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... e bedrooms, a living room to the left and a kitchen to the right, held almost all of Jiang Qins cherished memories.

His mother, Yuan Youqin, was cooking, her chopping on the cutting board loud and clear, a sound indicative of a meat dish, and one with bones at that.

His father, Jiang Zhenghong, sat on the sofa reading the newspaper, humming The Clouds of My Hometown, his slippers dangling from his toes.

Feeling the familiar warmth of home, Jiang Qin couldnt help but becom ...

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