So, when news broke that the chairwoman of the Chinese Kuomintang party Cheng Li-wun would lead a delegation to the mainland — the first such visit in a decade — it struck a chord. While her talk of "seeking peace" and "increasing welfare" may sound like political slogans, for us it is reality. It is about more flights, stable businesses and the freedom for young people to seek a future.

　　Coincidentally, the film Sunshine Women's Choir, from Taiwan, has recently debuted. A story of incarcerated women finding healing through song, it shattered box office records in Taiwan. My wife, a rational woman who rarely shows vulnerability, wants to see it. "I have been stressed," she told me. "I heard this one is a tearjerker."

　　For 10 years, she has carried the quiet weight of marrying a man from Taiwan in a volatile era. When friends ask if I am "okay" during election cycles, she laughs it off. But at night, I see her studying complex political terms on the news, trying to decipher what our future holds.

　　Most people do not care about "grand narratives". Like the women in the film, they want safety, their children's smiles and hope. The story of a mother forming a choir in prison resonates because love and hope are universal. They transcend geography.

　　As my wife watched the trailer, she recognized the actresses from the variety shows she used to enjoy. To her, Taiwan is not a political symbol; it is the pop culture that raised her. Similarly, for me, the mainland was not a distant concept; it was the literature of Qian Zhongshu and the voice of Faye Wong. We share a language, a literary history and the same songs. These memories are our strongest bonds.

　　Predictably, the film sparked a minor firestorm among the green camp, represented by the DPP, in Taipei, who decried the "belittling" of the island. My friends there are unimpressed. "Can we stop with the politics?" one posted. "It is just a movie".