Author: Anyi He
In my grandmother’s 唐氏族谱, out of tens of thousands of tangs, my Great-grandfather Tang Ce An was the most accomplished among them. He attended the Whampoa Military Academy and fought wars with the Japanese. His life was the rise and fall of my family in the early 20th century, from the Xinhai revolution to the Communist takeover. From documenting him as the stem of my family, I hope to restore my family legacy that was largely lost in the cultural revolution. Through this practice, I hope to overcome the taboos of the past and continue the 400-year family tradition into the future.
Introduction
由宗族的团结扩充到民族的大团结,这是中国人才有的良好传统观念,应妥加运用。-孙中山
家谱所载者一族耳,一世不修,则昭穆之序必乱。 - 清咸丰《开县志》序言
The expansion from clan unity to the great unity of the nation is a fine traditional concept unique to the Chinese people and should be properly utilized. — Sun Yat-sen
The genealogy records only one clan; if it is not revised for a generation, the order of ancestors and descendants will inevitably become confused. — Preface to the Gazetteer of Kaixian County during the Xianfeng era of the Qing Dynasty.
From the very beginning of the Chinese cultural legacy, we have all been the people of Huang Di or the Yellow Emperor. His blood passed to all of us across thousands of generations. What defines the Chinese culture is our family unity and our echo of brotherhood. Stories of families often serve as poignant reflections of the broader struggles and triumphs, symbolizing the nation's spirit as a whole. However, family tradition has become lucid in the modern era due to historical catastrophes and cultural degradation. The Industrial Revolution, the Cultural Revolution, and political disturbances withered the unity tree. To this day, many of the ancient sagas are either forgotten or buried in the desolate balcony. The collective spirit passed across thousands of generations has been unhinged or even destroyed. My family faced the same. The past was forgotten, and in the New Era of China, people seem only to be looking forward but rarely look back to our past. There is the constructed collective past, of course, but they lack adherence to everyone. Through this project, I hope to restore the family history as concrete as possible and continue our cultural heritage.
The reconstruction of the family history is difficult and confusing. After the cultural revolution, due to fear and indifference, much of the family history became fragments or even legends. Some of them were lost forever, and some of them were distorted and misspoken. Different sources might point to different results, and one person might have more than 4 names. I had to interview many of the elders with help from established historical data and try to weave the truth from mythologies. Of course, even with this effort, the story created won’t be 100% accurate, and this flawless should actually be seen as part of history. Because of the epic elements, we know the difficulty of histories and the importance of recording them. Also, it is only the veiled history that adds to our sense of reverence for our past. The paradox and incongruence are what make the family dynamic epic and holy.
Chapter 1: The Ancestral Roots
My grandmother's last name, Tang, is my family's most ancient traceable line. According to the legend, Tang Yao, also known as Fangxun, was the Progenitor of all Tangs. Yao is a legendary figure in Chinese mythology, renowned as an ideal ruler. Reigned around 2357 BCE, He and Emperor Yellow, Zhuanxu, Ku, and Shun were called the “Five Emperors” during the prehistoric period known as the “Golden Age.” Their stories blend myth, legend, and early historical memory. It was a period based on merit rather than bloodline, and the story of Yao choosing his successor, Shun, was folklore that everyone reminisced about. Venerated in Confucian tradition, Yao symbolizes the virtues of just and benevolent leadership, and his story was the earliest cornerstone of Chinese moral and political ideology.
Then, the Tangs were spread across the different regions of China. From south to north, it became China's 25th largest last name, accounting for 0.62% of the population. Among the millions of Tangs, my most traceable line was a person called Tang De in the 1600s. Living in the Ming Dynasty, he was the first ordered migrant of the Tangs from Macheng, a county level city historically associated with E’zhou in Hubei Province, China, to the Sichuan province. This was also known as the Huguang Fills Sichuan movement. The phrase ‘Huguang Fills Sichuan’ refers to a significant migration movement during the late Ming and early Qing dynasties, where people from the Huguang region (present-day Hubei and Hunan) were encouraged by the Qing government to resettle in the depopulated Sichuan province. This migration played a crucial role in Sichuan's demographic and economic revitalization. After a hundred years of settlement, by the 1700s, Tang De left 9 lineages after 5 generations: Dide, Dizi, Dichen, Dishan, Diyan, Dihua, Dixin, Dizhi, Diyu, and Disheng. The lineage that passed to me was Dihua. From Dihua to Guolu to Zhaoji to Hongyu to Shixun and lastly to my great grandfather, Depei, courtesy name Ze’an.
Chapter 2: Political Turbulence

In the early 20th century, China was a land of profound transformation and turmoil, caught between the old imperial order and the new revolutionary ideas that sought to redefine the nation’s future. Born in 1902 in a small but affluent village in Sichuan Province, Tang Ze’an was the first child of Tang Shixun. Though residing in the small town of Changdianfang in Kaixian, Tang Ze’an’s vision scoped across the nation. As a young man, Tang witnessed the collapse of the Qing Dynasty and the subsequent power struggles that engulfed China in the wake of the 1911 Xinhai Revolution, which ended over two millennia of imperial rule.
The revolution, led by Dr. Sun Yat-sen, sought to establish a republican form of government, and for many young Chinese like Tang Ze’an, it was a beacon of hope in a time of great uncertainty. The revolution promised a break from the old feudal system, a new beginning where individuals could contribute to the nation’s progress regardless of their background. Inspired by these ideals, Tang Ze’an made a life-changing decision in the mid-1920s. In 1926, he embarked on a journey that would take him far from the isolated hills of Sichuan to the bustling city of Guangzhou, several thousand miles away.
At the time, Guangzhou was the center of the hotbed of revolutionary activities. In fact, it was largely agreed as the origin of the 1911 Xinhai Revolution. The renowned Whampoa Military Academy was situated in Guangzhou and was established by Dr. Sun Yat-sen himself. The school was the engine of change in the early 19th century. Some of the famous people who graduated from this school were, for example, Lin Biao and Chiang Kai-shek. Like the others who graduated from this prestigious institution, Tang Ze’an and his brother Tang Yun’an were drawn to the ideals and the promise of serving their country.
Tang Depeng, courtesy name Yun’an and second son of Shixun, joined his elder brother in applying to the Whampoa Military Academy. Together, they entered the academy hoping to significantly impact China’s future. Tang Yuan’an would later distinguish himself as a heroic figure in the Anti-Japanese War, leading Nationalist troops to victories that were celebrated in the Central Daily News, the official newspaper of the Kuomintang. A prominent headline once read, “Tang’s Regiment Triumphs,” reflecting his significant influence in China at that time.
Yet, under the volatile 1900s, the family was the least important element. Despite having good hearts, the two brothers were too insignificant under the historical tsunami. During the Chinese Civil War, Tang Yun’an decided to join the People’s Liberation Army, becoming one of the many KMT generals who defected to the Communist side, while his brother Tang Ze’an remained in the KMT. Soon, the two blood relatives found themselves on opposite sides of a brutal conflict; their familial bond was strained to the breaking point by the unforgiving tides of history, and the best thing they could do was erase this memory. All that we know was that after the war, around 1958, Yun’an resided in Chongqing’s Niujiaotuo district and nothing more. It was the many families that were torn apart during the Chinese 1900s.
In contrast to his brother’s wavering loyalties, Tang Ze’an remained steadfast in his commitment to the National Revolutionary Army. The fires of revolution burned bright in his heart as he served with distinction in the army, climbing the ranks to become a regiment commander in Changsha, Hunan. His dedication to the cause was unwavering, even as the tides of war shifted and the future of China hung in the balance. It was during his time stationed in Wuhan, a city brimming with the fervor of both revolution and chaos, that fate intervened. Amidst the tumultuous backdrop of a nation in flux, Tang Ze’an crossed paths with Fu Xiangyun, a woman whose grace and strength mirrored the determination he saw in himself. Whether in the bustling streets of Wuhan or the historic lanes of Changsha, their meeting began a bond forged in the fires of a nation’s rebirth—a bond that would endure through the many storms yet to come.
Fu Xiangyun was my great-grandma. She was born into an affluent family in Tianmen County, Hubei. Her father was a former Qing dynasty Juren who followed Dr. Sun Yat-Sen after the 1911 Xinhai Revolution and served as the Chief of Police in Changsha, Hunan. Fu Xiangyun was the youngest in her family; the eldest was Yueyun, the second was Suyun, and the third was she, Xiangyun. She graduated from Daotian Middle School (a.k.a Hunan Provincial First Women’s Normal School), where she met Yang Kaihui and Mao Zedong. She often saw Mao Zedong standing on a small stool, giving speeches everywhere. Fu Suyun was her closest childhood friend, the one with whom she shared dreams and endless conversations about the future. They often whispered their hopes and fears to each other, imagining a world where anything was possible.
Yet, the mischief of the history tricks upon the family once again. Just like how Tang Ze’an and Yun’an separated forever, the three sisters, Yueyun, Suyun, and Xiangyun, were also torn apart by the hand of history. Being part of the KMT from 1939 to 1949 was difficult. Both the Japanese and the Communist Party made it clear that it was impossible to stick to normality. Standing before this historical crossroads, the three sisters made a completely life-changing decision. The elder, Yueyun, married and stayed in Fujian, with one lineage even stepping to Taiwan (but this is a story for later). The second sister, Suyun, went to Taiwan and then to the U.S. following the KMT. My youngest sister, my great-grandma Xiangyun, and my great-grandpa returned to Ze’an’s homeland countryside, Kaixian, hoping to avoid political persecution. After this, the three sisters never met again.