Writing
01 · Row’s Stories
How I take in the world: ideas caught the moment they arrive.
background

These are experiments in writing across languages: some are ideas I gave myself an hour to finish, others came out of writing jams.

Writing in a language that isn’t my first keeps me away from extra adjectives and emotional coloring. The stories move through what the characters do, and dialogue carries the bonds between them. Verbs become a game’s interactions; nouns become its art and settings.

about row

Since 2025, fragments of stories have been finding me: along the river in Savannah, at a campus bus stop, in an airport in Shanghai, on a crowded New York subway. I catch them in the cracks of busy days and develop them from there.

Why are they all named Row? Friends often ask whether it is an IP. I don’t really know. I just can’t write a story that doesn’t belong to him. It feels like one boy living many lives at once. Or perhaps everyone is one person living through different things: strangers, still intertwined like roots underground.

That is everything I know about Row so far. I hope to find the answer as I keep writing.

Row
Row’s Summer Drifting
the drifting soldier
The river kept carrying me home. Nobody looked up when I arrived.
A soldier killed in the war drifts downriver, clutching a broken branch, and finally makes it home, only to realize he is already dead.

The soldier endures countless hardships, struggling with an unwavering will to survive on the open water.

But when he finally drifts back to his hometown and sees his family again, he realizes the truth — he has already died.

read →
Side Effects
the one who got better
Row, a patient with delusional disorder, has been cured. But the side effects of recovery seem to be only beginning.
Row recovers from his delusions. Then the “side effects” set in: he misses the lover he imagined, and cries alone at home.

Row, once a patient with delusional disorder, has finally recovered. But the side effects of being cured have only just begun.

At the clinic, the doctor, his family, and friends congratulate him. A diagnosis form of “Recovered from Delusional Disorder” is handed to him. Row returns to his normal life, but a quiet emptiness follows him everywhere.

During another ordinary day, he keeps thinking about the cause of his illness — his imaginary girlfriend. After work, he goes to their usual café, drinks coffee alone, and watches children swinging in the park. But she never appears again.

That night, when he returns home, he suddenly begins to cry. This is the true side effect of being cured.

read →
He Met the Tree, the Mole, and the Core of the Earth
the man with the basket
Every day the rope goes a little lower. Someone down there will answer.
A lonely man lowers a basket from his window every day until the rope goes underground, where he meets a tree, a mole and the Earth’s core, and finally becomes a tree himself.

Row is a lonely, eccentric man living alone in an old building. Every day, he lowers a basket from his window with notes asking for help. Passersby sometimes respond, sometimes ignore him. People start to wonder: Who lives up there?

Day after day, the same lonely rope hangs from the fourth floor — carrying strange messages, small requests, and bits of payment. Over time, the rope grows longer, digging into the ground. At its end, Row meets a tree, a mole, and finally the Earth’s core — and in the end, he becomes a tree himself.

read →
I Wish I Could Live in a Painting
the boy with the painting
Somewhere out here is the door into my mother’s painting.
A boy loves his mother’s painting so much that he sets out to find a way inside it.

A boy named Row loves one of his mother’s paintings more than anything. He dreams of living inside it one day.

Carrying the painting, he leaves home and begins to wander — searching for places in the real world that resemble the scenery within the frame, hoping to find the entrance to the painted world.

Along the way, he jumps into ponds, crosses bridges holding lotus leaves, and finally reaches the edge of the painting. There, the painted world becomes real, and his parents turn into figures inside a painting. In the end, he steps into another canvas — returning to reality.

read →
The Obituary of the Stars
the astronomer
Tonight I’m writing a goodbye for a star no one else will miss.
Row, an astronomer, loses his job when humanity stops exploring space. He moves to a small town and writes obituaries for dying stars.

Row is an astronomer. After graduation, when humanity stops exploring space, he loses his job.

To continue observing celestial data, he moves to a small town and takes on a strange task — writing obituaries for dying stars.

Meanwhile, news of an approaching meteor shower and the end of the world throws the entire town into unrest.

read →
The Universe Before My Birth
the one not yet born
I haven’t been born yet, but I already know how my mother cries.
Before he is born, Row feels his mother’s dreams, pain and memories: the secret world she lives in before his life begins.

Row is still an unborn baby. His mother dreams, and fragments of that dream drift into his unformed mind.

News arrives: his father has died in the war. Then comes the long journey, the relocation, and the pain buried far away.

During the three months before his birth, with only a faint consciousness, Row experiences a secret part of his mother’s life — her grief, silence, and unspoken despair — things he would never know after he is born.

Without a complete brain, he can only feel through weak sensations, sharing her emotions and pain in fragments. That was the world before his birth.

read →
drag a story onto Row · double-click a story to open it
tap a story to hand it to Row · tap it again to open
all stories
Row as the drifting soldier
“The river kept carrying me home. Nobody looked up when I arrived.”
A soldier killed in the war drifts downriver, clutching a broken branch, and finally makes it home, only to realize he is already dead.
Read →
Row as the one who got better
Row, a patient with delusional disorder, has been cured. But the side effects of recovery seem to be only beginning.
Row recovers from his delusions. Then the “side effects” set in: he misses the lover he imagined, and cries alone at home.
Read →
Row as the man with the basket
“Every day the rope goes a little lower. Someone down there will answer.”
A lonely man lowers a basket from his window every day until the rope goes underground, where he meets a tree, a mole and the Earth’s core, and finally becomes a tree himself.
Read →
Row as the boy with the painting
“Somewhere out here is the door into my mother’s painting.”
A boy loves his mother’s painting so much that he sets out to find a way inside it.
Read →
Row as the astronomer
“Tonight I’m writing a goodbye for a star no one else will miss.”
Row, an astronomer, loses his job when humanity stops exploring space. He moves to a small town and writes obituaries for dying stars.
Read →
Row as the one not yet born
“I haven’t been born yet, but I already know how my mother cries.”
Before he is born, Row feels his mother’s dreams, pain and memories: the secret world she lives in before his life begins.
Read →
02 · Writing Kit
Writing is a craft with patterns. Inspiration alone doesn’t make a good story; what makes one is narrative pattern and structure. These are short case studies on how stories move people, and the methods I bring from them into my own work.
Case study 01 · Close reading · 重逢
“It wraps an inevitable impossibility in the shell of an accidental miss.”
Why does a reunion we’ve all seen a hundred times still hit so hard? A four-layer method for taking an emotional moment apart: plot, form, structure, theme.
Read →
Case study 02 · Design & live ops · 初心
“We didn’t feel the love. So we didn’t buy it.”
A romance game revealed a sixth love interest and canceled him eight days later. It wasn’t about his looks. A four-layer test for launching a new character into a world players love: looks, fit, trust and meaning.
Read →
Case study 03 · Close reading · 自由
“What moves us is not her love. It is her freedom.”
Why does a woman who loses everything still read as free? One line from The Story of Adèle H., and how to write freedom as a motif by showing what it costs.
Read →
03 · Essays
Systematic analysis: research writing on theater, space and media.
Bachelor’s thesis · Theater management · 2021
“Buildings that can be converted, the work on their stages and the people who make it.”
Why Kunming became the city where old courtyards turned into theaters, what converted venues in Japan and Shanghai can teach it, and five ways to help the model grow. Full thesis in English and Chinese.
Read →
Essay · Adaptation & film theory
“Adaptation loses least when it translates rather than transcribes.”
Every adaptation carries a story from one medium into another. Reading that crossing through Walter Benjamin’s idea of aura, this essay asks how adaptation can lose less along the way, and even renew film’s aura.
Read →
Essay · Theater & digital media
“A review of its development, its challenges, and paths to transformation.”
How a distinctly Chinese performance space, small, historic and intimate, can use digital media to reach beyond its walls without losing what makes it special.
Read →
04 · Fan Fiction
Stories across narrative products, and how each medium shapes what a story can be.
About this section

Here I treat fan fiction as narrative design practice. I take an existing narrative product, study how its format shapes the way stories get told, then write something original in that product’s own language. The question is never “what happens next?” It’s “what kind of story could only be told here?”

Love and Deepspace: the card as the narrative unit
Observation
Love and Deepspace doesn’t tell its best stories through the main plot. It tells them through cards. The main plot has to answer “what happened?” A card only has to ask “what if?”
Design call
Let the main plot fade into the background. Each card is a self-contained shard of time and space. Cards don’t have to explain each other, and they don’t have to make room for each other.
Mechanic
So I write the way the cards work. The player, Miss Hunter, isn’t holding a single timeline; she’s holding a hand of fragments. How she orders them, pairs them and flips them is up to her. Each combination unlocks a different meeting, and a different aftermath. The story stops being something the writer hands down and becomes something the player puts together.
Card structure
Card art (the image) · Card line (the hook) · Story (the fragment) · Bond unlock (an echo in the present-day timeline)
Card theme: just before we met

Five stories that never happened. Five stories happening now. Five possibilities, each one a blessing and a wish. Fate comes apart thread by thread, and running through every version is a love that never burns out.

Card 01 · Qin Che
The Night Before the Bell
Inspired by The Hunchback of Notre-Dame

Before he was Qin Che, the one who can do anything, the one who keeps everyone safe, he was a boy alone in a tower. Scared, and shunned by everyone around him, he kept cutting off the dragon horns that grew out of him and breaking them into pieces. Again and again.

How much does it have to hurt before you can break your own bones with your bare hands, not once but over and over?

A power you can’t hold back, growing out of your own body. Fear. Helplessness. The whispers. Confidence. Courage. Strength. In the end, they were all the same thing.

That was me before I met you.

Full story · Coming soon
05 · Travel Notes
Places I have been, and the stories inside the photos. Click a photo to read its story.
06 · Game Notes
Games I have played: first impressions, then a closer reading of how they tell their stories.