[The shame of Jingkang remains unavenged. When will the hatred of us subjects be extinguished?]
In 1127 AD, the Jingkang Incident unfolded. Bianjing fell, and the two emperors were taken captive in the north.
A poor young man from Jinling witnessed this world-shattering upheaval with his own eyes.
He escorted the imperial family south and rose amid blood and flames; he followed Zong Ze in defending Bianjing, holding firm in despair; he fought alongside Yue Fei in the northern campaign, only to be forced to withdraw on the eve of victory.
He witnessed a court shrouded in dark clouds: Qin Hui seized power, and twelve golden orders recalled the Yue Family Army.
He endured the anguish of a vanished Chang'an: the old capital, Bianjing, became a distant land he could visit only in dreams.
Thirty years later, standing alone atop the walls of Jinling, he gazed north and sighed:
“I once thought the clouds could not hide the sun, yet Chang'an is lost from sight, filling my heart with sorrow.”
This is not alternate history. It truly happened 890 years ago:
A lament for an era, the tragic end of a band of heroes, and a dream of national revival.
