They had not never seen grand drills or great military parades before. They had witnessed the magnificent sight of tens or even hundreds of thousands gathered in one place for a troop inspection.
But in those parades, though tens or hundreds of thousands shouted in unison, their hearts were not in it.
Yet the people before them had fire in their hearts, had strength within them.
People would eventually grow old and die. The future would ultimately belong to the younger generation, and these people were all young.
At this moment, Zhao Cheng began his speech.
"Throughout the countless years of this world, every emperor, upon ascending the throne, has declared that he would create a golden age, that the nation would prosper and its people live in peace. They wrote imperial edicts and burned them in great cauldrons, thus conveying them to Heaven and to the kings of old. Every official, upon taking office, would say that he would never fail the emperor's solemn trust, that he would ensure the people under his rule could live and work in peace and contentment. These were the oaths they swore, the promises they made. Their words were forever a dazzling shower of flowers—every other sentence was 'the realm,' every other phrase 'the common people.' But what of reality?!"
"For countless years, this world has never changed. From the Holy Emperor of antiquity to the emperor of Great Cang today, nowhere in this realm is there any proof that they ever strove to fulfill their promises!"
"Even in a golden age, it is the emperor's golden age, the golden age of aristocratic clans and powerful magnates—not the golden age of the common folk, lowly as ants. No matter how glorious the age, farmers still worry whether they will go hungry in winter.