Half a City in Spring in Shanghai, Mid-September

In the twenty-first year of the Guangxu reign, China was defeated in the war with Japan. The Treaty of Shimonoseki was signed, and the Qing court ceded the Liaodong Peninsula and Taiwan to Japan, agreeing to pay an indemnity of two hundred million taels of silver. When the news broke, the whole country was outraged. Thousands of patriots put pen to paper, gathered at the Censorate, and petitioned the Guangxu Emperor, resolute in their duty to defend the country's territory. The fate of the nation hung in the balance, and the land of China wept. At that moment, Chinese people, burdened by a thousand years of shackles, stumbled forward, pushing open the rusted gates of imperial rule one step at a time, with blood, tears, and humiliation. A new age, vague and unknown, gradually unfolded before the people, and four hundred million Chinese struggled in its light of hope. Street thugs transformed overnight into men of immense wealth, while families of great distinction found themselves on thin ice, ruined and scattered in a single night. People's hearts were treacherous, and heresies and violence ran rampant; the Way was faint, yet some persevered in following it. This was an exhilarating age, and an age that inspired despair. It was an age of war and warlord rule, when the people suffered grievously. Yet countless people pressed forward, shedding blood and tears with every step and every word, devoting their meager lives to carrying on the teachings of the sages and bringing peace to future generations, laboring day and night, willing to give their all and persevere to the end.