May 6, 1905. Early summer. With the rainy season still a month away, the skies over Shaoxing were clear and the temperature pleasant. On this fine morning, Xu Xilin was entertaining a guest at his home.

A gentle breeze drifted into the small parlor, carrying the scent of flowers from the courtyard. It was a typical Shaoxing parlor: against the north wall stood a table flanked by two carved official's hat chairs, while four other chairs were arranged in two rows in the center of the room. Landscape paintings and calligraphy hung on the walls. The environment was quiet and comfortable, perfect for conversation. The carved window lattices were screened with gauze, and the sunlight filtering through cast beautiful, intricate shadows into the room. It was a scene rich with classical flavor.

Xu Xilin, wearing a long gown and sporting a queue, sat in the host’s seat, while a short-haired man in a Western suit sat in the guest’s position. Xu Xilin was thirty-two years old this year; he had a lean figure, soft facial contours, and a pair of thick, pitch-black eyebrows that were particularly striking. The guest’s age was hard to pin down. He had the distinctively chiseled square face of a northerner, with a high forehead, high cheekbones, and a high bridge to his nose. Deep in his eye sockets, large, beautiful eyes shone with intelligence.

Having only recently joined the Restoration Society, Xu Xilin—a revolutionary who would gain considerable fame in history—studied the guest across from him with a smile. It wasn't that Xu Xilin hadn't seen Western suits before, but Chen Ke's suit was simply too unconventional. Chen Ke seemed unbothered by Xu Xilin’s curiosity. He wore a dark yellow casual suit made of a blended fabric, with leather patches reinforced at the elbows. Underneath was a dark green shirt with faint vertical stripes, a dark blue tie held by a gold tie clip, and a pair of crystal cufflinks at his wrists. A casual suit from the 21st century would not be considered fashionable in this era by any standard; it wouldn't even qualify as niche. Yet, Xu Xilin’s gaze held only mild curiosity, not shock. This alone was enough to prove the famous revolutionary's personal cultivation.

The meeting between Xu Xilin and Chen Ke had come about rather abruptly. Even for Xu Xilin, who loved making friends, looking back on it now felt amusing.

Yesterday at noon, Qiu Jin had suddenly sent someone to notify Xu Xilin that a short-haired man in a Western suit was holding a piece of paper with Xu Xilin’s name on it. He spoke a strange Mandarin and was asking anyone who looked like a scholar how to find Xu Xilin. Qiu Jin wanted to know what relationship Xu Xilin had with this odd character. After listening to the report from Qiu Jin’s servant, Xu Xilin was quite surprised. He had a wide circle of acquaintances, including students in Shaoxing who had cut their queues. But Qiu Jin’s letter stated that she had never seen this person before. Xu Xilin and Qiu Jin were cousins as well as revolutionary comrades; if even the widely-connected Qiu Jin hadn't met this man, Xu Xilin likely didn't know him either.

Xu Xilin asked where the man was now. Qiu Jin’s servant replied that he wasn't far away. Xu Xilin then asked what the man looked like. The servant thought for a moment before answering—"Either rich or noble." Driven by curiosity, Xu Xilin went to see for himself.

He could see Chen Ke from afar at the street corner. Southerners were generally not tall, and in this era of malnutrition, Chen Ke’s height of 1.82 meters made him stand a head taller than the common folk, truly a crane standing among chickens. At that moment, several Shaoxing hooligans were surrounding Chen Ke, provoking him in the local dialect. Chen Ke appeared to be listening intently, a trace of confusion floating on his characteristically northern face. His demeanor was unmistakably that of a scholar.

Realizing the stranger didn't understand Shaoxing dialect, the hooligans moved in, preparing to shove him around. Chen Ke immediately understood the meaning of this clear action. He raised his left hand, his movement not fast but perfectly timed. His smooth, slender fingers clamped onto the lead hooligan’s neck like steel pincers. With just a slight exertion of force, the hooligan’s face instantly turned the color of pig liver. The hooligan instinctively grabbed the wrist that was choking him with both hands, trying to pry it open. Chen Ke took a step forward and lightly swung his left arm. The hooligan, eyes already rolling back, was thrown straight into his cohorts. Like a collapsing gourd trellis, the group fell to the ground together. A burst of happy laughter erupted from the onlookers.

Xu Xilin was quite appreciative of Chen Ke’s performance. In an era where scholars were generally physically frail, such skill was extremely rare. When Chen Ke disciplined the hooligans, his face lacked the fierce, perverse expression common to those who enjoyed violence. Furthermore, Chen Ke’s attire was distinct from the returned students; the fabric of his clothes was fine, not the bright sheen of silk, but possessing a somewhat worn look, yet clean and neat. It was pleasing to the eye no matter how one looked at it.

Xu Xilin nudged his dumbfounded servant, instructing him to give Chen Ke a visiting card and invite him to visit the next day. From a distance, Xu Xilin watched Chen Ke struggle to communicate with the servant for a while. Then the servant ran back in a flash. Chen Ke glanced in Xu Xilin’s direction and smiled.

The news brought back by the servant satisfied Xu Xilin. Chen Ke said the inn he was staying at was very crude and asked if he could visit the Xu residence personally the next day. Xu Xilin, by nature fond of making friends, immediately had the servant send word that he would await Chen Ke at home the following day.

In the China of 1905, revolutionary aspirants everywhere were establishing connections. Xu Xilin had already joined the Restoration Society and met Tao Chengzhang. Tao Chengzhang had harbored ambitions from a young age, taking the expulsion of the Manchus and opposition to the Qing as his personal duty. He had twice traveled to Beijing in failed attempts to assassinate Empress Dowager Cixi, and later went alone to Japan to study military science. After returning the following year, he actively participated in revolutionary activities, traveling in ragged clothes and worn shoes between Zhejiang, Fujian, and Anhui to contact fellow revolutionaries. He often tied a hemp rope around his waist and wore straw sandals, walking across Zhejiang, "walking one hundred and ten *li* a day, sparing no effort." Hangzhou was separated from his home by only a strip of water, yet he "passed Hangzhou four times without returning home."

Xu Xilin had decided to meet Chen Ke the moment he saw his short hair. In the late Qing Dynasty, that short hair already explained a lot. As a revolutionary, it would have been a huge joke if Xu Xilin turned away a short-haired young man who came to visit.

"Mr. Xu, I have been presumptuous in coming to visit, which is already quite rude. I am deeply grateful that you could take time out of your busy schedule to receive me," Chen Ke said in standard 21st-century Putonghua.

Xu Xilin smiled and was about to speak when a servant brought in tea, placing two tea bowls in front of each person, then stood aside.

"Mr. Chen, please have some tea." Xu Xilin also spoke Mandarin, though his accent was thick with Shaoxing tones.

Chen Ke nodded in acknowledgement. Of the two cups, one was plain water and the other was clear tea. Having rushed over early in the morning without drinking anything, Chen Ke felt truly thirsty seeing the water. He picked up the plain water and drained it in one gulp. The servant standing behind Chen Ke immediately showed a look of mockery. Xu Xilin glared at the servant, then picked up his own plain water and drained it as well, before waving his hand. The servant removed the bowls meant for rinsing the mouth. Only then did Xu Xilin pick up the tea bowl. "Mr. Chen, please drink tea."

Both men took a sip of tea before Xu Xilin asked, "Where is Mr. Chen from?"

"Zhengzhou, Henan," Chen Ke replied.

Chen Ke was clean-shaven with short hair that seemed intentionally cut unevenly. He looked very spirited. Xu Xilin had been guessing Chen Ke's age and had only concluded it was somewhere between twenty and thirty-five. Judging by appearance alone, Chen Ke looked at most twenty; his occasional smiles made him look very young. But when Chen Ke put away his smile, that solemn demeanor, especially his calm, unwavering gaze, made him appear much more mature than his looks suggested.

"From Henan to here is a long journey of a thousand *li*. I wonder what advice Mr. Chen has for me?" Xu Xilin asked.

Chen Ke did not rush to answer this question. Since returning to this era, Chen Ke had thought long and hard about his future. He absolutely had no intention of being buried alongside the Manchu Qing. As a modern person, revolution was practically the only path Chen Ke could choose. However, he didn't like the Tongmenghui (Alliance Society). After much thought, the only organization he could join was the Restoration Society. The only leaders of the Restoration Society Chen Ke could remember were Xu Xilin and Qiu Jin. That was why he had traveled all the way to Shaoxing to "find the organization." But the Restoration Society was a local revolutionary party of Zhejiang; for an outsider like him to join smoothly would be incredibly difficult. How to gain Xu Xilin's trust was the main issue Chen Ke had considered along the way.

Chen Ke spoke, and although he had weighed his words many times, he still sounded somewhat unconfident. Apart from the "glorious deeds" recorded in textbooks, Chen Ke knew nothing else about Xu Xilin. Since he dared to rebel and could become an important figure in the Anhui officialdom, he certainly couldn't be an idiot. So Chen Ke spoke slowly, sounding a bit hesitant. "Mr. Xu, I have come from afar, so naturally I have a favor to ask of you. The world today has decayed to such a state that revolution is unavoidable. It has been five or six years since the Gengzi Incident. The Manchu Qing seems to be experiencing a momentary recovery before death, but in reality, it is fundamentally beyond saving. Yet now the Constitutionalists are making a clamor, and I look down on them greatly. The so-called New Policies of the Qing are merely to appease the world and deceive the scholars. In their bones, they are only for the benefit of the Manchus. Not to mention that everything the Qing does completely misses the point. To be honest, Mr. Xu, I have been studying abroad and only returned to my hometown this year. Overseas, foreigners look down on Chinese people. Upon returning, I see confusion high and low, with no one knowing where China’s path lies. It is truly heartbreaking. There are no revolutionary parties in Henan. I heard that you, Mr. Xu, and Mr. Cai Yuanpei are the leaders in Jiangsu and Zhejiang. Therefore, I have heartfelt words I wish to express to you. I hope you will listen."

Xu Xilin assessed Chen Ke as he listened. Chen Ke's attire and appearance indeed suggested someone who had returned from overseas. Perhaps this was how Tao Chengzhang made connections with heroes from various places? Xu Xilin thought to himself, surprised that a revolutionary comrade as far away as Henan had heard his name. Thinking of this, Xu Xilin couldn't help but smile.

But Chen Ke was an outsider after all, and he bluntly stated his relationship with Cai Yuanpei. The Qing court was appeasing the gentry on one hand while sending spies everywhere to hunt down revolutionaries on the other. The Restoration Society had not been established for long, and people in Henan really shouldn't know about it, yet this Henan man knew. This made Xu Xilin feel it was quite incredible.

"I wonder what insights Mr. Chen has," Xu Xilin asked.

Chen Ke said frankly, "Mr. Xu, I have written something. Please take a look." With that, he took a stack of papers from the satchel he carried.

Xu Xilin took the manuscript. The cover was a plain white sheet. Upon opening it, he saw very high-quality paper with neatly arranged vertical indentations pressed into it; the paper alone was extraordinarily precious. Glancing at it casually, a look of surprise appeared on Xu Xilin's face, followed by an effort to suppress a mocking expression as he continued to read. It wasn't written with a brush; the strokes were thin, looking like they were written with a fountain pen, yet even finer. And the handwriting was truly ugly. In Xu Xilin's eyes, Chen Ke's writing was worse than a child's tracing. Furthermore, the manuscript used simplified characters entirely; some characters were simplified to the point of being unrecognizable.

The title on the right side of the first page was "Who is China's Enemy". Xu Xilin felt this was still within his tolerance. Judging by the handwriting alone, Xu Xilin felt a sense of disdain for Chen Ke, but on second thought, the fact that Chen Ke was literate meant his background was by no means ordinary. He looked at the manuscript again; there were over thirty pages, densely packed with characters. There must be at least ten thousand words. In this day and age, being able to write so much text eloquently was no easy feat. He should at least be lenient.

"It seems Mr. Chen spent a lot of effort writing these things. I will read through it slowly first. Please wait a moment, Mr. Chen," Xu Xilin said.

"It is my honor that Mr. Xu is willing to offer his advice. Please take your time," Chen Ke responded quickly.

The article began with an outline. The full text was divided into five parts. The first part discussed the differences in industrialization between China and Europe. This was the reason for the massive gap in national power between the two sides. The second part narrated a prediction of the Manchu Qing's future development. The third part explained what European and American capitalism actually was. The fourth part covered China's national power. The fifth part was on how to build a New China.

The language was a mix of classical and vernacular, making it very uncomfortable to read. Xu Xilin realized why the manuscript was so long. For simple narratives, Chen Ke could use classical Chinese, but for explaining new things where he couldn't find the appropriate classical expression, he switched directly to the vernacular. Although the reading experience was quite uncomfortable, Xu Xilin was soon attracted by the content of the article.

The content explained was merely common viewpoints from the 21st century: the industrialized West was not necessarily richer than China, but the amount of material the nations could commit to war was immense. The Qing system and China's status as an agricultural nation meant the materials China could commit to war were completely disproportionate. From the perspective of a 21st-century internet article, the data wasn't detailed enough, not enough "hard facts." But for Xu Xilin in 1905, this was information he had never seen before. Honestly speaking, even the Qing government couldn't produce such detailed data as a basis for national policy. Let alone Xu Xilin, who was merely a member of the ordinary gentry in the Jiangsu and Zhejiang region.

Just finishing this part moved Xu Xilin greatly. From the Opium War to the Eight-Nation Alliance, China had lost every battle against foreigners, which Xu Xilin viewed as a profound humiliation. Chen Ke’s article analyzed these wars clearly: why they were fought, how the armies on both sides operated. The organizational models of the armies, the methods of war and the process of battle, the results of the battles and the outcomes of the wars—many sections used tables to list and compare specific data for both sides. The introduction and summary were organized and logical.

After reading this, Xu Xilin put down the manuscript and stood up. "Mr. Chen is a great talent. I have had eyes but failed to see Mount Tai. I have been disrespectful." With that, Xu Xilin clasped his hands and bowed deeply.

Seeing Xu Xilin stand, Chen Ke quickly stood up as well. Seeing Xu Xilin bow, Chen Ke hurriedly returned the gesture. "Mr. Xu praises me too highly. If not for a hero like you, who could understand my writing? In writing this, my thoughts were actually quite incomplete. I hope Mr. Xu can point out the flaws."

Suppressing his excitement, Xu Xilin asked Chen Ke to sit. "Mr. Chen, I must finish reading your manuscript now. Please wait a moment."

"It doesn't matter. I came today specifically to ask you to read my work. If you couldn't stand reading it, wouldn't my trip have been in vain?" Chen Ke said with a smile.

"Serve tea, serve snacks," Xu Xilin called out. After hearing the servant respond, Xu Xilin hurriedly picked up the manuscript and continued reading. After the analysis of the gap between China and Europe, the manuscript moved to the prediction of the Qing Dynasty's future development. For this part, Chen Ke had simply summarized and copied from history books: from the preparatory constitutionalism to the establishment of advisory councils everywhere, to some improvements in the New Policies, then the Qing's final launch of the "Royal Cabinet," the disappointment of the advisory councils, all the way to sitting by and watching the Qing's destruction.

Xu Xilin was shocked by this section. He usually liked to comment on state affairs, and birds of a feather flock together—his friends were the same. But when they talked about revolution, it was nothing more than overthrowing the Manchus. As for how to overthrow them, most advocated violent revolution. Either assassinations or staging uprisings. When talking about it, everyone’s blood boiled with high spirits. But when it came to actually doing it, it felt incredibly difficult. No one had ever looked at national affairs from the height of the state itself.

Chen Ke's manuscript described the Qing Dynasty clearly and concisely. When describing the Qing, the wording was filled with a sense of indifference. To Xu Xilin, the Qing was a living, breathing, powerful existence. In Chen Ke's writing, the Qing was like dry bones in a grave, a walking corpse. After reading these words, a feeling rose in Xu Xilin’s chest: defeating the Qing could be such an easy thing.

Unknowingly, he had turned to the last page. Xu Xilin discovered that the final character was just the middle of a sentence; the entire article simply cut off there.

"Mr. Chen, this manuscript seems unfinished." Xu Xilin stared at Chen Ke with burning eyes, as if to squeeze the remaining text out of his face.

"In my haste, the article hasn't been finished yet." Xu Xilin's intense gaze made Chen Ke uncomfortable. He picked up his teacup, wanting to ease the atmosphere by drinking tea, only to find the cup was dry. Xu Xilin saw through Chen Ke's unnatural movement at a glance. He got up, went out, called a servant over, and whispered a few instructions. The servant looked up at Xu Xilin in surprise. Xu Xilin gave a few more instructions, and the servant turned and left.

After returning to the parlor, Xu Xilin personally refilled Chen Ke's tea. After they sat down again, Xu Xilin said with glowing spirits, "I have prepared a meager meal for lunch and would like to have a few drinks with you, Mr. Chen." As he spoke, he looked at the manuscript on the tea table again. "I have just read your masterpiece. I am untalented and shallow in learning, and there are some things in it I cannot grasp. I hope you will not withhold your instruction."

"I took the liberty to visit because I wanted to make your acquaintance, Mr. Xu. My writing is crude and careless, and some things are just my own wild guesses. There is much I would like to ask you to point out. I will impose upon you for this meal then." Chen Ke was polite, but inwardly he breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed this first step had been taken correctly.

"Mr. Chen, may I ask your age?"

"Born in the Western calendar year 1880, so 25 this year." Chen Ke advanced his birth date by one hundred years. "And you, Mr. Xu?"

"I am 32, a few years your senior. You are so young, Mr. Chen. But in the world today, there are many young people revealing their talent, like Chen Tianhua and Zou Rong, who were only in their twenties when they became famous," Xu Xilin praised. "Where did you study overseas?"

"I studied abroad for a few years, but as to where, I really cannot say. I hope you will forgive me."

"Why?" Xu Xilin asked in astonishment.

"I have decided to dedicate myself to the revolution, and from now on I have absolutely no relationship with my family. Therefore, I cannot disclose these matters," Chen Ke replied solemnly.

Xu Xilin pondered for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Could it be that you are a Manchu, Mr. Chen?"

Hearing this sudden question, Chen Ke’s eyes widened in shock. "How did I become a Manchu? My family have been northern Han people for generations. Perhaps my ancestors were descendants of Xiongnu who submitted, but definitely not Manchus. Besides, the Grand Historian’s *Records of the Grand Historian* records that the Xiongnu were also descendants of the Yan and Yellow Emperors, so I am a genuine descendant of the Yan and Yellow Emperors. How did I turn into a Manchu?"

"Looking at your article, you seem quite knowledgeable about political affairs. I was somewhat worried you might be a Manchu. If you were, well, I absolutely would not associate with you," Xu Xilin replied seriously.

"If I were a Manchu, may heaven and earth destroy me," Chen Ke said, also with great seriousness. "I am a descendant of the Yan and Yellow Emperors. The Manchus are merely barbarians who stole China; I would never willingly be a barbarian. I still have that much sense of shame."

Xu Xilin looked at Chen Ke’s serious expression and heard the oath, so he believed him. "Looking at your attire and your knowledge, could it be that your family are high officials in the court?"

Hearing this, Chen Ke stood up and spoke clearly, "After dedicating myself to the revolution, I have nothing to do with my family. I grew up overseas from a young age and will never be loyal to the Manchu Qing. Although I have never worn a queue, I too have ancestors, and I cannot say my ancestors never wore queues. So I am me, and my family is my family. Since I walked out the door, we are unrelated. Regarding my origins, I refuse to make up lies to deceive you, Brother Xu, but I also cannot tell you. I hope you will understand." After speaking, Chen Ke bowed deeply.

Before Xu Xilin could speak, a bright female voice came from outside the parlor. "These words are just like Chen Tianhua's in *The Revolutionary Army*. If it is truly because of dedicating oneself to the revolution that one severs ties with family, then each person has their own aspirations. Boxun, you need not force him." Boxun was Xu Xilin’s courtesy name. Xu Xilin was very familiar with this voice; he had just sent a servant to invite Qiu Jin, but he hadn't expected her to arrive so quickly.

Chen Ke looked out the door and saw a woman in her thirties striding into the parlor. She had a long oval face, delicate features, and a heroic air. Xu Xilin stood up and said a few sentences in Shaoxing dialect. Chen Ke wasn't completely unable to understand Shaoxing dialect; he could understand about seventy or eighty percent of Shaoxing Mandarin. Xu Xilin essentially said, "Xuanqing, I just sent someone to find you, I didn't expect you to come so fast."

Although not entirely certain, Chen Ke guessed the arrival was indeed Qiu Jin. The three stood in the hall. Before Xu Xilin could introduce them, Chen Ke couldn't help but ask, "Is this Mr. Qiu Jin?"

Both Xu Xilin and Qiu Jin were startled. Qiu Jin looked Chen Ke up and down. "I wonder how to address this gentleman?" Qiu Jin used very unpolished Henan dialect; the accent was more Southern, sounding like Hakka, but that flavor of Henan speech suddenly gave Chen Ke a feeling of local nostalgia.

"I am Chen Ke. It is a great honor to meet Mr. Qiu," Chen Ke quickly replied in Henan dialect.

Hearing Chen Ke's Henan dialect, Qiu Jin paused, then laughed heartily. "So Mr. Chen Ke is from Henan. In the capital, Henan dialect counts as official speech. No wonder you refused to speak of your family background."

In the late Qing officialdom, most people used Henan dialect rather than the ruffian-like Beijing accent. In the early years of the Republic, when discussing the national language, if not for the fall of the Henan-born Yuan Shikai and the lack of Henan people in power, Henan dialect might well have been elected as the national official language.

After the three sat down, Xu Xilin handed Chen Ke's manuscript to Qiu Jin. She read ten lines at a glance, and after reading only a few pages, she slapped the table and stood up. "Today, even if just to see this masterpiece, the trip has not been in vain. Who wrote this?" As soon as the words fell, Qiu Jin answered herself, "It seems it was written by Mr. Chen Ke."

"Exactly," Xu Xilin replied.

Qiu Jin looked Chen Ke up and down a few times, but said to Xu Xilin, "If one hears the Way in the morning, one can die content in the evening. Boxun, I'm treating everyone to wine today."

Xu Xilin laughed. "I have already had someone prepare a meager meal. If Xuanqing wishes to treat us to wine, I will accompany Mr. Chen Ke to impose on you next time."

Hearing this, everyone laughed together. Qiu Jin persisted, "Boxun, let me take this manuscript. I'll return it to you next time I treat you to wine."

"This manuscript is incomplete. Next time Xuanqing treats us, Mr. Chen Ke must bring the complete manuscript," Xu Xilin joked.

"Written so much and it's still incomplete?" Qiu Jin was genuinely surprised now.

"Xuanqing will know after finishing it," Xu Xilin said.

Just then, the Xu family servant entered to announce that the banquet was ready.

"If you are hungry, go drink first. I want to finish reading this manuscript before anything else," Qiu Jin said, sitting back in her chair and continuing to read from where she left off.

Xu Xilin waved his hand to the servant, who tactfully retreated. The two men in the parlor sat back in their chairs. In the quiet room, there was only the sound of pages turning from time to time.