A 92-year-old veteran still pines for his lost love, a Japanese woman he met in Taiwan during the War of Resistance against Japanese Aggression (1937-45).

Zhou Fukang hasn’t seen Henmi Sueko since 1945, when she boarded a ship in Keelung to take her and other Japanese immigrants back to Japan after Chiang Kai-shek liberated the island. But he says his memories of her have helped him get through a difficult life in which he fought against the Japanese and then again in the Chinese Civil War. He was later convicted of being a counterrevolutionary and sentenced to 15 years in prison.

Zhou’s story received nationwide attention earlier this month when Xiaoshan Daily published a photo of the old soldier holding a sign that read “Henmi Sueko, where are you?” His quest to track down Henmi spread quickly across cyberspace.

Zhou, who lives in Hangzhou’s Kanshan Town, tells Shanghai Daily he still thinks often of Henmi.

“It was in 1945 when Kuomintang troops went to Taiwan to accept the surrender of Japanese forces that I met Henmi,” says Zhou, hunchbacked and toothless.

“At the time, I was a soldier in Chiang Kai-shek’s Chinese National Revolutionary Army and I was stationed in Taiwan for one year until I came back to the mainland to participate in the Chinese Civil War (1945-49).”

Though in his 90s, Zhou still has a clear mind and recalls every senior leader’s name, as well as various military scenarios from the period.

Zhou says he and other soldiers were stationed in a Hsinchu primary school, where Henmi was a teacher. He recalls the day they met when he heard her playing a piano.

“She was so beautiful that I was immediately entranced by her and the music she played, and then we came to know each other,” Zhou tells Shanghai Daily. “I also liked singing, so later our interactions often consisted of me humming along while Henmi played the piano.”

However, neither spoke the other’s language, but they communicated by writing notes to each other.

“Chinese and Japanese have many mutual characters, so we could get a basic understanding of what the other was saying,” he recalls.

Zhou eventually found a soldier who could speak fluent Japanese. With the translator’s help, Zhou says he and Henmi got to know one another on a deeper level.

“I knew that she liked me, too, but we never bared our hearts to each other,” Zhou says, smiling.

The political situation got in the way of their budding relationship.

Some Japanese had immigrated to Taiwan, including Henmi and her family, as Taiwan had been ruled by Japan between 1895, when it was ceded by the then Qing Dynasty (1644-1911) court following its loss in the first Sino-Japanese War (1894-95), and 1945, when Chiang recaptured Taiwan. After the island was liberated, all Japanese immigrants were forced to return to Japan.

“When I heard she was leaving by ship in Keelung, I took a train there to bid her farewell,” Zhou recalls. “No one was allowed to see the Japanese immigrants, but I got in because of my Kuomintang lieutenant’s identity.” Zhou hasn’t seen Henmi since.

“I heard that one of the ships with Japanese immigrants on board had struck a mine and sunk, but I don’t know whether she was on that ship or not,” Zhou says sadly. “Maybe she’s already gone.”

In late August, a Japanese reporter for the newspaper Yomiuri Shimbun visited Zhou along with Chinese writer Fang Jun. However, the reporter told Hangzhou City Express it would be very difficult to find Henmi in Japan using Zhou’s clues.

In 1946, Zhou returned to the Chinese mainland, and joined the civil war between the Kuomintang and the Communist Party. In 1955, as a former Kuomintang soldier who fought against Communists, Zhou was charged with counterrevolutionary crimes and sentenced to a 15-year prison term in Inner Mongolia, where he was forced to work at Wulan Farm.

“During the three years of natural disasters (1959-61), numerous people starved to death. I was skinny and tormented by famine, but I survived,” Zhou says.

The veteran was released during the “cultural revolution” (1966-76), but by then he was an “old man.”

“When I got out of prison I was nearly 50. How could I find a wife?” he says. “At that time I had nothing and I was an ex-convict. Nobody wanted me.”

He never married.

After being released from prison, he says factories and relatives were too scared to accept him due to political reasons. He says he decided to stay at Wulan Farm, working for a small salary for the next 15 years.

It wasn’t until the 1980s, when late leader Deng Xiaoping lifted the oppression on surviving Kuomintang veterans, that Zhou was finally able to return to Hangzhou.

Later, he worked in a plastics factory for several years and grew crops in Shiqiao Town for a decade. In 1993, he moved back to his hometown of Kanshan in Xiaoshan District.

Now, Zhou earns a living by recycling garbage. He lives in his ancestral house, which dates back more than 300 years.

In sharp contrast with the neighboring concrete residences, his house is shabby and dilapidated.

In recent years, the government has acknowledged the contribution of surviving Kuomintang veterans who fought against the Japanese invaders.

Last year, the Ministry of Civil Affairs issued a policy allowing Kuomintang veterans the same social allowance as Communist veterans.

“The money I earn from recycling garbage plus the 615 yuan (US$100) subsidy offered by the local government is nearly 2,000 yuan every month. That’s enough to cover my daily expenses,” Zhou says.

Since his story was made public earlier this month, many non-governmental organizations and volunteers have visited, part of the growing effort to ensure surviving Kuomintang veterans like Zhou are treated with more respect and have a better quality of life.

“I have received more than 20,000 yuan in donations in recent days. I appreciate it so much that I don’t know how to thank everyone,” Zhou says. “The community commission said they can offer help and told me not to collect garbage any more, but I said no. My body is still good, so I can support myself.”

“I joined the War of Resistance against Japanese Aggression when I was only 17. I am accustomed to a hard life due to my military training,” the veteran says.

Not long ago, Zhou used some of the money he had saved to buy a three-wheeled moped and a cellphone, which helps him with his garbage collection business. He also enjoys listening to the radio and following current affairs.

When asked about his greatest wish, Zhou says he hopes Taiwan could return to the mainland someday in the future.