In the scene.
What cos into view is the endless snowfield of Siberia.
The north wind howls, blowing the snowflakes, quickly thickening the snow cover in a short mont.
And on this thick snowfield.
There is a man with ice clumps on his beard, wearing tattered clothes, walking with difficulty through the snowfield.
With each step, his knees are buried in the biting snow.
It seems as if this world is using all its malice to block his advance.
Looking around, all there is to see is the vast devouring whiteness.
Nothing exists but this vast whiteness.
The howling wind and snow devour everything between heaven and earth, yet they cannot manage to bury the figure wrapped in an old blanket.
He bows his head, using the weight of his entire body to resist the fierce wind, each step sinking deep into the knee-high snow, but his footprints are quickly erased by the wind and snow.
Inhale——
Exhale——
Inhale——
Exhale——
The heavy breathing amplifies in his ears, and the surrounding world cos to a standstill.
The all-encompassing wind and snow cannot break him, and the endless snowfield cannot halt his steps.
Looking at the CGI, the Blue Star viewers find themselves catching their breath.
Listening to that heavy panting, they hold their breath involuntarily, quietly watching the figure as he takes one step after another forward.
The scene closes in until that steadfast gaze is in view.
The scene flashes.
He recalls the images of the seminary in Tbilisi, mories of the strikes in Batumi, recollections of the argunts at the London Party Congress, the scenes spinning in his mind like a rotating lantern.
Yet he never ceases his steps.
His face shows no emotion, but all Blue Star viewers watching the CGI can feel his heart growing harder and colder.
Just like in this engulfing ice and snow, he continues onward, expressionless.
Such tenacious willpower, not even the forces of nature can overco.
As for this scene.
The Blue Star viewers in the live stream all know the tifra, yet did not expect the process to be so prolonged; they never thought about how he erged from the snow before.
But seeing such a snowstorm with their own eyes, the shock at his resilient will grows more intense.
Put in such an environnt.
Many Blue Star viewers watching the CGI imagine they would freeze to death.
Yet this man passed through this seemingly endless road of wind and snow.
The bullet comnts in the CGI pause montarily with the screen’s darkness, as Blue Star players haven’t recovered from the shock.
The next second.
The scene lights up again.
Only this ti, it is the Land of Huaxia.
Words slowly erge
[Guangzhou Uprising · Autumn 1895]
The perspective dives rapidly.
Through the clouds, the city of Guangzhou spreads out in the twilight.
The scene settles below, at a certain ancestral hall.
An oil lamp illuminates twenty-eight young faces as Lu Haodong unrolls the sketch of the Blue Sky with a White Sun flag.
Outside, there is suddenly a sound of three rapid and two slow knocks on the door.
Bam!
A bullet shatters the wooden window, the oil lamp is knocked over, and flas spread instantly, setting the entire ancestral hall ablaze.
Afterward, the chaotic sound of footsteps and noise erupts outside.
Bam bam bam bam!
Hooves shatter the bluestone pavent as the revolutionary army leaps through the windows.
A young figure is dragged toward the dock by comrades, casting a glance back to see the beams and pillars of the ancestral hall collapsing with a crash.
Then the scene shifts.
[Huizhou Uprising · Sumr 1900]
In the perspective of rapid running.
The banner of the revolutionary army defiantly flies amidst the overwhelming bombardnt, the soldiers of the revolution struggle to hold on.
Through the obscure smoke.
The "Revive China" banner is clenched tightly in a young boy’s hand.
He never let go, even in death.
The scene turns overseas, where the young man from the end of the first scene appears, punching the draft of the "Sino-Japanese Alliance" causing the teacup to fall and shatter.
Until, after sitting for a long, dispirited ti, he receives the newspaper of the failed uprising, slumping in his chair.
[Huanggang Uprising · 1907... Fishern wielding fire-lances rush the governnt office.]
[Huizhou Uprising · 1907... Hakka won with bamboo arrows in their hair, loading dirt cannons under the banyan tree.]
....
....
[Zhen Nanguan Uprising · 1907... Children holding "Mr. Sun is here" placards run across trenches, buried the next second by red soil stirred up by shells.]
[Huanghuagang Uprising · 1911... Lin Juemin’s "A Letter to My Wife" ink dissolves in the rain, seventy-two corpses...]
Scene after scene flashes by, each uprising is suppressed, each ends in failure.
Chaozhou Huanggang, Huizhou Qiniu Lake, Qinzhou Fangcheng, Guangxi Zhen Nanguan, Yunnan Hekou... Each banner raised by the revolution is subsequently felled in blood and fire.
Every failure signifies more comrades beheaded, more wanted posters circulated worldwide.
Yet the man transitioning from youth to middle age does not give up.
Until....
[Wuchang Uprising · 1911]
This night.
The city’s armory gates open wide, soldiers with white armbands surge like a tide toward the governor’s office.
The next second.
Firelight shoots up into the sky.
The perspective abruptly zooms out, as a place along the Yangtze River bursts into flas, then countless fires light up across the land.
The sun and moon accelerate through their phases in a flash.
From Changchun in the north, to Kunming in the south, from Shanghai in the east, to Ili in the west, hundreds of cities ignite with beacon fires.
A voiceover suddenly rings out.
"Drive out the tyrants, restore China."
"Establish the Republic, equalize land rights."
The land of China, shrouded in darkness, now erupts with golden seedlings growing ceaselessly.
One after another, characters rush to the stage.
So are from the blue side, others from the red side, but ultimately all have only one goal....
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