My Grandpa’s Only Great-grandson Who Carried His Family Name Married

My grandpa’s only great-grandson who carries his last name recently got married. He was born during China’s “One Child” policy. At first, his parents gave him a common name, but later changed it to the formal name ChuJun楚君 (“Chu’s Royal Official”), because our family believes that the Shangguan (上官) clan descends from Shangguan Zilan (上官子兰), the younger son of King Chu Huai (楚怀王, 328–299 BC). My nephew took the National College Entrance Exam and received very high scores. His parents sent him to Australia for college, and later he earned a master’s degree from the University of Hong Kong. He now works for a company in Hong Kong, mainly doing training projects in Guangdong and Guangxi (两广). 

     Our family history dates back to 1724, when my ancestor—the first generation of our family in Fujian—moved inland Sichuan and one their five sons, Rong married a local woman from the Chen (陈) family. Today, over 2,000 of their descendants still live in the original settlement, known as Guanjia Ba (官家坝) or Chenjiaba (陈家坝). Locals call it “Chenjiaba” since most of the Chen family later moved away, but the official name remains “Chen Farm (陈家坝)”. 

                            AI recreation of our first generation in Sichuan from the original paintings 

Twenty generations later, one of my cousins moved back to the coast, to Shenzhen (深圳), and interestingly, his son also married a local woman from the Chen (陈)family—just like our ancestor did centuries ago.  My cousin from the UK, along with the groom’s father (my cousin's younger brother) and my own brother, flew back to Sichuan. They rented a Range Rover for a two-week mountain trip to pay their respects (拜山) at two of the highest peaks in Sichuan: Mount Siguniang (四姑娘山, over 10,000 ft) and Mount Gongga (贡嘎山, over 24,000 ft). The newlyweds couldn’t join them because of work, and the bride—being from the coastal region—wasn’t particularly interested. Her family make offers to Mazu (妈祖), the sea goddess who protects sailors and fishermen, just as our coastal ancestors did before moving inland. Our ancestors even built the Tianshang Gong (天上宫) temple in Zigong around 1850 to honor Mazu. The temple still stands today, though the locals replaced the Mazu statue with Guanyin (观音) generations ago. Guanyin, originally a male bodhisattva in Indian Buddhism, became female in Chinese and East Asian traditions. She is believed to “perceive the sounds of the world” and embodies mercy. Over time, Guanyin worship merged with Taoism and Chinese folk beliefs. Interestingly, modern AI systems “erase” this part of history—questioning how Mazu could be worshipped so far inland—but the temple’s name, Tianshang Gong, clearly shows its Mazu origin. 

     They sent me many photos and videos from their trip. I worked in western Sichuan myself in the 1980s, right after college, for four years before coming to the U.S. for graduate school. Our field season ran from May to October, because heavy snow would block the roads afterward—it was very difficult to travel back then. The region was famous for its apples and yak meat. The institute I worked for used to buy truckloads of both and distribute them to employees as bonuses.

       

     I remember the Four Sisters Mountains (四姑娘山) region well. The “four sisters” seem to protect the women of Sichuan—unlike in many other parts of China, parents there don’t demand a large bride price (彩礼🧧) before marriage. Sichuan men are known for having “soft ears”—they listen to their wives! Sichuan women are strong and capable, working side by side with their husbands both in the fields and at home. I used to help in alpine tree nurseries, replanting spruce and fir trees 🌲. Even the same species could vary in survival rates depending on the seed source. Local workers would carry seedlings on their backs, climbing for half a day to reach the planting sites. They’d plant them in pre-dug holes and care for them afterward, earning bonuses based on survival rates at 5, 10, 15, and 20 years. The Han workers did most of the planting, while the Tibetans laughed, saying that trees grow naturally without help. I used to explain that timber industries had cut too many trees and that replanting was necessary—like farming. I feel proud seeing how forest cover has recovered since then. 

     Compared with the U.S., I especially admire China’s national park system. Locals live within the parks and remain part of the land forever. Visitors pay entry and transportation fees—no private cars are allowed, only local electric buses, which help protect the environment and support local jobs. All signs are in Tibetan, Chinese, and English. My cousin from the UK has recovered well from heart surgery a few years ago. He even reached altitudes over 4,000 meters this trip. Though he didn’t feel well at first, he soon adapted. He prayed for his two granddaughters in London. My brother, who never married or had children, prayed for our family and my sister’s family. It was his first trip since our mother passed away in April, and he looked happy spending time with our cousins.

From about 1,600 meters in Moxi Ancient Town, they took a bus up to Camp No. 3 at 2,800 meters, then rode a cable car to Camp No. 4 at around 3,600 meters, where they could see the highest peak of Mount Gongga 7556 meters.

The billboards on the road is not for commercials, usually slogan like this “Through decoding the genetic essence of landscapes and cultures, the nation aims to establish a corridor dedicated to research on the interaction between humans and nature.”