A heartfelt greeting to the Paiwan princess of Mudan Township: how were you last night?

Paiwan princess, how were you last night?

I really want to rest, and I really do not want to get involved in too many things anymore,
only after you forcibly dragged me to Mudan Township did I realize that yet another foolish woman has sunk into hometown affairs.

How were you last night?
Last night, 130 years ago on December 20, that is, December 20, 1874. The Mudan Incident finally came to a close, the day Mudan Township began rebuilding its villages!
Last night, you chose this deeply historically significant day of Mudan Township's reconstruction to formally tell the tribespeople what you want to do; you donated 200,000 yuan….
Your vision moved the chief of Majia Township, Liao Zhen, and she too came to support the dream of you, a daughter of the Paiwan people. The Mudan Incident is a cultural memory of Taiwan, a part of the Indigenous historical process. Liao Zhen donated a beautiful and proud set of chiefly garments for a charity auction…..
Taiwan community stories, a truly strong yet gentle woman……
You yourself wrote it this way:

[Mudan Red Cliff]is finally going home to seek its roots and acknowledge its ancestors!

This journey has been hard, has taken a long detour, has circled all the way around history. It began 6 years ago when four dream-chasing tribal elders, carrying the ancestral spirits and the call of their homeland, set their hearts on it.
After carefully preparing a birthday dinner for my father for the first time in 30 years away from home, when the family, fully satisfied, praised me and I resolved to be a good daughter, I began asking my father to tell the family stories.

Early in the morning, my father used a voice aid to spell out the truth of history one word at a time with difficulty, speaking of the family's origins. I never noticed that his frame was gradually fading, his breath so weak he could not speak a complete sentence; that was the last freeze-frame of my memory of my father. When we met again a month later, we were already separated by life and death.

Vuvu is 94 years old, and memories of events from a whole 60-year cycle are already fragmented..... Not knowing whom to turn to for memories of one's own people, I was desperately anxious to piece the story together, connecting the people, events and matters around me with my own historical story as much as possible, traveling through distant tales. For the first time I truly listened to stories; to find the stories of my hometown I traveled north and south under the stars and moon, braving wind and sleeping in the open, all to seek that distant dream in my heart. I was eager to know about past and present lives, only then could I be sure where I was going. Because in the end I still must follow my ancestral spirit tribe.