Twenty-six years after the reign of Emperor Guangxu, in Tianjin, foreign-style buildings and gray bricks were grinding against each other, and the sound of whistles, shouts from foot shops, and the clattering of horse shoes were mixed together. In the typewriting room, the young typesetting apprentice Li Qiyuan picks up each character of different sizes and spells them into sentences that can ignite the heart; in the Yingshang cotton yarn factory, his sister Li Yunxiu runs among the wet and cold yarn, her voice There is cotton dust in the clothes; on the playground of the small station, Zhao Yujin, a student of the Beiyang New Army, holds his rifle tightly, and the pull of the two eras is reflected in his eyes; in the theater, Jiang Yao in Qingyi walks out of the charm and embarrassment of an era with bound-footed steps. Banning, strikes, church bells ringing, teahouse discussions, the stone lions in front of banner people's houses standing side by side with the bronze medals of foreign merchants, witness a silent migration. The Wind Rises in Jinmen is a story about how to tell the truth and how to let love and dignity stand firm on the cusp of the storm.
