Looking at my name, you might wonder what brings a Chinese writer to your post.
I felt drawn to leave a note here because I’ve been reflecting on how language has the power to bridge our worlds—and yet, sometimes, quietly pull us apart.
A little about me: I live immersed in a tapestry of tongues—Chinese, English, Malay, Hokkien, Hakka, Cantonese, Korean, Japanese... yet somehow, I often feel I cannot speak a single "pure" sentence in any one of them.
English is not my mother tongue, as you can likely tell from my prose, but I hope my words carry through without burdening you.
I am a quiet soul. Perhaps that is why I became a writer—so that ink could give shape to what my voice leaves unsaid. I suppose I’m a bit of an eccentric, too. I frequently find myself conversing with trees, animals, and children. In their presence, I find a gentle ease that adults often lack, entangled as we are in unspoken conflicts and the weight of our own egos.
(In case anyone here reads Chinese, I will leave this next thought in my native tongue:)
我不知道你们会不会看中文。如果你们看得懂中文，就会知道我的写作风格偏向细腻的情感。我喜欢细致的描摹，因为我相信，人与人之间最深沉的交融，莫过于真诚。
(I don’t know if any of you read Chinese. If you do, you might recognize that my writing centers on delicate emotions. I love nuance and depth, for I truly believe that the most profound connection between human hearts is sincerity.)
The Chinese writing community is filled with legendary authors, where emotional fiction often struggles to find its quiet corner. So to all of you in this English creative space—I truly wish you peace and joy on your journeys.165Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCaCfaC622v
and then Add to home screen.