Seeking good fortune and avoiding misfortune, I became a legend in the entertainment industry by avo

Chapter 152 Experiencing Lin Juemin's Short Life

This activation was different from before; he was standing in a void.

There are two choices ahead.

One option is to quickly browse through a lifetime in ten days, while the other is to choose a specific time period to experience for ten days.

Zhang Qilin calculated in his mind that the story of the Xinhai Revolution mainly focuses on 1911.

However, Lin Juemin's growth and the formation of his thoughts occurred much earlier.

To understand this person's choice, he must return to the source of his thoughts.

With more than ten days until the audition, he had plenty of time to get into character twice.

He didn't know if he could withstand two side effects in a short period of time, but it was the best way to understand the character.

A moment of silence.

"Starting from childhood," he murmured to himself.

Immediately afterwards, a white light engulfed him.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself lying on a carved bed, surrounded by a group of people dressed in Qing Dynasty attire, who were looking at him with delight.

A middle-aged man stepped forward, his eyes filled with loving kindness: "Juemin, you're awake?"

He knew from his memory that this was his adoptive father, Lin Xiaoying.

After getting into character twice before, he had adapted and was now like an observer, experiencing life alongside the character.

Time flies.

Five-year-old Lin Xiaoying, his adoptive father, held his hand as he stepped out of the high-walled compound for the first time.

The bustling and lively atmosphere of Fuzhou's streets and markets is immediately apparent.

Lin Juemin looked around curiously until his adoptive father led him into a narrow alley.

Deeper into the alley, the scene is completely different.

The ragged woman huddled in the corner, the baby in her arms crying faintly, like a cat's meow.

Several elderly men leaned against the earthen wall, basking in the sun; their bare arms were so thin they were just skin and bones.

A boy of about seven or eight years old was barefoot, rummaging through the mud, his fingernails filled with black mud.

"Father, what are they looking for?" Kobayashi Kakumin asked, looking up.

Lin Xiaoying was silent for a moment, then said in a low voice, "Find something to eat."

"But there was only soil and stones on the ground."

Lin Xiaoying did not answer, but gently pulled him and turned to leave.

Kobayashi Kakumin looked back and saw the boy finally dig a piece of tree root out of the soil, wipe it with his dirty sleeve, and stuff it into his mouth to chew vigorously.

That night, for the first time, Kobayashi Juemin did not finish the rice in his bowl.

He actually saw the scene described in the book: people who were barely clothed.

He was 8 years old when his adoptive mother, Huang, passed away from illness, and a severe famine struck Fuzhou.

The old locust tree by the roadside had its bark stripped bare, revealing its pale trunk.

Several sallow-faced, emaciated women squatted by the earthen slope, digging something with broken tiles.

Later he learned that it was called Guanyin soil, which could temporarily fill his stomach but could not be excreted, and would eventually cause him to die from bloating.

In the distance, people who had starved to death lay lying by the roadside, unburied.

Further away.

A dozen or so ragged refugees knelt by the roadside, kowtowing to passersby and begging for food.

Just then, a group of constables rushed over, brandishing whips: "Have you paid this year's poll tax? Land tax? City entry tax? You dare to beg here if you haven't paid your taxes?"

The dull thud of the whip striking flesh mingled with cries of agony.

An old woman was knocked to the ground, and half a blackened cake fell out of her arms, which was immediately snatched away by the vagrants nearby.

The constable stepped on the vagrant's hand: "Begging tax, three copper coins!"

Time slipped away amidst the chaos.

The Qing Dynasty was defeated, and had to pay reparations and increase taxes.

The number of beggars in Fuzhou has decreased, not because they have found a way to survive, but because more and more people are starving to death.

When the Lin family's porridge stall reopened, the people who came to collect porridge had blank stares, like walking skeletons.

Kobayashi Satoru gradually grew up.

He studied, practiced calligraphy, and learned to write in the eight-legged essay style, but he always harbored a deep resentment.

Why do books say that "the people are the most important, and the state is secondary"?

Is the reality that the people are treated like dirt?

Why do sages preach benevolent governance and love for the people, yet the government still taxes even beggars?

In the spring of his thirteenth year, he participated in the preliminary examination for the imperial examination.

The hair test results came back, and the topic was about how to govern a country.

Kobayashi Kakumin picked up his brush and dipped it in ink, but images flashed before his eyes:

Famine, refugees, exorbitant taxes, official corruption, and foot binding among women —

He picked up his pen and wrote seven large characters on the exam paper:

A young man does not aspire to high office.

Then he threw down his pen and left.

That night, Lin Xiaoying didn't scold him, but just sighed: "Do you know that with your actions, your future will be jeopardized—"

"Father," Kobayashi Kakumin looked up, "if my future means associating with those people, then I'd rather not have it."

Lin Xiaoying looked at him for a long time, then waved her hand: "Go."

At fourteen, news arrived from the north:

The Boxer Protocol was signed.

The government paid 4.5 million taels of silver in reparations to 11 countries, with principal and interest totaling approximately 9.8 million taels.

In the teahouse, the storyteller pounded his gavel, lamenting, "Four hundred million people, one ounce per person—this is draining the people of their blood!"

But even worse news was yet to come.

The imperial court's taxes were already heavy, and now an additional "indemnity tax" was added, supposedly to be shared by each province.

How much did Fujian account for?

No one could say for sure, but it was known that the grain tax had increased by 30%, the salt tax had doubled, and even the porters who came to the city to sell vegetables had to pay an extra two copper coins.

"This is not reparations," Kobayashi Juemin said to his classmates at school. "This is ransom. The imperial court has lost the war, but it wants the people to pay to redeem them."

His classmate, startled, covered his mouth and said, "Watch your mouth!"

What should you be careful about what you say?

Kobayashi Satoru thought.

The common people are starving to death, while the imperial court is exploiting the people to support foreigners, and we can't even say anything about it?

Lin Juemin entered a primary school at the age of 15.

The school had a large number of progressive books and periodicals, including the Su Bao, Jing Shi Zhong, Zhejiang Chao, and Tian Tao.

He read these books and periodicals with great eagerness.

In the library of the elementary school, he read "Ten Days in Yangzhou" for the first time.

The pages are yellowed, and every word is written in tears: "The Qing army massacred the city for ten days, and more than 800,000 people died—the number of women who were raped and thrown into wells was countless, and the wells were blocked—"

"Blood soaks the street stones, and the stain doesn't fade for three months—"

Lin Juemin's fingers were trembling.

He recalled reading history books when he was a child, filled with accounts of the royal army marching south and being "ordained by Heaven." He had never seen such things before.

He also read "The Three Massacres of Jiading" and "Eighty-One Days in Jiangyin," Huang Zongxi's "Waiting for the Dawn to Visit," and Liang Qichao's "On the New Citizen."

D

It turns out that history can be written in more than one way, and that the so-called "legitimate" system of the imperial court was built on countless corpses.

Revolutionary pioneers such as the brothers Lin Baishui, Huang Zhanyun, and Huang Yiyun often told students about the history of the persecution of Chinese people since the Qing army entered the pass during outings, and exposed the corrupt politics of the Qing Dynasty.

Mr. Huang pointed to the surging river and suddenly burst into tears: "This water was once stained with the blood of my Han people! This land was once buried with the soul of my Chinese nation! Do you know how many people died in Fuzhou when the Qing army entered Fujian?"

Nine out of ten houses were empty, and rivers of blood flowed!

The students were stunned.

Mr. Huang wiped away his tears and continued, "The court says that the Manchus and Han people are one family, but the Manchus hold official positions while the Han people pay taxes, the Manchus enjoy the benefits while the Han people suffer. The Boxer Indemnity was 450 million taels of silver, but did they contribute a single cent? Wasn't it just robbing the land of us Han people to fill the stomachs of foreigners?"

Lin Juemin felt his blood boil.

Those childhood questions have finally come together:

The beggar tax, famine, indemnity donations, the history of massacres—it turns out that everything has its roots.

"Sir," he stood up, his voice trembling, "what should we do?"

Huang Zhanyun looked at him and said, word by word: "Education saves the country, enlightens the people; revolution saves the country, and brings about a new era."

On the way back to school that day, Lin Juemin remained silent the entire way.

While his classmates were still engaged in heated discussions, he had already secretly made up his mind.

In 1902, Lin Juemin was admitted to the Fujian University.

The school held a lecture.

Lin Juemin stepped onto the stage, looked at the sea of ​​heads below, and took a deep breath: "Gentlemen! Today's court is unable to defend against foreign aggression or support the people. Officials are corrupt, clerks run rampant, and exorbitant taxes are as numerous as hairs on a cow. Meanwhile, those Manchus sit high in the halls of power and treat us Han people like pigs and dogs."

The audience was silent.

"Even more pathetic," he raised his voice, "is that the imperial court fears foreigners like tigers, ceding territory and paying indemnities, losing sovereignty and humiliating the nation. Where does the indemnity come from? From the blood and flesh of our people! What use is such a court?"

Some people gasped in surprise, while others paled.

Lin Juemin surveyed the entire room and said decisively:

Those who will bring down the Qing Dynasty will surely be of this kind.

In the summer of 1907, Lin Juemin decided to go to Japan to study in order to seek more advanced revolutionary ideas.

At the age of 22, Lin Juemin joined the Tongmenghui (Chinese Revolutionary Alliance) in Japan.

In the same year, he wrote "A Refutation of Kang Youwei" in Japan, vehemently criticizing the reformist proposals of the monarchists and publicly advocating revolution.

At the age of 23, Lin Juemin learned of the Huanghuagang Uprising plan and volunteered to return to Fujian to gather righteous men.

At the age of 24, due to betrayal by an internal traitor, Lin Juemin led a suicide squad to attack the Governor-General's Office of Guangdong and Guangxi, knowing that the task was futile. During the fierce battle, he was shot in the abdomen, exhausted, and captured.

During the interrogation, he stood firm with righteous indignation and denounced the corruption of the Qing government.

He ultimately died a heroic death on May 3.

The void before him shattered instantly, and countless points of light engulfed him.

Zhang Qilin opened his eyes and looked around at the modern room. He knew he had been taken out of the play.

He lay on the bed without moving.

He let those memories, emotions, and thoughts belonging to Lin Juemin surge, collide, and settle in his mind.

Those are no longer just a few lines in a history book, no longer just a few photos in a former residence.

Those were the twenty-four years I lived.

It is the first pity seen in the eyes of a five-year-old child, and the disdain and anger of a thirteen-year-old boy throwing down his pen.

It is the weeping and fervor of a fifteen-year-old youth upon hearing history, and the sharp rebuttal of a twenty-two-year-old patriot.

It is the heart-wrenching pain and unwavering resolve of a twenty-four-year-old husband writing "A Letter to My Wife," and the dignified selflessness of a martyr before his execution.

He understood why Lin Juemin did what he did.

That was a love so profound and intense for the land beneath their feet and for their fellow countrymen that they could not stand idly by.

It is the ultimate expression of benevolence, which extends the idea of ​​"respecting the elderly as one would one's own parents, and caring for the young as one would one's own children."

It is because I deeply love one person that I wish all lovers in the world could be together.

Because he deeply regretted the misfortune of his family, he vowed to change the fate of all families in the world.

Having understood Lin Juemin's choice, he checked his physical condition.

He chose to quickly browse through Lin Juemin's life, not in a way that involved experiencing each day firsthand, but rather as an observer.

Therefore, the side effects were much milder than he had anticipated.

It wasn't a strong physical discomfort, but rather a psychological feeling.

This is the afterimage of the world in Lin Juemin's eyes, the trace of that perception of "bloody clouds everywhere, and wolves and dogs all over the streets".

During the day, Zhang Qilin and Jing Tian shared their insights on getting into character.

He explained to Jing Tian how to get into character.

In a few days, he will immerse himself in the role of Lin Juemin and experience the last ten days of his life.

The realistic feeling will definitely have a stronger side effect after you leave the scene.

Therefore, we should give Jing Tian a heads-up in advance.

Zhang Qilin said to Jing Tian, ​​"In a few days, I might get too immersed in the role and start to think that I am Lin Juemin. Don't worry, this is a normal reaction when you get too immersed in the role. I will try my best to adjust and I will be able to get out of the role in three or four days."

"How deep will it be?" Jing Tian asked worriedly.

"I might forget that I am Zhang Qilin," Zhang Qilin explained. "I might act and think with the mindset and emotions of Lin Juemin, and might even say things that are outdated and do things that don't fit the current situation."

"Then what can I do?"

"As long as I don't do anything out of line, it'll be fine."

Jing Tian nodded.

A few days later, late at night, Zhang Qilin was once again adjusting his breathing on the hotel bed as his destiny was activated.

The white light engulfed him.

10:00 a.m. the next day

When Jing Tian knocked on the door and came in, she saw Zhang Qilin standing in front of the window, his back so straight it was almost stiff.

She asked with concern, "Dalin, how are you?"

He turned around, his eyes filled with a strangeness that Jing Tian had never seen before.

"I'm going to Yangqiao Lane," he said, his voice thick with a Fuzhou accent.

Jing Tian was stunned for a moment, then remembered Zhang Qilin's instructions over the past few days.

She calmed herself down and nodded, saying, "Okay, I'll take you there."