to see my husband,” Luo said.
“You really don’t know?” the lawyers asked, taken aback. “You won't be able to see him, not for a very long time.”
In China, individuals undergoing criminal detention are prohibited from receiving family visits and are only permitted visits from lawyers.
Luo wanted to confront and argue with the people who had taken Ding away from her. She wanted to sit in front of the detention center in silent protest, to bring her mother-in-law and daughters to sit in front of the detention center with her. Eventually she did none of those things, with the memory of her father’s ordeal during the Cultural Revolution reminding her of the mercilessness of the authorities.
After Ding’s detention, Luo spent every day drowning in her tears. She couldn’t accept the fact that Ding had vanished from her life, that she could no longer talk to him, that she must live her life without his bright smile.
Later on, she met with Wang Gongquan in the park. Wang related to her the instructions left by Ding: if Ding was arrested, and if Luo didn’t want to endure the constant harassment by the police, she should get a visa as soon as possible and bring their daughters to the United States.
“Maintain a low profile while still in China and don’t let yourself and the kids in a situation like that of Liu Xia.” Luo recalled Wang’s warning, but saw no chance of Ding coming home early if she continued to stay silent in China for the sake of her daughters and herself.
Perhaps now was the time to go to the United States, she thought, where there might be hope for rescuing Ding.
On June 5, 2013, Luo obtained her visa and immediately booked a flight to the United States in four days. For four days she packed her belongings day and night. She had shipped everything she found remotely meaningful in their old apartment to the States – her graduation certificate, marriage certificate, Ding’s suits, the expensive outfits Ding bought for her, her daughters’ certificates of merits, toys and transcripts.
Luo knew this would be her farewell to China.
XII.
After Ding’s arrest, Luo’s eldest daughter Katherine bought Luo a bouquet of flowers on Mother’s Day. She then went to Hong Kong to take the SAT exam, where the parents of her classmates did their best to take care of her. They couldn’t believe it when they heard about Ding’s arrest, saying, “It can't be true. Ding is such a good person. It must be a mistake.”
It was only after years that Luo learned that Katherine couldn’t understand her father’s actions during that time. She was crying every day in high school in secret as she didn’t want to expose her vulnerability in front of her classmates. She believed that he didn’t love her mother, nor did he love her and her younger sister. She felt sorry for herself and her mother.
According to Luo, both of her daughters have endured psychological trauma because of Ding’s absence in their upbringing. Katherine has refused to read any letters written by Ding. “I didn’t know how to approach the subject of their father with them,” Luo confessed. Throughout the years, her greatest regret has been her relationship with her daughters.
Katherine and Caroline declined to be interviewed for the Reuters’ profile on Ding Jiaxi. Upon discussion with Luo, I decided to not reach out to them for comment by the time of publication.
XIII.
Luo didn’t want her neighbors in Alfred to think of her as a single mother. She feared this label would set her apart, making her seem peculiar or somehow lesser, so she consistently made a conscious effort to inform others that she indeed had a husband. She hated it when others inquired regarding Ding’s whereabouts, but she tried to answer with the most cheerful tone that he was occupied with his business in China but made regular visits to be with them.
In the initial six months of her relocation, Luo found herself unable to participate in any form of entertainment – movies, novels, or music – as each one served as a poignant reminder of Ding. Often, Luo was haunted by the thoughts of escaping this world, yet the sight of her daughters pulled her back from the edge of suicide, reminding her of the unfinished responsibility as a mother. She tried not to cry in front of them. She had to compose herself and stay focused on her daily work, secure a home, a car, enroll her daughters in school, transition herself culturally to the States, and apply for political asylum.
On top of the hustle, Luo reminded herself that Ding must come home: This is why I left China, to secure a safer environment for myself and my daughters, so that I could be a stronger advocate for Ding’s cause.
In July, Luo wrote an open letter to Beijing Procuratorate,“I am an ordinary wife who has shared twenty years of life with Ding Jiaxi. I know my husband has not committed any crime and was incapable of doing so. All he possessed was a fervent love for his country and the conscience of an ordinary person… If my husband truly committed any crime, I requested you to inform me, my lawyers, and all the concerned family and friends, without trying to silence public outcry by deleting online voices or comments that demanded justice for Ding.”
“My husband has always been honest and genuine in his dealings,” Luo wrote, “and I hoped the Procuratorate would do the same.”
As Luo was working with Jiaxi's friends to raise Ding’s case, she began to make a daily commitment to follow the news, and pondered the values he once emphasized: “freedom, justice, and love.”
“I began, just as Jiaxi had advised, to embrace the pursuit of democracy and freedom as a way of life, making it a part of my daily routine,” Luo said.
Luo said her transformation started from one simple idea: she knew who her husband was – an upright and principled Chinese lawyer who cared about the future of China. And if someone as generous and kind as Ding could be arrested by the authorities, then there must be something fundamentally wrong within the country.
In 2014, when Luo accepted the 28th Outstanding Democratic Activist Award by the China Democracy Education Foundation on behalf of Ding, she gave the following speech:
“Ever since Jiaxi was arrested, it feels as if I have opened my eyes for the first time to see a real China – the great country we were taught about in our childhood textbooks, the harmonious nation with stable democracy and the rule of law propagated in today’s Chinese newspapers. But actually, she is being humiliated by tyranny, ruled by oppression. Her officials are corrupted without bounds. Her children on this land are constantly threatened with illiteracy, drug abuse, and the possibility of being raped. Her people's homes are plundered, their land seized. They are beaten on the streets, tortured in black jails, and subjected to constant surveillance, tracking, and unwarranted searches. The mouths of her citizens are directly or indirectly sealed, only allowed to be silent and compliant like pigs content with three meals a day. The so-called Chinese Dream is nothing but a nightmarish creation by the Chinese authorities, who have no lack of excuses to inflict their wickedness upon us. What I see is not my beloved motherland; what I see is unmistakably a colossal prison!”
In the rare moments of solitude, she would write to Ding while imagining herself across from him during a prison visit. In their correspondence, Ding assured her that he was eating well, sleeping soundly, and even continuing to work out while incarcerated. He had plenty of time to read whatever books were available to him and delved into profound questions about the human body, nature, society, and existence. In March 2015, Ding even wrote down his contemplations on 36 questions, ranging from “How can humans understand the world?” and “Will religion fade away?” to “Can we eliminate war?” and “Will democracy become the prevailing global system?” and shared them with his daughter Katherine. Luo was relieved; it seemed as if the moment he entered prison, he had instantaneously “attained Buddhahood” and made peace with his situation.
“In these three and half years, I withered when his letters didn’t arrive,” Luo said. She listened to the audio recording of Ding’s message brought out by his lawyer again and again and transcribed them into articles for publication. “But whenever I heard his voice or read his words, it made me alive once again.”
XIV.
On March 15, 2014, two weeks after being in critical condition, Luo’s mother fell into a coma for several days.
After receiving the message from her brother, Luo dashed through the snow early in the morning. The chilling wind brushed past her ears. Her thoughts drifted back to her mother, who had single-handedly raised six children while her husband endured exile in a remote labor camp for a decade.
Now, I, as her daughter, she thought, accompanied by her two granddaughters, also endure the painful wait for my innocent husband. Six decades have passed, and history is repeating itself.
Luo yearned to return to China and visit her mother one final time. She knew that her mother’s biggest concern in her last days was for her and Ding. However, she couldn’t take the risk. What if I couldn’t return to the U.S.? she thought. What would happen to my children in that situation? She prayed for her mother’s forgiveness, and went to bed with a heavy heart, hoping that her mother would bid her a farewell in her dream.
The next day, she was notified that her mother had passed away.
“Mom didn’t appear in my dreams. She must have been mad at me for not coming home to see her. My heart is aching and numbing.” Luo wrote in her diary. “Being in church this morning, I imagined my mom was in heaven listening to me sing songs of Christ, and would understand how painfully and powerlessly I missed her. I repented for my failure of family responsibilities.”
During her graduate studies at Alfred University, Luo had converted to Christianity. She had been grappling with the meaning of the world and life since young, and once she read the Bible, she connected with its core teaching: honesty, kindness, the value of family, and most importantly, the fact that we all have sinned and need to repent.
At times, she found herself pondering why the all-powerful God didn't simply eliminate the CCP and all the injustices prevailing in the world. She questioned why, knowing the depth of her love for Ding, God would allow her to endure such struggles and uncertainties in their relationship.
Luo told me recently that she was inspired by the story of Exodus. When Moses tried to lead the Israelites out of Egypt, their initial reactions were filled with doubt, fear, and complaints due to their long-standing oppression. Some hesitated to believe him, while others grumbled during their journey through the wilderness. She contemplated that perhaps China needed to undergo the harrowing experience of dictatorship to truly value democracy, just as she needed to endure the pain of separation from Ding before fully savoring the sweetness of their love.
XV.
February 15, 2014, Saturday:
It's been almost ten months since you were imprisoned, and I've been in the United States for a solid eight months. I think I’ve done a pretty good job. I've managed to build a home, settle the children, and organize my work to the point where I no longer need to carry a pile of things home every day. We should’ve done something meaningful on the past Valentine’s Days. This morning, while running with Caroline, I decided to start keeping a diary. Since you continue to haunt my heart, perhaps having you before my eyes and engaging in a dialogue with you every day could be the best way to endure these difficult times.
February 18, 2014, Tuesday:
Today, after taking the children to their violin lessons and returning home, I suddenly felt incredibly unhappy… I feel uncomfortable every time I prepare documents for the asylum application, knowing that your hard-earned qualifications and practicing license as a lawyer will be revoked from the day of your conviction. It’s a feeling of regret, a feeling of knowing the consequences but unable to change the past.
The plumbing still hasn’t been fixed. I doubt it will be fixed by tomorrow. The feeling of not having anyone to consult about anything made me burst into tears.
I want to check WeChat, but at the same time, I dread it. Whenever I do check, I’m left disappointed. Truly, besides a limited few within your circle, many people simply don’t care. They don’t understand democracy, and they can’t make a living out of it. To them, why bother with democracy when losing their freedom for the sake of freedom seems like a self-inflicted punishment.
February 25, 2014, Tuesday:
You, with your magnanimous nature, always consider others and their needs, yet you chose me, a woman who simply desires your undivided attention… You will never change for me, but God demands that I change for you. Isn’t that somewhat unfair of God?
March 24, 2014, Monday:
[A journalist] called me and said that she wanted to interview me. Despite having a pile of work to tackle today, I agreed without hesitation. Was it an irrational decision? Our conversation stretched on for two hours, and I told her many stories about you and me that I had never before shared with anyone. After the call ended, I found myself wide awake. I miss you so, so much. I wonder if you would mind me discussing our love story and everyday life details with others. I hope you won’t take offense.
I once told someone that I came into this world to love you, but when asked if I believe that Ding Jiaxi also thinks of us and loves us every day, I surprisingly lacked the confidence to answer yes. I still feel that you care more about others than about us, that you prioritize society over our family. Is it true? You came into this world not solely for us, but for something else, right?
April 23, 2014, Wednesday:
In these three years, I will manage to keep everything in order. I will participate in various activities that make me happy, and I will try my best to take care of myself, although it is undeniably challenging because I cannot let go of the hopeless love for you. Each day, I will feel fulfilled, and I will even laugh out loud, leaving no trace of sadness. But I truly cannot find a shred of happiness anymore…
It has been a whole year, and to be honest, I am deeply unhappy and far from feeling content. Since you’re so smart, could you teach me: how can I navigate through the remaining two years without you?
May 25, 2014, Sunday:
Last weekend, the university was on break, and the village was strangely quiet. I suddenly felt a deep sense of depression, as if life had lost its meaning and hope. Despite the comforting words from friends at church, all I could do was cry.
This week, by a chance encounter, I came across a song titled “Amazing Grace,” which speaks of God’s immense love. I listened to it while going about my tasks, and I found myself listening to it for the entire evening. It sparked deep contemplation within me, and I felt like I suddenly understood many things. I have decided to dive into reading the Bible more attentively. I have always felt that I am under God’s protection, and I am sincerely grateful for this.
June 22, 2014, Sunday:
My dear politician, I understand that even if you were in the United States and your ideals were not realized, you would still feel imprisoned. I don’t want to turn our home into your prison!
August 19, 2014, Tuesday:
Today’s work tasks involve delving into the meticulous realm of project financials, urging myself to learn to like financial management. Additionally, I need to measure Katherine’s blanket to prepare for sewing a new cover and chair cushion for her.
September 16, 2014, Sunday:
In the blink of an eye, nearly a month has passed since I last received a letter from you. Every day, I eagerly wait for your response, but to no avail. Have you read the letter I wrote to you? Why haven’t I received any word from you? Is it inconvenient for you to communicate? Did I say too much in my letter to you? Are you unwilling to let me know about your situation in prison? Or perhaps the prison simply did not deliver my letter to you?
October 12, 2014, Sunday:
This morning, I spent some time browsing Twitter before getting up to go for a run. As I jogged, I thought I truly am so busy now – I have to take over and embrace all aspects of life on your behalf: exercising, savoring delicious food, appreciating the beauty around me. I also have to continue advancing the cause of democracy for you. And let’s not forget studying the Bible together. In simple terms, I have to live a life meant for two people.
There’s no time left for hesitation or uncertainty. I feel a surge of energy propelling me forward, firing up every fiber of my body… At the end of the session, pastor Laurie DeMott mentioned that she wanted me to talk to the kids next week about China – about what's happening there now and the situation of your imprisonment. She urged me to share the true China with them. I immediately agreed. I feel it’s my duty to spread the truth, an obligation I cannot ignore.
November 7, 2014, Friday:
Work has been progressing relatively smoothly this week, so I decided to take it easy tonight. After dinner, I sat by the radiator and couldn't resist browsing through WeChat, Facebook, and Twitter. Although compared to other cases of “prisoner of conscience,” our situation may not be the worst, I still can’t help but feel that the past three and a half years have been incredibly unjust for you! Everything you did was to help the government, but those fools failed to understand and insisted on finding a pretext to lock you up.
From time to time, I feel an urge to gather all the families of prisoners of conscience and write a letter to Xi Jinping and those brainless fools in the central government, urging them to open their eyes and see the world, to wake up! They need to listen to the voice of history. The Hong Kong students’ Occupy Central movement is still enduring with difficulty, and I applaud Zhou Fengsuo for going to Hong Kong to support them. However, I still worry about their safety.
Tomorrow marks the 25th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall… How much longer does China's authoritarian rule have to persist?
April 8, 2015, Wednesday:
I am actively studying basic financial concepts and learning how to file taxes, specifically understanding those concepts in English. I no longer procrastinate from this task like before. I used to have numerous sweet treats just to calm my mind while facing tax forms. But now, that is no longer necessary. Encourage me to continue striving and become the expert in our family, won’t you?
June 21, 2015, Sunday:
Feeling disheartened as my company has not assigned any projects for me to manage. To overcome this sense of disappointment and the anxiety for your letter, I decided to join Luanne in preparing for the choir performance on Alfred’s alumni day, which will take place on Saturday, June 13. We will be singing several quite difficult songs. Following the recordings, I have been practicing hard for almost an entire week. The melodies and lyrics of those songs are lingering in my head even now!
July 13, 2015, Monday:
This is a vast void,
It is present when I am joyful,
And it remains when I am not,
I cannot push it away, nor can I drive it out,
I strive to avoid stepping into this abyss,
With utmost caution,
Yet it lingers by my side,
What is it?
To be continued next week.