Huayu: From charlatan to great entertainer

Chapter 596 Liu Yifei: The Diary of Becoming the Number One Female Swordsman in the Chinese Server

Yang Mi and the others turned on the TV a little late; in fact, the plot and background introduction started from the opening theme.

In the first five minutes, which they didn't see, the opening featured a line of simple, old-fashioned subtitles in white on a black background:

China, 261 BC.

While Rome was fighting the Samnites and the Hellenistic world was falling apart after the death of Alexander the Great, the flames of war were still burning in the Warring States period of China.

China, 261 BC.
While Rome fought the Samnites, and the Hellenistic World fragmented after Alexander, the Warring States era burned on.
How can historical dramas aimed at a global audience enhance their sense of immersion?

The approach of the Taiping Book establishes a horizontal comparison in time and space.

Western audiences unfamiliar with China, upon seeing 261 BC, already have a grand global historical coordinate system in their minds.

The camera unfolds with an almost cruel poetry:

There is no dialogue, only the whistling wind and somber background music.

The image is a carefully color-corrected, yellowish tone, like ancient silk, presenting a wide-angle shot of a post-war wasteland—

The scorched earth was littered with broken spears and halberds, which lay askew like withered branches. Several tattered battle flags, with the faintly discernible character "Qin," fluttered weakly in the wind. The smoke of battle had not yet completely dissipated, casting a thin veil over the entire scene.

This is not a direct display of bloodshed, but a desolate and oppressive aesthetic presentation, full of the charm of classical Eastern tragedy.

The comments section has started scrolling:
"It has a cinematic feel to it."

"Great subtitles! You can immediately tell what's happening on the other side of the world."

"This is the way historical dramas should be done. I look forward to the appearance of the celestial being."

This is the Guanzhong Plain after the Battle of Yique, on which Bai Qi made his name. Waves of starving refugees are pouring into Xianyang City. After much anticipation, the camera finally focuses on Gu Nan, played by Liu Yifei.

Princess Eui's appearance made her almost unrecognizable at first glance:
She was wearing an ill-fitting, mud-stained coarse linen robe, her hair was tied up haphazardly, and her face was covered in grime.

She struggled to climb out from behind a sloping hill, her eyes filled with a pure, animalistic will to survive, and a profound sense of bewilderment that made her feel out of place with her surroundings.

The future number one female swordsman in the Chinese server is still in a state of extreme confusion. Even though she has realized that she has transmigrated and it is not a dream, the softness of her chest that she subconsciously pressed made a very brief, masculine awkwardness and helplessness flash across her face.

The scene flashes back to the present, briefly explaining Gu Nan's previous modern identity. At this moment, the audience in mainland China, China, Japan, South Korea, and even the world are surprised to see the face of the internationally renowned director Lu Kuan. Before her time travel, she was a successful entrepreneur who fought in the business world.

In a way, it's like Xiao Liu being possessed by her husband, the washing machine, and entering this era as a "male soul in a female body" destined to grow old alone.

But that expression was quickly replaced by an even stronger feeling of hunger. She licked her chapped lips, and her eyes began to instinctively search for anything that could fill her stomach.

The camera cuts to a simple tea stall by the roadside.

An elderly man dressed in a dark black robe, with a calm demeanor, sat there alone.

Li Xuejian's performance was superb. He didn't have a single line; he just sat there quietly, gazing into the distance. Yet, the weariness that came with experience and the imposing aura he exuded pressed down on the screen.

The theme of "The Book of Peace" being used to spread globally has already been indicated by the title of the drama. Bai Qi, played by Li Xuejian, looks at the refugees staggering past outside the teahouse with a gaze that is not murderous but rather compassionate and heavy.

His gaze swept over the emaciated women and children, and the numb-eyed old people—these "byproducts" of war—as if silently calculating the price paid for each victory, a price built from countless broken lives.

Deep within the eyes of Bai Qi, played by Li Xuejian, lies a weariness born from understanding the cycles of history, a helplessness towards the bloody path of "stopping war with war," and even a subtle, almost imperceptible sense of guilt belonging to a "butcher of men," a guilt that may reach its peak after the Battle of Changping.

At this moment, the audience does not see a cold-blooded war machine, but a contemplative figure troubled by the ultimate paradox of war. He is well aware of the killing he has caused, yet he yearns more than anyone else for the "cessation of war" and "peace" at the end of this bloody road.

It was this tenderness and idealism hidden beneath the iron will that laid the deepest and most moving foreshadowing for his later entrustment of his will to Gu Nan, uttering the poignant plea, "Go and see if the world is at peace for me."

This is the weight and humanity that a historical figure is given under the conditions of a TV series; otherwise, Bai Qi would only be mentioned briefly in history books, bland and tasteless.

To experience the realities of life, Bai Qi didn't bring any attendants. He carried the bright orange corn cakes he had just bought from the tea shop, tied with a hemp rope, and walked along the street like an ordinary old man, observing everything.

He was unaware that Gu Nan had already set her sights on him.

"Anyway, he's an old man..." The instinct for survival had long overwhelmed reason and morality. Gu Nan, who had just entered the Warring States period, did not understand the identity represented by Bai Qi's black robes. He only saw that he was an old man who was about the same height as himself.

With a sudden burst of determination, she leaped out from behind the wall and reached for the bag of dry rations!
Just as her fingertips were about to touch the oil paper package, the seemingly unsuspecting old man, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, casually and naturally pulled his left foot back, pressing it against her shinbone.

Caught off guard, Gu Nan stumbled and fell forward, landing awkwardly with a mouthful of dirt in her mouth.

Liu Yifei's performance at this moment is extremely nuanced:

The time traveler's first reaction after falling was not the coquettish cry or shyness that women usually have, but a suppressed, low groan from his throat, filled with pain and extreme frustration.

She quickly pushed herself up with her hands, her face flashing with a fierce and defiant look at the failure of her plan—the true nature of the male soul that Lu Kuan represented in his previous life.

But when he looked up and met Li Xuejian's calm yet deep gaze, his fierceness was quickly replaced by fear and vigilance.

This instantaneous shift in emotion accurately reflects the inherent gender conflict and genuine reaction under the circumstances of the "male soul in female body".

Li Xuejian's performance truly embodies the meaning of "a heavy sword has no edge, and great skill is without artifice."

The hidden guards swarmed forward, causing chaos in the street. He made no exaggerated expressions or movements, but simply turned around and calmly gazed at Gu Nan with his weathered eyes.

Beneath this tranquil backdrop of noise, the audience can clearly read multiple interwoven emotions on Li Xuejian's face:
A hint of understanding for young people taking risks, a stern and authoritative scrutiny, a touch of pity for the difficulty of survival in chaotic times, and at the deepest level, a weariness and heaviness as if one has seen through the fate of history and war.

He didn't need to say a word; all the dramatic tension was conveyed through his unfathomable eyes and the barely perceptible twitch of his lips, vividly revealing the complex inner world of Bai Qi, this historical figure.

This top-tier performance, imbued with Eastern charm and centered on restraint and subtlety, instantly captivated audiences worldwide.

Many Western viewers have begun to discuss the topic enthusiastically on social media and film review websites:

"My God! Who is this veteran Chinese actor? One look from him contains more information than an entire season of dialogue on our end!"

"He reminded me of Anthony Hopkins' performance in 'The Silence of the Lambs,' where he could send chills down your spine with just stillness and his eyes, but with an added sense of Eastern philosophical contemplation."

"It's more like Sir Ian McKellen, with that solemnity and weight that comes from his profound mastery of Shakespearean drama. This actor certainly also has a strong stage background."

Curious viewers began flocking to Netflix's database to search for information about Li Xuejian, and were surprised to find that he was already a top actor in China with a brilliant career spanning decades.

What surprised Western audiences even more was that they found his brilliant performance in "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" in Netflix's "Chinese Classic Films" section, where he played the father who was passing by.

It's still a movie about the road; I'll save it and watch it slowly.

……

Bai Qi looked down at Gu Nan, who had fallen to the ground, his face showing no anger, only a calm indifference that revealed his understanding of the world.

He spoke slowly, his voice hoarse yet carrying an undeniable authority. His words were not moral condemnation, but rather a direct quotation of the law:

"The Qin law, in its section on theft, states that anyone who steals another's goods or property valued at one coin or more shall be fined two sets of armor; if the value is less than one coin, the penalty shall be three weeks of corvée labor. Do you wish to test the benefits of Qin law?"

The subtitles provide a translation and explanation: [Thief of another's property, valued at more than one qian, shall be fined the price of two sets of armor; if valued at less than one qian, shall be fined thirty days of corvée labor.]

Gu Nan lay on the ground, his heart racing. This kind of speech was no ordinary old man, and even his captivating eyes were not something ordinary people could possess, let alone the swarming, hidden armored soldiers.

How to deal with it?

The original story begins with a typical plot involving theft, being caught, and becoming an apprentice.

As an online novel, this is an opening that doesn't warrant close scrutiny but allows for a smooth and quick transition into the historical context. But can a TV series, especially one aimed at a global audience, be filmed like this?

It makes no sense and fails to capture the spirit of the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods.

Therefore, the screenwriter introduced the master-disciple relationship between Gu Nan and Bai Qi in a very "traditional Chinese style":
In Liu Yifei's portrayal, Gu Nan, who is a male soul, tries her best to suppress her panic. She knows that time travel is not a dinner party, and if she makes a mistake, she will be doomed, especially if she offends the powerful figures of the early feudal era.

In this urgent situation, Gu Nan had no choice but to emulate the unconventional "madmen" and "orators" of the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods.

People like Yanzi, who mocked the King of Chu, Lin Xiangru, who confronted the King of Chu in court, and Zhuangzi, who sang while drumming on a basin, all shared the common trait of disregarding conventional etiquette and even using verbal offense to highlight their unique value in order to attract the attention of those in power.

Bet!

Gu Nan deliberately imitated the language style of this era: "What the old man said is absolutely right. However, the Qin law also says, 'If punishment is used when things are about to go wrong, then treachery will not arise.'"

“Since the old man had already discerned my ‘intending to commit a crime,’ he did not arrest me on the spot to make an example of me and deter others. Instead, he privately warned me. This act of showing leniency outside the law contradicts the original intent of the law to ‘use punishment to eliminate punishment.’ If everyone were like the old man, where would the authority of the law be?”

These words, on the surface, questioned the contradiction between the old man's behavior and the strict spirit of Qin law, but in reality, they were a subtle test: Your status is extraordinary, yet your actions seem to be unconventional. Why is that?
In short, Bai Qi may have wanted to show leniency and spare this young female thief, but the thief showed no awareness of her thieving ways and stood up to angrily rebuke the old man for violating the laws of the country, saying that his actions were inappropriate!

Her words, seemingly criticizing Bai Qi for lax enforcement of the law, actually took a different approach, cleverly elevating a minor security incident of attempted theft to the level of "legal reasoning."

This not only instantly resolved his predicament, but also revealed his insight and courage that transcended his status as a refugee.

Audiences in China, Japan, and South Korea can naturally understand this line of thinking, but can Western audiences understand it?

The screenwriter had obviously considered this point; this is a complete replica of a scene from Victor Hugo's classic novel, *Les Misérables*.
Jean Valjean was being pursued for stealing bread. Bishop Myriel not only did not expose him, but also gave him a silver candlestick and told him to "use this money to become an honest man." This act completely changed Jean Valjean's life.

To Western audiences, Bai Qi's act of "giving Gu Nan a break" and providing her with food is seen as a kind of "redemptive grace."

Thinking further, isn't this just an ordinary farm boy, Luke Skywalker, meeting his Obi-Wan Kenobi, or Harry Potter meeting Dumbledore?
This kind of plot, common in Western stories, where a "hero's journey" leads to encountering one's "life mentor," is not difficult to understand.

This is a top-notch narrative style that Westerners can also understand, telling stories that are deeply embedded with Chinese cultural connotations.

Upon hearing this, Bai Qi, played by Li Xuejian, showed a barely perceptible twitch in his usually placid face.

For the first time, his eyes, which had seen through life and death, rise and fall, focused on Gu Nan's face with a genuine, inquisitive interest.

This ragged little female thief possesses such quick wit and courage, and is even able to delve into the legal reasoning behind the law.

He remained silent for a moment, his scrutinizing gaze growing increasingly heavy, his tone revealing neither joy nor anger: "Sharp tongue. However, the debate on legal principles is not something that a hungry person can engage in empty talk about."

Bai Qi waved his hand, signaling the armored soldiers who were faintly visible around him to step back.

"This was bought for my wife, I can't give it to you." He gestured to the corn cakes he was holding, then looked back at Gu Nan, his expression indifferent. "What would you like to eat?"

These simple five words sent a jolt through Gu Nan's heart. Her gaze instinctively swept over the roadside food stall, finally settling on a pot of steaming, ordinary yet filling bean rice.

Bean rice was the most basic food for commoners and even soldiers at that time. It was made by cooking a mixture of soybeans or millet with millet. It had a coarse texture, but it was the most sustenance and the best way to survive.

"Bean rice is fine."

Bai Qi said nothing more, but simply gestured for his servant to go and buy it.

The first episode, with its 90-minute runtime, also needs a well-structured narrative, with a narrative "turn" around the 15-minute mark. This is part of the brilliance of "The Book of Peace," which rivals the exquisite craftsmanship of a film. Thus, a meaningful shot enters the viewer's field of vision:
Under the setting sun, Bai Qi, dressed in a dark robe, stood with his hands behind his back, next to Gu Nan, who was holding a steaming bowl of rice and beans, dressed in rags, with a complicated expression.

Two figures, one large and one small, are frozen in time on the official road outside Xianyang City at the end of the Warring States period, with a continuous stream of refugees in the background.

A vast historical panorama seems to be slowly unfolding around these two individuals.

Netflix's comments have visibly increased compared to the beginning, and audiences from all over the world have an instinctive resistance to this type of Chinese drama due to cultural barriers.

If it weren't for the intensive promotion over the past two months, and the connections between Lu and Liu through international cultural and sports events such as Crystal Palace Club, Gucci, and "Ball Lightning," perhaps even fewer viewers would have tuned in for today's premiere.

In order to facilitate the Netflix release of "The Book of Peace", Lu Kuan postponed "House of Cards" by two weeks because he knew that the latter would definitely be a huge hit, and this arrangement would ensure that "The Book of Peace" would not have any publicity in the early stages.

But after watching the first scene, Netflix's comments section was filled with praise and recognition from Japan, South Korea, Europe and the United States.

"This is a history painting that breathes!"

"A performance without subtitles!"

Both Eastern and Western audiences will be captivated by the aesthetics of this cinematography.

The somber color palette, the grand composition, the contrast between the old and the young, the stillness and the movement, and the flowing refugee tide in the background all combine to create a solemn, poignant yet hopeful poetic atmosphere.

In the image, Bai Qi symbolizes the "past" and "war," Gu Nan symbolizes the "future" and "possibility," and the flowing refugees represent the "chaotic world" that needs to be ended.

The three of them together perfectly embodies Bai Qi's future inner desires:

By cultivating Gu Nan, the "future," we can end the current "chaotic world" and ultimately achieve "peace."

Viewers may not fully understand this shot now, but they will definitely recall it at the climax at the end. This is the most concise visual expression of the core theme of the entire play.

This ability to convey emotions and narratives through the visuals themselves transcends language and cultural barriers.

Western audiences may draw parallels to wide-angle shots in "The Lord of the Rings," which intertwine personal destinies with grand historical events, and also grasp the relationship between Bai Qi and Gu Nan through analogies such as Jean Valjean and the bishop, and Luke and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

But who is this silent, powerful old man?
Why was he so particular about this petty thief of unknown origin and eccentric behavior?

What kind of relationship will form between them?
This simple scene contains all the classic narrative elements of mentor and disciple, redemption and being redeemed, past and future, strongly compelling the audience to continue watching.

Turning at the end, the next day in the study of the Wu'an Jun Mansion, sunlight streamed through the window lattice, casting dappled shadows on the table covered with maps.

Bai Qi and Gu Nan sat facing each other, with an antique chessboard between them. Playing Go was a common and elegant pastime in this era, and also an excellent way to observe the other's character and strategies.

A concise and elegant subtitle appears at the bottom of the screen, accompanied by a background of antique Go board patterns:

(Chinese) Hand Talk - Go
Originating in China, it has a history of over four thousand years.

Nineteen paths crisscross, subtly aligning with the principles of heaven and earth; black and white twins, enacting endless military strategies.

It is not for the sake of winning, but for the sake of cultivating the mind, understanding the situation, and comprehending the Tao.

(English) Weiqi (Go): The Game of Encirclement
Originated in China over 4000 years ago.
The 19x19 grid mirrors the cosmos;

……

The appearance of this brief introduction is seamless, like a knowledge label in a documentary, instantly popularizing the profound heritage of this ancient Eastern wisdom to a global audience, and also subtly hinting at why Bai Qi chose to test Gu Nan with this in the drama:

What appears to be a calm exchange of moves is actually a silent battle of strategy, patience, and tactics.

The plot of this game is not in the original work. It was designed to appeal to Japanese and Korean audiences. Go originated in China, but Japanese and Korean players have been particularly strong in East Asia in recent years, and their people are also happy to discuss it.

Judging from the first twenty minutes, it can be said that apart from Gu Nan's "male soul in female body" setting, "The Book of Peace" is a drama that is not closely related to the original work, because their cultural tasks, carriers, and target audiences are all very different.

Li Xuejian's portrayal of Bai Qi, playing black, is characterized by steady moves and a grand, imposing strategy, much like his military tactics, which emphasize seizing the initiative, controlling the game, and suppressing the opponent with the first move.

However, Gu Nan's response often left him in deep thought.

Because the latter's chess style bears the distinct imprint of later generations, after becoming familiar with the rules of this era, he frequently used "star points" and "three-three" to occupy corners.

This approach, given the Warring States period's emphasis on central battles, places particular importance on territory and efficiency, even to the point of overemphasizing the edges and corners.

In the mid-game skirmishes, she frequently played variations of "standard patterns" that had been refined over time, displaying extremely sharp local tactics. Often, in seemingly evenly matched entanglements, she could gain several points through a couple of seemingly insignificant tactical moves. Although Bai Qi possessed profound skill, faced with this advanced, almost "utilitarian" precision calculation and efficiency-first philosophy, his grand strategy, upon which he was famous, seemed somewhat powerless, as if he were punching cotton.

Li Xuejian's performance conveyed this confusion in an extremely subtle way:

He merely frowned slightly, the intervals between his moves growing longer and longer. Occasionally, he would raise his eyes to gaze intently at the seemingly naive girl before him, his gaze filled with increasing scrutiny.

The game of chess was merely the starting point for conversation. After several games, Bai Qi grew increasingly astonished during the breaks in the game, testing Gu Nan's knowledge. He inquired about military affairs, politics, and people's livelihoods, and Gu Nan's answers were often concise yet to the point:

When discussing the transportation of provisions, she would subconsciously mention "shortening the supply line, or even relying on the enemy for food";
When discussing public sentiment, she would say, "In times of chaos, many people fear power but do not appreciate virtue; therefore, we must establish trust before bestowing favors."
Even when it comes to training troops, she would say, "The quality of soldiers is more important than their quantity; training is for combat, not for show."

These simple truths, which Gu Nan considered common sense in history or modern management, became insightful and even somewhat shocking views in Bai Qi's ears.

He increasingly felt that the girl in front of him possessed a kind of wisdom that was out of step with the times, yet incredibly sharp. Sometimes, when he looked into her eyes, he could clearly see a man's spirit.

As the game progressed to the middle stage, Bai Qi seemingly casually placed a piece, then suddenly spoke up: "A battle with Han and Zhao seems inevitable. The current defending general is Lian Po. What are your thoughts on this?"

Gu Nan's hand holding the white piece trembled violently, and the white piece almost slipped from her grasp.

Liu Yifei's performance perfectly captured the shock and helplessness of knowing history. Her pupils constricted slightly, and her breath caught in her throat for a moment. She knew that this was the bloody prelude to the Battle of Changping.

Previously, Yewang had fallen, leaving Shangdang isolated. Feng Ting, the governor of Shangdang in Han, refused to surrender to Qin and made a decision that would change history:

The purpose of surrendering the seventeen cities of Shangdang to the State of Zhao was to divert attention from the conflict, draw Qin's military might towards Zhao, and force Han and Zhao to unite against Qin.

Scenes of tragic history flashed through her mind. Gu Nan forcibly suppressed the turmoil in her heart and tried to keep her voice calm: "It seems... if the King wants to employ you, it's because Fan Ju devised a plan to replace Lian Po?"

This history is remembered very clearly by every Chinese person, including Zhao Kuo, who is about to make his appearance.

Whether he had a grudge against Fan Ju or not, Bai Qi then fell silent for a long time, with only the crisp sound of chess pieces hitting the board.

Finally, he pressed the black stone he had been playing with for a long time onto a corner of the board with a "smack," not in an ordinary place, but with a sense of decisiveness.

He raised his head, his gaze sharp as he looked directly at Gu Nan: "Little girl, you have extraordinary insight and a remarkable character. Would you be willing to become my disciple?"

Gu Nan was stunned.

She knew that the tide of history was unstoppable, and she understood that relying on Bai Qi as a powerful figure in chaotic times was the best way to survive, especially since she could witness history up close. She simply answered softly but firmly, "Okay."

Upon hearing this, Bai Qi's serious expression instantly melted away, revealing a smile that was almost mischievous.

Li Xuejian's performance here is superb. The brooding and dignified "god of war" image he had previously created now reveals a smug and cunning air, like that of an old child.

He burst into laughter, then with a wave of his hand, seemingly unintentionally disrupted the entire chessboard, instantly turning the black and white pieces into a chaotic mess.

"Haha, good! Since you've become my disciple, this game is a draw. It's my gift to you!" He laughed heartily, as if he wasn't the one who had been scratching his head and struggling during the game.

Liu Yifei, who plays Gu Nan, was taken aback at first, but then realized what was going on and couldn't help but tease, "Old man, you wouldn't be rushing to take on a disciple to disrupt the game because you're about to lose, would you?"

His words carried a hint of the unconventional banter characteristic of time travelers.

Bai Qi wasn't annoyed; he simply stroked his beard, his smile deepening, his eyes filled with the joy of discovering a treasure and an indescribable, complex expectation.

The master-disciple relationship was established amidst this unfinished game of chess and a few lighthearted words.

Outside the window, the sky of the Warring States period was filled with turbulent winds and clouds, while inside, the fates of the old man and the young man were already tightly intertwined.

A teacher is one who imparts knowledge, instructs in skills, and resolves doubts. Bai Qi began to provide his female disciple with practical training, covering his military thoughts, the political situation of the Qin state, and some unpredictable secrets.

In addition, to take her to the battlefield, she must learn basic self-defense skills. What Bai Qi taught Gu Nan was "swords of battle formation," which emphasizes steady steps, sharp strikes, and the pursuit of defeating the enemy in the shortest time and with the highest efficiency. The sword moves are full of the Legalist "emphasis on tactics" and the military strategist "pragmatism," just like the style of the Qin army, which emphasizes practicality and de-emphasizes fancy moves.

Day after day, Gu Nan learned quickly, and she discovered that she finally had a cheat code that wasn't exactly a cheat code:
She possessed considerable strength, and despite being a woman, she had the abilities of a warrior, which greatly surprised Bai Qi.

Gu Nan is unaware that, as time goes by, she will discover another kind of extraordinary ability that can be described as a nightmare.

longevity.

In the path of swordsmanship, her modern thinking is good at grasping the core logic, but she always feels that something is missing, as if the sword is just a tool, cold and direct.

A month later, an old man with white hair and beard, dressed in a plain robe, drifted to the residence of Lord Wu'an.

His face was thin and refined, and his eyes were clear and deep, as if they could see through everything in the world. He was none other than Guiguzi, played by Yu Chenghui.

Mr. Yu Chenghui's ethereal and otherworldly demeanor, combined with his martial arts skills, allows him to stand there effortlessly, embodying the image of a reclusive master without needing to perform.

Bai Qi and Guiguzi were obviously old acquaintances. After a conversation, Bai Qi pointed to Gu Nan, who was practicing swordsmanship on the side, and said, "This boy is simple and honest, but in the art of swordsmanship, he has only grasped the form but not the spirit. I would appreciate your guidance, sir."

Why a son and not a daughter? Guiguzi chuckled inwardly, his gaze falling on Gu Nan. He smiled slightly, a smile like a spring breeze brushing across a deep pool, calm yet brimming with vitality.

He did not rush to teach the sword techniques, but instead walked slowly to the center of the courtyard and casually broke off a thin branch.

"Young friend, please take a look." Guiguzi's voice was calm, like a clear spring flowing.

Before he finished speaking, he held a tree branch and slowly rose into position.

At this moment, Yu Chenghui's performance was completely integrated with his swordsmanship. His movements were extremely smooth, as if he were not dancing with a sword, but performing an ancient Tai Chi routine.

Every turn, every arc, carries a unique rhythm, as if it merges with the surrounding breeze, the swaying bamboo shadows, and even the flowing time.

"The way of the sword is not in killing, but in defense." Guiguzi demonstrated and explained at the same time, his voice seemingly carrying a certain magic, reaching straight to people's hearts. "Too much rigidity is easy to break, too much flexibility is useless. Only by combining rigidity and flexibility can one reach the ultimate way."

His swordplay seemed weak and powerless, but when Gu Nan curiously attacked with the wooden sword as he requested, she was surprised to find that her strength was like a mud ox sinking into the sea, easily diverted and neutralized by that soft branch.

Guiguzi's movements were like willow catkins fluttering in the wind, always managing to evade her attacks by the slightest margin. However, the tree branch was like a leech, always able to gently touch her wrist, elbow, or shoulder well points the moment she exhausted her strength. It didn't hurt, but it made her arm go numb instantly.

"Do not use your eyes to see, but your heart to feel." Guiguzi guided her, "Feel the direction of the wind, perceive my intention. Before the sword moves, the intention moves first. Act later but arrive first, use stillness to control movement, use softness to overcome hardness."

This is no longer a simple teaching of martial arts skills, but an enlightenment about the "Tao".

Yu Chenghui's posture perfectly embodies the concept of "emphasizing meaning over strength, and transcending form with spirit." His swordsmanship contains the profound Taoist philosophy of "following nature" and "doing nothing yet accomplishing everything," as well as the dialectical wisdom of yin and yang complementing each other and the interplay of emptiness and fullness.

After a series of drills, Gu Nan was panting heavily, while Guiguzi's breathing was even, and his clothes remained perfectly in place.

He stopped and gently stuck the branch back into the soil, as if nothing had happened.

"The sword is an extension of the arm and a manifestation of the mind." Guiguzi looked at Gu Nan, who seemed to be deep in thought, and finally pointed out the key point: "Your master taught you to use the sword as a 'weapon' to kill generals and enemies, to protect yourself and make a living. This is the 'use' of the sword."

"I hope you know that a sword can also be a 'mirror,' reflecting one's true self, observing all things, and understanding the laws of nature. When to advance, when to retreat, when to hide, and when to reveal oneself—these principles are the same as those of the way of the sword."

These words resonated in Gu Nan's heart like the booming of a great bell.

This time traveler, who personally experienced this era of flourishing schools of thought, along with the viewers in front of the television, suddenly realized for the first time that swordsmanship is not just a fighting skill, but also a philosophy of self-cultivation and understanding the world.

Bai Qi's swordsmanship made her powerful, but Guiguzi's guidance opened the door to another realm for her:

A more reserved, wiser, and more fitting state of being for her as a "viewer" from another world.

This scene became the core cultural output point of the first episode of "The Book of Peace," apart from elements such as Go.

It vividly demonstrates to a global audience that Eastern martial arts are not merely a violent aesthetic; their core is profound philosophical thought and wisdom about life. Yu Chenghui, with his masterly demeanor, elevates "Chinese Kung Fu" to the level of "Tao," and this spiritual quality that transcends mere techniques is enough to make audiences from any cultural background reflect.

For East Asian audiences such as those from China, Japan, and South Korea, the scene of Guiguzi teaching swordsmanship brings a profound sense of cultural identity and aesthetic enjoyment. They can immediately understand the Taoist Yin-Yang philosophy and the Zen martial arts realm of "no moves are better than moves" behind "overcoming strength with softness" and "striking after the opponent has moved first".

In their eyes, Mr. Yu Chenghui's flowing sword dance, which emphasizes meaning over form, is the highest embodiment of Eastern aesthetics and philosophy, a familiar elegance and wisdom.

But what about Western viewers who are reading the subtitles for explanation?

They knew about "The Art of War," but the strategies and conclusions put forward by this ancient Chinese philosopher who lived before Christ predate "The Art of War" by more than a hundred years!
This will completely overturn the stereotype that "Chinese history consists only of emperors and wars" held by many Western viewers, making them realize the profoundness of ancient Chinese thought and its highly developed political wisdom.

At a deeper level, the Western philosophical tradition actually emphasizes active "cognition" and "conquest," such as Bacon's "knowledge is power."

But in this ancient Eastern country more than 2300 years ago, in addition to military strategists like Bai Qi, they also saw the wisdom of "adapting" and "guiding" demonstrated by Guiguzi.

This opened a completely new door of thought for them, namely, another form of power:
It's not about head-on confrontation, but about being like water, using flexibility and wisdom to resolve and guide forces.

This has always been the guiding principle for the great Eastern power in handling international relations; it is a supreme philosophical wisdom that has been passed down through the ages!

Of course, in the first episode, the screenwriter, or rather the founder of the project, Lu Kuan, simply planted the seed deep in the ground, not expecting it to immediately transform into a force for cultural export.

On this day, Bai Qi received orders and threw himself into intensive preparations for the campaign. Gu Nan got along very well with the old steward, maid Xiao Lü, and master's wife Wei Lan in the Wu An Jun Mansion. Everyone liked this unique girl, who also had a bit of a man's flamboyance and boldness.

Thus, Gu Nan, now left to his own devices, began the life of an ordinary old Qin person during the Warring States period. A series of lighthearted and carefree events, such as flirting with the maid Xiao Lü, buying a black horse, getting to know Wang Jian, and having a martial arts contest with Meng Wu, quickly passed by.

Among them, Meng Wu was Meng Tian's father. During this period, Gu Nan met many famous historical figures as a disciple of Lord Wu'an.

The Book of Peace uses her as a human camera to not only showcase these historical figures, but also to depict a China more than two thousand years ago to the world through the footsteps of time travelers.

Gu Nan walks into the market town of Xianyang at dawn, and the camera follows her as she meticulously scans the urban fabric of the late Warring States period:
The texture of the rammed earth city wall, the deep ruts on the stone slab road, and the various signs hanging on the shops along the street.

She would sit down at the food stall and order a bowl of hot "bean porridge" made primarily of soybeans or millet, served with salted shallots.

The camera will take close-up shots of the food preparation process and diners squatting by the roadside slurping their food, showcasing the most authentic local vitality.

She would observe craftsmen casting coins using clay molds, watch women weaving cloth with spinning wheels, and listen to merchants arguing over prices. These seemingly trivial details pieced together a real, bustling, and vibrant ancient society, rather than a cold term from a textbook.

Returning to the Wu'an Jun Mansion, what is displayed is the lifestyle aesthetics of the top nobles of the Warring States period, including the strict separate dining system, the rules for using bronze beans, gui vessels, and jue vessels, and the seating arrangements for people of different statuses.

Including kneeling and sitting postures, the arrangement of mats, tables, and screens in the room, and the light and shadow effects of bronze lamps at night;

Gu Nan helps Bai Qi organize documents, and the camera zooms in on the process of writing seal characters with a brush on bamboo slips, showing the format of official documents such as "dare to report" and "yes" and the process of sealing with mud and stamping with seals;
There are also games that are popular with both Chinese and foreign audiences, such as Go, pitch-pot, and Liubo, as well as gatherings to appreciate bronzes and jades.

From dining etiquette to daily life, from document administration to elegant gatherings and entertainment, the Book of Peace has brought so many surprises to Western audiences, who seem to be exploring another world!
After six months of top-tier marketing in mainland China and on Netflix, "The Book of Peace" attracted a massive audience worldwide, at least on its premiere night.

According to backend data since the start of the broadcast:
The video, titled "The Wisdom of the Mainland," has garnered over 7000 million views, setting a new viewing record for domestic video platforms. The total number of bullet comments exceeded 300 million within half an hour of its premiere, with peaks occurring during key scenes such as the opening global historical comparison subtitles, Gu Nan's theft of Bai Qi and subsequent counterattack, and Guiguzi's sword-giving ceremony.

The comments quickly evolved from initial praise like "cinematic quality!" and "brilliant subtitles" to heated discussions about the plot, historical details, and characters' fates, creating a strong community interaction atmosphere and a positive word-of-mouth effect.

On Netflix, The Book of Peace premiered in more than 40 countries and regions. After its release, the number of unique viewers worldwide exceeded 500 million. It performed exceptionally well in North America, the United Kingdom, France, Australia, South Korea and parts of Latin America, quickly rising to the top three on Netflix's local drama popularity charts. In Hong Kong and Taiwan, it even topped the charts.

To the surprise of the creators, the barrage comments from foreign viewers reached their peak during this segment on "the life of the Qin people"!
Just two years after the successful hosting of the 2008 Beijing Olympics, the world has gained a stunning glimpse into modern China, but for many ordinary Westerners, their understanding of its ancient history often remains stuck in a few stereotypes:
It could be the queue and mandarin jacket of the Qing Dynasty, or a vague "Oriental mysticism".

With the endorsement of world-class director Lu Kuan, the emergence of "The Book of Peace" has accomplished a powerful historical rectification and civilizational tracing with its meticulously researched rituals, architecture, clothing and daily life scenes.

It declares to the world:

Several centuries BC, while the Roman Republic was still rising, a highly developed and mature civilization with complete rituals and unique aesthetics and philosophical thought already existed on the land of China.

Ordinary viewers in Europe and America don't seem to have any concept of "cultural invasion," and genuine comments and tweets are flying everywhere:
"It turns out that the Chinese were not like we imagined more than two thousand years ago! Their aristocratic life was so elegant, complex and full of ritual!"

"Before watching this drama, my impression of ancient China was limited to emperors with queues (braids). Now I realize that their Warring States period actually existed in the same time and space as the classical periods of ancient Greece and Rome! And their civilizations were so different, so refined!"

Alexander, a European architecture history enthusiast, commented: "The grand and simple rammed earth platforms and wooden structures of the Qin palaces in the drama have a geometric solemnity that is no less than that of Greek temples. They are just different in materials, but their grandeur is amazing!"

Allen Iverson, a linguistics student at NYU, commented: "What shocked me most was that although the seal script used in the show was difficult to decipher, it was clearly the direct ancestor of modern Chinese characters. This means that their civilization has not been interrupted for more than two thousand years! Just think, how many scripts and languages ​​in Europe during the same period have long since disappeared?"

Italian philosophy professor Corleone remarked on Twitter: "Through the dialogues of figures like Bai Qi and Guiguzi, I vaguely sensed a very practical philosophical idea. The discussions about power, war, and human nature are profound. This is not just about fighting, but also about how to govern a country and how to understand human nature; its complexity is no less than that of Plato's *Republic*."

The first season's plot drew to a close amidst this heated discussion, leaving a major cliffhanger at the end:

In 260 BC, the 47th year of King Zhaoxiang of Qin, in the summer...

In the solemn yet oppressive main hall of Xianyang Palace, the King of Qin's edict had been issued.

Dressed in black armor, Lord Wu'an Bai Qi knelt on one knee, received the tiger tally, and secretly set off on his expedition.

The weariness and heaviness on his face had been replaced by an almost cold-blooded determination, and in his eyes that had seen through life and death, rise and fall, only the duties that a military general must fulfill remained.

He knew all too well that this journey would be a bloody path from which there was no turning back.

Outside the palace, war drums thundered and horns blared. Black Qin army banners blotted out the sky, and the sounds of armor clashing with weapons created a chilling atmosphere.

Bai Qi was hidden in the army formation, and Wang Jian took the lead. However, there was one figure in this grim army that stood out.

Liu Yifei, who plays Gu Nan, is wearing a slightly oversized leather armor and riding on the back of a warhorse named "Blackie," which is also clad in black armor.

Her long hair was tightly bound inside her helmet, and although her face had been washed clean, it was paler than when she was wandering. Her eyes were filled with complex emotions as she gazed at the mountain-like figure in front of her.

My mentor was Lord Wu'an, Bai Qi.

Gu Nan was surrounded by Qin soldiers marching in silence, their eyes numb yet resolute. They were war machines, but also individuals about to be swallowed up by the war.

The air was thick with dust, sweat, and a sense of tension about an unknown fate.

At this moment, as Gu Nan's face paled on horseback and the journey progressed, the inner monologue of a transmigrator about to enter a world where swords and spears have no eyes and bloodshed is ever-present echoed:
“I knew this day would come, I knew history could not be changed…” The camera zoomed in on her hand, which was gripping the reins tightly and whose knuckles were white.

"I know that this silent army before me will soon create a 'miracle' that will be debated for a thousand years to come, and will also bear a crime that will shake the heavens and the earth..."

The scene flashed back to her memories of later historical records about the "Battle of Changping" and "Bai Qi burying his soldiers alive," blurring together imagined scenes of carnage and bloodshed.

Strangely, Ryuichi Sakamoto's "Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence (Theme)" suddenly started playing, the background music full of Eastern philosophy and tragic aesthetics paired with Xiao Liu's monologue, a poignant sense of fate washed over us.

“I have read every line of history books, and I know that behind every number are 400,000 people who were once like them... who could breathe, who could feel fear, and who could miss their hometown.”

“Master said that he wanted to stop war with war and yearned for peace in the world. But must the road to peace be paved with so many bones and soaked in so much blood?”

The camera zooms in on the resolute yet aged profile of Bai Qi, played by Li Xuejian, a historical figure whom Gu Nan both respects and worries about after spending more than a year with him.

"what can I do?"

Just as she finished speaking, Ryuichi Sakamoto's piano piece moved into the next heavy and long single note.

This note is not like a melody, but more like a helpless sigh from the depths of history, perfectly blending with Gu Nan's unanswered question.

At the same time, the camera gave Liu Yifei an extreme close-up of her face:

Her pale face and eyes reflected a mix of the prophet's pain, the individual's powerlessness, and a faint, persistent flame that refused to be extinguished.

The background was immediately filled with blood, setting a bloody preview and creating suspense for both East Asian viewers familiar with this history and Western viewers who were not.

Xiao Liu's complex expression, amplified by the somber musical notes, was deeply etched into the hearts of every audience member.

The first volume of "The Book of Peace: Vast Expanse" has ended.

(End of this chapter)