Liu Suifeng silently listened to Professor Zhao's reflections, his gaze somewhat distant.
Only a year had passed between before and after the Reiki Revival, yet the changes that had taken place in that short year were beyond the imagination of countless people.
Too much had happened over that year, but even so, it was nowhere near as difficult as those days had been.
In that era, even simply wanting to survive had been a luxurious dream.
Huaxia had been fortunate. Whether in the past or present, there had always emerged heroes capable of leading Huaxia out of hardship. They came from every place and profession, carrying only one dream in their hearts—the revival of Huaxia.
He, too, had been fortunate—fortunate to become a witness to this era, even to become an insignificant part of it.
Still, he wondered how future generations would judge what he was doing now.
"Don't overthink it, Suifeng."
Professor Zhao seemed to have seen through Liu Suifeng's thoughts. He smiled and shook his head, speaking in a gentle yet confident tone.
"Huaxia civilization can accommodate fifty-six ethnic groups. What difference would one more make?"
"Our cultural confidence comes from thousands of years of cultural heritage and the great achievements of countless sages throughout history, but that does not mean we blindly reject foreign cultures."
"All Rivers Run into the Sea; embracing and assimilating all things is our principle."
Great in rites and ceremonies, thus called Xia; beautiful in dress and adornment, thus called Hua.
Huaxia's cultural confidence had not been founded on a sense of superiority held by an advanced civilization toward a backward one. Perhaps some dynasty in history had been like that, but what flowed through the river of Huaxia's history and was engraved into its civilization was tolerance—All Rivers Run into the Sea,