THE HEARTBEAT OF HOME

Liang Hong, an acclaimed writer and literature professor at Renmin University of China, felt a quiet thrill at returning to her hometown, fictionalized as Liangzhuang village, in Dengzhou, Henan province.

She shared her anticipation on WeChat Moments, attaching an article about her discussion with economist Liu Shouying on Liangzhuang's development, and rural China. The post marked the 15th anniversary of her first nonfiction work, China in Liangzhuang.

From 2010 to 2021, Liang published the Liangzhuang Trilogy: China in Liangzhuang, Exodus from Liangzhuang, and Liangzhuang Ten Years. The village in her works, set in Wuzhen town, Rangxian county, is a fictional version of her native village in Dengzhou, Nanyang, Henan province.

The trilogy captures the shifting lives of leftbehind communities, follows migrant workers' struggles in cities, and reflects on rural China over a decade. Widely read, it has become a key reference in studies of the countryside.

Liang has also written novels inspired by Liangzhuang — The Light of Liang Guangzheng, The Sacred Clan, and Four Images.

China in Liangzhuang has been translated into multiple languages, and the English edition of The Sacred Clan won the Arts Council England 2021 PEN Translates Award. Liang has said she hopes to document Liangzhuang over 20 to 30 years.

In September 2025, her new nonfiction work Let There Be Light was published, which explores the mental health of urban and rural minors, extending her concerns for individuals and education in the Liangzhuang Trilogy.

Where it all began

Born in 1973 into a modest rural family in Nanyang, Henan, Liang is the fifth of six children. Soon after her eldest sister was admitted to Nanyang Medical College, their mother fell ill. The sister helped shoulder the family's financial burden with their father and urged Liang, in letters, to pursue education as "the only way out".

An avid reader and writer from childhood, Liang graduated from Nanyang No 4 Normal School in 1991 and worked in a rural school for three years. She later earned an associate degree at Nanyang Institute of Education, completed a bachelor's degree through self-study, and then obtained a master's degree from the Chinese Language Department at Zhengzhou University, as well as a PhD in literature from Beijing Normal University.

In 2003, she began teaching at the China Youth University of Political Studies. She returned to Liangzhuang village once or twice a year, staying for a week or two. Over time, she felt a growing gap between her academic research and rural reality.

In the summer of 2008, she took her 3-year-old son back to Liangzhuang and conducted in-depth fieldwork for nearly two months, driven by the desire to "feel the most direct bond between my soul and the land", she says.

Each day, she spoke with villagers alongside her father, recorded conversations, and organized notes at noon. She had no fixed plan, only a clear instinct: she did not want to write a novel or an academic thesis. Published in 2010, China in Liangzhuang sparked a wide discussion, and won prizes including the People's Literature Award. A taxi driver even went to great lengths to track her down to say, "Thank you for speaking up for us rural people."

She wrote, "In a sense, the village is the womb of a nation", and later noted in interviews with foreign media that the work focuses not on material poverty, but on cultural shifts and farmers' spiritual dilemmas amid development. By the time Liangzhuang Ten Years was published in 2021, Liangzhuang had seen great changes: better transport ended its isolation, the wages of migrant workers increased, living environments improved, and rivers ran clearer.

Details, not judgments

Asked about recent changes, villagers' spiritual state, and her preparation for Liangzhuang Twenty Years, Liang says it lies in long-term, daily observation. "When I write, I do not focus only on visible change, but on people's real lives." She adds that after early infrastructure upgrades, change has slowed. More new houses have been built, but village roads have become more cluttered, and rivers are left to rise and fall without much maintenance.

Liangzhuang Primary School, once a pig farm, became a furniture factory five or six years ago. A government-funded public square is now a new hub where villagers rest, chat, dance, and play drums. Her late father once hoped their old home could become a library, an idea she still hopes to realize, though she has yet to find a way forward. Still, she believes improving rural public spaces — sanitation, greening and roads — can boost villagers' physical and mental health.

Liang stresses the importance of writing within specific historical contexts and focusing on detail rather than sweeping judgments. "Literature is a deeply personal form of expression, and details are its lifeblood — the key to resonating with readers," she says. She avoids rural-themed short videos which she finds hard to verify. In an age of fragmented information, she values systematic, on-the-ground research more than ever — one reason nonfiction has gained renewed attention.

She hopes to break down stereotypes behind labels such as "farmer", "worker", and "teacher" and restore individual stories in her writing. Her deep connection with her hometown during writing has also brought her strong spiritual support, inner growth, and a renewed bond with her childhood and younger self.

The act of parenting

Let There Be Light grows naturally from Liang's experience as a mother. Struggling with parenting challenges, she read books such as The Conscious Parent, but found them unhelpful. Through discussions with other parents, she realized teenage mental health issues reflect deeper psychological structural dilemmas. "I wanted to enter their inner world and see how they think about themselves as individuals, and how they view their parents, schools, and society."

After research across families, schools, social and mental health institutions in cities and counties, she found that adolescent mental health problems have different roots: overcontrol in elite first-tier families, misguided parenting in smaller cities, and lack of care in county areas. She calls for education grounded in love, nature, and life — nurturing whole personalities, emotional resilience, and physical health, while helping children accept diversity and manage negative feelings.

Parents, she says, must confront their own anxiety. Learning to love themselves is the key to loving their children well. "Love is both a capacity and a method that requires reflection and learning."

Liang also highlights the absence of fathers in many families in Let There Be Light, noting that the famous writer Lu Xun emphasized the importance of fathers' self-awareness a century ago. Trapped in traditional family roles, fathers often stay on the sidelines, yet today's children badly need fathers' participation to balance the mother-child bond and build a healthy family dynamic.

The phrase "let there be light" also appears in The Light of Liang Guangzheng, written in memory of her father. In the book, the father speaks these words and lives with simple kindness and quiet resilience. For her, the "light" in the new book means inner strength: adults, especially parents, should build self-awareness, keep up with the times, and think critically, so they can truly see their children and support their innate strengths and potential.

Asked if she worries about a generation gap with her son as she spends very little time online, she says, laughing: "The internet is everywhere. I don't play games, but I sometimes watch random short videos and listen closely when my child talks about online memes."