Photos of the two when they were young
55 years later, wedding photos during a break, all pictures provided by the interviewee
A farewell photo taken at West Lake before their breakup
Spending their twilight years together
55 years ago, they met by the shores of Xizi Lake; 55 years later, they held hands on Gulangyu Island.
By Deng Qiong of Yangcheng Evening News and special contributor Ma Zhidan
They,
elderly octogenarians, yet newlyweds,
once deeply in love, then separated by life's twists,
fifty-five years is no short span,
Eurasia's ends no mere arm's length apart,
Yet unbroken,
is the thread of longing that binds them―their love.
They are not an example of a "sunset romance"―though on September 26th this year, when they got married in Xiamen, Chinese groom Yuan Dibao was already 82 years old, and Franco-Chinese bride Li Dannie was 83.
This is a reunion after 55 years: In September 1953, Li Dannie and Yuan Dibao fell in love, both in the prime of their youth; in August 1955, they parted ways, separated by oceans and years of longing. In the spring of 2010, Yuan Dibao sent two identical letters from Xiamen, each containing only four sentences, prompting Li Dannie, who had remained single all her life, to fly from Lyon, France, to reunite with her long-lost love.
In the autumn just passed, this deep affection, which traversed more than half a century and lingered across the Eurasian continent, finally found its way home as the skies blushed with evening glow.
This love story, more intricate and enchanting than many novels or films, has captured immense attention. Yet, unwilling to repeatedly uncover the sealed past, many details and hidden truths of the story have remained unknown to outsiders.
Perhaps because Li Dannie’s father was a close friend and classmate of the renowned painter Lin Fengmian from Meixian, Guangdong, her deep attachment to her ancestral homeland led her and her new husband to grant exclusive interviews to the Yangcheng Evening News and the production team of “People Abroad” from Guangdong Television. Our newspaper will publish continuous reports over the next two days. The high-definition documentary produced by Guangdong Television, titled *The Hawthorn Tree Love - Li Dannie and Yuan Dibao Reunite After 55 Years*, will premiere on Guangdong Satellite TV on December 8th and 9th at 11:06 PM.
If you believe in love, this story will bring warmth; otherwise, it will bring faith.
Fate
When they met, they were both in the bloom of youth. She came from Beijing to Hangzhou, where she became his teacher. Destiny cannot be denied...
After their “new marriage,” the elderly couple now resides in Yuan Dibao’s home in Xiamen. By the sea, the November winds have grown cool. Amidst Li Dannie’s repeated inquiries of “Are you cold?” Yuan Dibao donned a bright yellow jacket, smiling as he said, “Let’s dress up nicely.” He wanted to warmly welcome the visiting journalists.
Whoever sees Li Dannie’s youthful photos would marvel at her purity and beauty. She entrusted her entire youthful vigor to one person.
In 2007, on the occasion of Li Dannie’s eightieth birthday, the Sino-French Affairs Association of Lyon, France, published a biography in her honor to recognize her special contributions to Sino-French cultural exchange: *Half-Breed - A Woman Between China and France*. The cover features an ink painting by Lin Fengmian. A solitary black goose struggles against the wind. Dannie says, “Look, the clouds are moving in the opposite direction, against the wind, against the current. Everything is contrary, and so has been my whole life.” Fortunately, in her later years, she can add the most “smooth” chapter to this book.
Li Dannie’s father, Li Shuhua, was a Thai overseas Chinese from Meixian, Guangdong. From childhood, Li Shuhua returned to China for education. During his studies at Mei County Middle School, he befriended Lin Fengmian. After the Xinhai Revolution, Lin Fengmian organized 130 youths from Meizhou to see the world. Li Shuhua secretly left home, joined his fellow townspeople, and sailed overseas in 1919 to study and work in France.
Dannie recounts, “Mr. Lin Fengmian studied art, while my father attended the Lyon National Conservatory of Music. They were always very good friends.” In 1926, Li Shuhua married a French woman and returned to Beijing the same year, serving as the director of the music department at the Beijing National Academy of Arts, working alongside Lin Fengmian. On May 24, 1927, Li Shuhua’s only daughter was born in Beijing, named Li Chen Sheng, with the French name Dannie. Later, Li Shuhua moved his family to Hangzhou with Lin Fengmian, continuing to teach music at the West Lake Art Institute.
In September 1973, while residing in Lyon, France, Li Dannie packed a large batch of letters Yuan Dibao had written to her over the years. On the package, she wrote by hand: “I will never have the courage to reread these unfulfilled dreams of happiness.” At the time, she could not have imagined that one day these letters would return to Yuan Dibao, the sender.
In September 1953, Yuan Dibao, originally from Shanghang, Fujian, entered Zhejiang Medical College to study, becoming one of the first undergraduates in public health after the founding of New China. His Russian teacher was Li Dannie, who graduated from the Foreign Languages Department of Zhejiang University in 1950 and was proficient in English, French, Russian, German, and Chinese. This beautiful mixed-race woman was one year older than Yuan Dibao. Both had bright, intelligent eyes and immediately connected upon meeting, exchanging friendly glances filled with understanding.
Li Dannie recalls clearly: “That was the largest class I ever taught in my life—120 students!” As the class monitor and representative for Russian, Yuan Dibao consistently scored full marks on his Russian exams. His diligence and excellence left a deep impression on Dannie, while her professional dedication earned his admiration.
Dannie says, “We interacted quite a lot, unintentionally, I often sought him out. I think I was the more proactive one back then.” Dibao recalls, “We shared the same religious beliefs. Plus, she frequently lent me dictionaries, reference books, even daily necessities like sweaters… She once knitted me a white wool sweater. I was deeply moved; we were poor kids back then.” Hearing this, Dannie blushes slightly and looks down.
However, she admits, “At that time, what feeling did we have? We felt alike, as if we were one person.”
Destiny
The love by the West Lake seemed destined to carry a certain fragmented beauty; perhaps complete love is inherently incomplete...
From the early autumn of 1946 to the summer of 1956, Li Dannie spent eleven years in university, both as a student and a teacher. Unlike other girls of her age, she stood out not only for her mixed-race appearance but also for her habit of wearing cheongsams (qipaos) year-round.
Dannie loved beauty and maintained an independent personality. “Back then, people criticized me for loving cheongsams. I replied, ‘At least from the back, people know I’m a girl.’ Why should women be forced to look ugly? What harm does it do to the country if women dress well?” Even today, one can sense the indignation in the elderly woman’s voice.
Though petite, Dannie had a stubborn character and wouldn’t easily yield once she made up her mind. For instance, on March 5, 1953, when Stalin passed away, there were grand mourning ceremonies across China. During the memorial activities at Zhejiang Medical College, everyone wore black armbands, but Dannie refused, saying, “Why should I wear one? No one in my family has died.” During the ceremony, when participants were required to raise their hands multiple times to chant slogans, she grew annoyed. Some classmates feared she might get into trouble and tried to lift her arms for her. “I always said I wasn’t interested in politics. My father believed in 'Gentlemen do not form cliques.' But gradually, I learned to conform, knowing others were watching me closely.”
On the picturesque coastal road of Xiamen, the elderly couple strolls hand in hand, singing songs from their youth under the sea breeze. One such song is the American film *The Great Waltz*’s insert song *When We Were Young*: “When we were young / In a wonderful May morning / You said you loved me / When we were young.” Fifty-five years ago in Hangzhou, those days of courtship were witnessed by the clear waters of the West Lake.
Dannie recounts, “We often went for walks by the West Lake, starting from Broken Bridge along Bai Causeway, passing through Pinghu Autumn Moon, Yi Zhuang, Solitary Hill, and returning via the Inner Lake—it was a small circle. Sometimes, we’d climb Gemstone Hill, staying there for hours before descending from the rear mountain to go home…” Dibao remembers, “We would sit beneath Baochu Pagoda, talking and courting. After about an hour, we'd slowly walk back, I'd escort her home, then return to school for self-study. This routine lasted for a year or two.”
In early August 1955, due to adjustments in the higher education system, the hygiene department of Zhejiang Medical College where Dibao studied was to be merged into Huaxi Medical College in Chengdu. Before leaving, Dibao appeared preoccupied, and Dannie sensed something was amiss.
Dannie says, “I had a premonition then. He had something he didn’t dare tell me, fearing it would upset me. It must have been that.” Floating amidst the colorful fish in the pond at Flower Harbor Viewing Fish, sitting beneath the lotus flowers, Dibao confided his worries: Originally, less than two weeks before leaving for university, pressured by his sister, Dibao hastily married her colleague Huang Xiuxue after a brief acquaintance. At the same moment, Dannie also learned that Dibao was about to leave for Chengdu.
Dannie’s immediate reaction was that she had no right to build her happiness on another woman’s unhappiness. “To snatch someone else’s happiness, I couldn’t accept that result.” “I told him, from today onward, we must part ways. There’s no other path. Each of us must walk our own road. He remained silent, saying nothing. I think he agreed, which is why he didn’t respond.” Only then did Dannie truly understand why Dibao sometimes appeared melancholy.
Upon returning home that day, Dannie informed her mother of her decision, and her mother concurred, adding, “There’s no longer a place for you here.” On August 5, 1955, just before Dibao was about to leave Hangzhou for Chengdu, they took a final photograph together on Su Causeway, with Three Pools Mirroring the Moon in the background—a lasting memory of their youthful faces.
Waiting
“He never forgot me, just as I never forgot him. Only one person resides in my heart… and that’s him.”
Despite verbal “breakups” and actual separations, neither of them cooled in their feelings for each other.
They wrote letters to each other every day, each letter being at least two thousand words long. To save money, they accumulated a week's worth of letters before sending them together.
“I am passionately in love with you, I am passionately in love with you, day and night, missing you just as you love me. If I am melancholic for your sake, I beg for your compassion. To gain your compassion, I would willingly die for you… I pray to heaven to bestow upon us, bestow upon us, bestow upon us.” This was written by Dibao on the evening of September 17, 1955, under a park lamppost. Today, only the letters Dibao sent, which Dannie brought to Lyon, France, and cherished for half a lifetime, remain visible; her replies and mementos have long since disappeared.
Beside the star near the Baoshu Pagoda on Hangzhou’s Gemstone Hill, called Venus or Shepherd’s Star, Dibao and Dannie agreed that this star belonged to them. Anything they wished to share could be told to the star, and the other would feel it intuitively. Dibao wrote in his letter, “These days, after evening self-study, I silently think of the direction you might be in at the edge of the sky… Venus, seeing it feels like seeing you. The sole tangible comfort now is the Venus we first saw together on Bai Causeway, which we decided from the start would be the symbol of our love.”
Love may be selfish, but despite their deep affection for each other, and though Yuan Dibao’s marriage was more out of obedience to his sister, neither entertained thoughts of divorce and remarriage. In late 1959, Yuan Dibao’s second son was born. To commemorate this secret love pact in his heart, he gave the child the nickname “Venus.”
After Yuan Dibao left, Dannie began her own life, unaware that a much longer separation awaited.
In late March 1956, Li Dannie decided to speak with the leaders of Zhejiang Medical College. Having worked as an assistant teacher for six years, she had received the same salary of 60 yuan for six years. Dannie, a youth living in the new China, raised in an atmosphere of patriotism, yearned for progress. She wanted to ask, “Where is my future?”
But the leader’s response, “We always feel that you lack any political awareness,” made her realize her situation. Her Christian background and insistence on individuality made her appear incompatible with the environment.
Initially seeking hope and expectations, the result was that Dannie left with a sudden decision. Returning home, she told her mother she wanted to leave and return to France. Little did she know at the time that this departure would mean reuniting with Yuan Dibao only fifty-five years later.
After separating from Dannie, Yuan Dibao would, every lunar August 15th, hold mementos or photos of Dannie from seven to nine in the evening under a solitary tree, gazing at the moon in remembrance. He asked Dannie to pause whatever she was doing to jointly commemorate the moment.
After returning to France, Dannie never dated or married. She knew, “He never forgot me, just as I never forgot him. Writing the book *Half-Breed*, people often asked me, how could a girl like you never be loved by anyone in her entire life? I replied, only one person resides in my heart, only one boy truly loved me, and that’s him.”