The Time to Live and the Time to Die

Hou's narration recounts the family's move from mainland China to Taiwan in 1947, driven by political upheaval and his father's ill health. The father remains a public servant in the Nationalist government, but the family is forced to uproot and resettle. They first establish themselves in Hsinchu before moving to a dormitory in Fengshan, Kaohsiung.

Grandmother would come out to call him for dinner and sometimes take him on trips toward China, despite the impossibility of such journeys. These scenes fuse memory and fantasy, confusing the locals who observe them. The boy is pulled between present life and imagined homeland.

The sickly father dies while Ah-ha is still young, leaving his mother to shoulder the burden of raising her children. The family loses a male provider and a sense of security, shifting dynamics at home. Ah-ha witnesses the quiet upheaval of life without a father figure.

Ah-ha's mother shares stories from her life, including the death of her eldest daughter when she was still an infant. These recollections frame the family's hardship and the fragility of life. The storytelling threads into Ah-ha's growing awareness of mortality and responsibility.

Amid a wartime atmosphere—signaled by visible tank tracks on the roads—Ah-ha becomes a defiant high schooler. He fights with other students and with local gangs, channeling his restless energy into skirmishes. His adolescence unfolds under the weight of collective anxiety and personal revolt.

In a moment of rebellion, Ah-ha deflates his school teacher's bicycle tire after a disagreement. The act embodies his challenge to authority and convenience as a teenager seeking autonomy. It also foreshadows how authority figures will later remind him of moral limits.

Ah-ha escalates his mischief by breaking the window of a veteran's house, an incident that crosses from youthful bravado into serious consequences. The act exposes the cost of rebellion in a society steeped in memory of conflict. It marks a turning point in how he views responsibility toward others.

The death of Ah-ha's mother from tongue cancer becomes a catalyst for his personal transformation. He is forced to confront the fragility of life and his own priorities beyond defiance. The loss reshapes his outlook and compels him to consider his duties to family.

Ah-ha falls for a girl from another high school who says she will date him only after he gains college admission. This demand drives him to study with renewed seriousness for the college entrance exam. The romance intensifies the pressure to secure a future and escape the present turmoil.

A year after starting his preparation, Ah-ha fails the college entrance exam. He blames himself for neglecting his grandmother and neglecting his family duties amid the preparation. The setback becomes a crucible that redirects his path away from immediate academic success toward a new course in life.

The grandmother dies at home without being noticed by Ah-ha and his two younger brothers. The mortician bluntly rebukes them for their lack of filial piety, highlighting the emotional cost of neglecting family duties. The moment deepens the sense of family duty in the wake of loss.

In the film's closing memory, the narrator recalls walking with his grandmother toward China and the guavas they picked along the way home. These memories tether his sense of self to homeland and family bonds. The road and the fruit symbolize nostalgia and the unfulfilled wish to return.

The story unfolds over the years 1947 to 1965, charting Ah-ha's maturation through loss, memory, and filial duty. The narrator's voice connects personal time with a broader historical arc. The final memory of his grandmother's walk and their shared guavas closes the arc with a sense of quiet resilience.