China's AI Blockbuster Is So Daring! Xi Jinping's Coup Rebirth, a Devastating Ending — Can Traveling Back to Ancient Times Save China? "The Taiping Drum"

This video features a deeply satirical AI-generated short drama titled "Taiping Drum." It tells the story of an ancient imperial court that establishes a "Ministry of Good News" dedicated to tampering with disaster reports, covering up civilian grievances, and creating the illusion of fifteen years without a single injustice across the realm. Gu Shan, an artisan, faces local obstruction while inspecting the drum by imperial decree. Xu He, an accompanying clerk, and Shen Zhaoning, the daughter of Lord Shen, witness the cover-up of the Anping mining disaster and choose to face the bloody truth, paying a heavy price for it. Through a narrative intertwining absurdity with reality, the short drama reflects the systemic evil of covering up disasters and whitewashing peace.

Video Link:

Full Text:

Nowadays, maritime trade is obstructed, tariffs are sharply reduced, and trade routes are being cut off one by one. Since the imperial court has no silver, it investigates old taxes, and when old taxes yield nothing, it issues fines. Yet what you submit to me is still clouds rising from all four seas, and ministers misleading me. The Emperor has reigned for 15 years, with peace across the four seas, millions living in joy and contentment, and across thirty-three prefectures and one thousand eight hundred seventy-four counties under heaven, the grievance-redressing drum has not sounded a single time in five thousand four hundred seventy-nine days. Mother, no one has beaten it in 15 years; is the drum broken? Old grain is about to spoil, and nothing is more taboo than replacing it. Once new grain comes in, it can sustain us for another few decades. But it's not just the house enduring this; someone has to sit on the dragon throne to accompany him through the final journey.

Why change it this way? The people are already gone; if written as fleeing a disaster, the imperial court will still press local officials on what happened; if written as a spring outing, at least it's not a bad thing. And the drought? The drought remains a drought; I didn't write it as white rain leaping like pearls. Miss, breakfast, the master has already eaten, leave it there. Zhang Ning, do you think this counts as lying? Not really, the people are still those people, and the place is still that place, just replaced with a more manageable phrasing. Excellent. River embankment breached, 320 households flooded. Change it to: river channels naturally widened, and waterway transport conditions greatly improved. Five thousand unruly mobs, unable to escape their demonic nature, led commoners in a spontaneous migration south to pioneer new land. Truly worthy of Lord Shen's daughter. Alert! Mine collapse! Stop! The newcomers, at most two people dead, the rest all missing. Get lost! No need. No one has beaten it in 15 years, why suddenly inspect it? Precisely because it has not sounded for years, we must prove the drum is not broken. Rice prices rose threefold in three months, what should be changed? Grain is active, and farmers' incomes have significantly increased. You used that one last year.

Who might you two be? My name is Xu He, a humble clerk at the Ministry of Good News. This is Shen, historiographer Zhou Zhaoning of the Ministry of Good News, ordered by Lord Shen to record this inspection. Just repairing a drum, why send the Ministry of Good News? An era of peace and prosperity naturally deserves to be recorded. Everything is worth rejoicing over now. Instead of showing it to the common people, it stays in the hands of the officials. I've lived over 60 years, why do civilian grievances need prior approval when arresting me? Don't bully the elderly! Stop searching, there is no drumstick. Why? Afraid of wind and rain. Without a stick, how can the common people voice their grievances? If you want to voice a grievance, you can enter the county yamen to apply for a stick. If one can enter the yamen, why would one need to beat a drum? Good drum. What about the old man? What old man? Master Gu, we came to inspect the drum, not people.

Remove the word spontaneous. Turns out Ms. Zhou also felt it was fake. Why is a single drum so terrifying to the local officials? It is because of him. What is this garbage? Every prefecture and county has peaceful days, theft cases, civil unrest, major disasters, collusion with foreign enemies beyond the frontier, and civil grievances. Once the drum sounds, the peaceful days of this county are reset to zero, and someone has suffered an injustice. Why should the magistrate be punished? The imperial court believes that proper governance naturally results in few grievances. What if there really are grievances? That is why governance is needed. How to govern? Keep them from thinking about it. Does the imperial court forbid the common people from voicing grievances? No, the law has never forbidden it; there is no need to forbid it at all. With a single beat of the drum, the magistrate cannot be promoted, the clerk's salary is docked, and the evaluation of the prefecture drops. Master Gu, the drum you are beating is the livelihood of hundreds of people. Why is it wrapped up? There is a school nearby, for fear that the sound of the drum will disturb the scholars. Master Gu, just make a symbolic gesture, there is no need to take it so seriously. Covered like this, it won't make a sound at all. Ha, no one has beaten it for 15 years, what difference does it make whether it sounds or not? Uncle Gu, didn't you say you had no appetite? Why are you eating faster than me? A person must eat to live; how can you have the strength to seek justice if you are not full?

Wait, that older woman, she is going to beat the grievance drum, go over and take a look. What are you doing? Seeking redress for a grievance. What is your grievance? Three months ago, the Anping mine collapsed. Hundreds of people, my son was also inside. At most two deaths, the rest are all missing. Where are the people? The government says those people in the mine did not have formal rosters, they counted as casual laborers, and some were even from out of town. Therefore, I don't want money, I just want the government to write one sentence: My son is dead, his name is Keqiang, he loves smooth currents. Miss, you are literate, you tell me. Master Gu, hasn't what I said during the day been clear enough? Without the permission of Inspector-General Lord, no one is allowed to touch this drum. You are just a craftsman hired by the imperial court, not an imperial envoy; the county yamen does not allow you to inspect, so you cannot inspect. Carrying out an imperial decree to inspect the drum, what qualifications does the local county yamen have to block it? Huh, who do you think you are? A maid dare to be arrogant in front of the county yamen? Drive them all away! Stop! What happened? The Anping official mine collapsed, hundreds of people perished, and the government only reported 23 missing, with no casualties. Who on earth are you? A clerk accompanying the Office of Good News, ordered to record all sights and sounds along the inspection of the drum. You dare to write random things? In the 15th year of the Sage Dynasty, the Anping County Yamen knew full well that Gu Shan was carrying out an imperial decree to inspect the drum, yet they obstructed him twice during the day and late at night. You dare to write random things? Didn't you refuse once during the day? That is the rule of the county yamen, so what I wrote is the truth. Get him, hand over Gu Zi! You dare to stop me? My father is the Chief Administrator of the Office of Good News.

Third rank, this humble person is blind and failed to recognize Mount Tai, please forgive me, Lord, ple. The first beat in 15 years for Anping County, and also the first sound in 15 years for this realm. Who told you to beat it? The Mingyuan drum is meant to be beaten by the common people. 15 years of peaceful days are all gone, my son is dead. I know, you know, there are hundreds of people in the mine, but the observation only lists 23, the other forest workers, outsiders, vagrants, they are not on the observation record. This is the first official urgent report we sent out. When it reached the prefecture, the remaining hundreds were embezzled. Finally, when it reached the center, it became like this. This official document did not go through him alone; all the clerks of the Office of Good News... the last sentence was written by me. Zhao Ning, don't change it for me this time. Why? Three years ago, this official mine was already reported as fully rectified; last year it was reported as safe without issue. To admit today that hundreds of people died in the mine is to admit that everyone has been deceiving the emperor, so is it right that there were ultimately no casualties? If I admit it...

From the prefectural Ministry of Works to the Office of Good News, hundreds or thousands of people will all have to be buried along with it. The most ruthless part of this system is not turning good people into monsters, but making everyone harmed by it, and forcing everyone to harm others for it. Should I save the dead, or save the living? I don't want you to save the dead, I just want you to admit that they died. Found, Keqiang, native of Hedong, age 17. June 4, died in the Anping official mine. Say it again, Keqiang was 17 years old, died in the mine pit collapse. Thank you, that document of zero casualties is what I wrote. I don't know, my father. Miss, the thing people fear most is not doing something wrong, but after harming someone, still being able to have a clear conscience. Isn't this good? Commoners willingly donate, government tax revenue surges, bad things turn good. When the emperor sees good news, the whole world is at ease. Then when I grow up I want to go there too. Go where? Go to the Office of Good News, there are no bad things there, and no one cries. If so-called peace requires silencing everyone's pain first, can this peace still be considered peace? Read it. There are hundreds of them, some only have nicknames. Then write down the nicknames. We have already written too many fake ones for them.

You actually don't need to accompany me. With one fewer name, there is one fewer person in this world. I just don't want you to be the only one who remembers them. Next, Jiahao. You often bring people here. What shouldn't be checked, I have checked; what shouldn't be left, I have left, so after a lifetime of work, I am still at the ninth rank. If you want to rise, you must first learn to look away. My whole life has been about not learning. The Xicheng granary records from eight years ago are all here. Where is my son? I checked the household register. He is not a local of this city; later his name was erased and he was reclassified as a vagrant. Then whose bones did I bury eight years ago? One person. Xu He, when you wrote a lie for the first time, were you afraid? Afraid. And now? Now, I am afraid of writing the truth. Don't look at me like that. Weren't you the same before? I at least thought I was right. That makes you even more terrifying than me. And what about now? Still think I am terrifying? What I am afraid of now is not that; I am afraid that once you know you are wrong, you won't even forgive yourself. Are you worried about me? I am just reasoning. When you spoke lies, you were much more natural than now.

When I was sixteen, my hometown suffered a great drought, and many people died. The county recorded it as a minor drought, the prefecture recorded it as a crop failure, and by the time it reached the capital, it was reduced to a single sentence: The people voluntarily cut off their food rations. Then why did you still join the Bureau of Glad Tidings? Because that year, the Bureau of Glad Tidings distributed food; the false paper gave me real rice. It cannot be done, Father Emperor, you spent twenty years' worth of funds and provisions in advance. Elder Brother, you once again traded the empire's commercial taxes, salt revenues, and land deeds for ten years of peace before our eyes. Now maritime trade is obstructed, tariffs are drastically reduced, and trade routes are being cut off one by one. The imperial court has no silver, so it investigates old taxes; when old taxes yield nothing, it issues fines. Yet what you still send up to the high walls is all about seas producing auspicious clouds, Your Majesty. Array the formation. Your minister is guilty. But in the second year of Your Majesty's ascension, the Huai River breached; officials who covered up the disaster were punished with thirty light cane strokes at best, and had their property confiscated at worst. By the third year, everyone had learned to write breaches as riverway widening. In the fourth year, it was Your Majesty who personally bestowed the three characters "Bureau of Glad Tidings." We ministers can alter official documents, but we cannot force Your Majesty to believe them. Your Majesty has believed it for fifteen years because Your Majesty also wished it to be true.

Therefore, I abdicate, to make way for someone who can still save the world. Is Your Majesty yielding the throne, or do you wish to hand this debt contract to the crown prince? The very first thing the new ruler does upon ascending the throne is inspect the national treasury, military provisions, and river dikes, giving people hope, but in the end, it is still the same. Before the new ruler has even secured the throne, the country is about to perish. Jurchens beyond the northern frontier, coastal Wokou pirates, peasant uprisings everywhere—you must pull yourselves together, rulers of a fallen state. I will not drink; the state cannot go a single day without a ruler. All one hundred and eight drums have been inspected, Lord Hui has inspected them, how many are broken? Not a single one. Excellent, not good. I have inspected the drum, and now I know, what was broken was never the drum. Tomorrow at the hour of Chen, the official transfer and escort of prisoners begins. The last four characters, you write them. You want me to write "fifteen years without a single injustice," but we both know it is not true. I did not ask you to believe it; I want you to survive. What if I refuse to write? The Grand Ceremony of Peace ends, hand over your token of rank, and return to the Divine Bureau. Father, you taught me how to write since I was a child, and now you want to teach me which characters I must write? I am teaching you how to survive. But if surviving means only writing words that you yourself do not believe.

Who authorized you to change them? Tomorrow is the ritual to heaven, and the characters "voicing grievances" are inauspicious. Once the name is changed, the drum is no longer that drum, Master Gu. The drum is still that drum. No need to test the sound, no need. Tomorrow is not about listening to the drums. Master Gu, let us go. An emperor of ten thousand nations comes to pay homage, and the Jurchens of Northern Jin do not have a single soul left; maritime cargo and goods repeatedly hit record highs, fifteen years of peace, and no grievances under heaven. Long live! The drum body is intact. By imperial decree, inspect the drum. The performance is over, what sound is that? Reporting to Your Majesty, the echoing drum rings of its own accord, which is an omen of a thriving national destiny. It has been changed again, the drum has only just sounded, and you have already learned why it sounded, seize him! Gushan, what grievances do you have? This commoner has no grievances. Do you know how many people your life will harm? Fifteen years without the sound of drums does not mean there are no grievances under heaven.

To govern the world without life, we beg Your Majesty to show mercy and spare Master Gu. We beg Your Majesty to show mercy and spare Master Gu. The Ministers of the Six Ministries. Gushanqing crying out in Grievance Valley is not an auspicious omen. The world has a voice, Ms. Shen, take that away. Who wrote this? It is me, I wrote it. But this is Ms. Shen's handwriting. The handwriting is hers, the painting is mine. She copied it for you without knowing what you were going to do, she did not know. What she said is the truth. I was right beneath the high platform, I saw with my own eyes Master Gu take it. Ms. Shen, not a single word here is false. Take them all away. I taught him to write it, he was merely the copyist. Eunuch, my daughter is young and misspoke; I shall take her back to the manor to discipline her personally. Lord Shen just heard it as well—I heard it, so this cannot simply be brushed aside as a slip of the tongue. Lord Shen may take his daughter back, but the matter must be recorded clearly. Secretary Xu He fabricated heterodox texts for the ceremony and induced the female scholar to copy them. Shen Zhaoning noticed and immediately reported it. I did not report it. Choose for yourself. Weren't you asking who wrote it? It has already been asked, and he has confessed.

You saw Master Gu beating the drum too; you have already stamped it once, and now you want me to write it? Don't make him stand out in vain. The eunuch told you to copy it; this is a confession sent to send you to prison. Write. Keep writing. Shen Zhaoning noticed and reported it immediately. Add another sentence: everything Xu He said was fabricated. Do you confess? I confess. My draft. Take him away? Aren't you going back to the divine mansion? You, I still have one more thing to finish recording. Stop looking, the door won't open by itself. How long have you been locked up? More than two years. What crime did you commit? The Emperor thought I was faking illness and refusing to fight. And you? The Emperor thinks the world is at peace, but I wrote that it is not. Then you are in more serious trouble than me. What is your title, sir? Sun Tingting. I copied the general's victory report; that piece of paper wasn't actually written by me, I took the blame for someone else. He is going home tomorrow, drink some water first.

It was you who caused trouble at the grand ceremony a few days ago. Instead of living a peaceful life, you insisted on working for the Jurchen women. Behead him! Eating the imperial court's grain, smashing the imperial court's pot. Today, after beheading this traitor, I will donate a bag of rice to reward the army. Former General Gu Shan used the pretext of inspecting the drums by imperial decree to investigate the strength of the soldiers and civilians along the Lu River. His son Gu Zhou went beyond the frontier years ago to surrender to the Jurchen; father and son colluded internally and externally, setting the seventh drumbeat of the grand ceremony as a signal to incite a popular revolt. My son is dead. Most importantly, Xu He confessed to being instigated by them to fabricate heretical theories. Xu He, my son died eight years ago. He died in the West City granary because he helped the imperial court provide disaster relief. The disaster relief in West City resulted in no casualties, and the observations from that year can still be checked today. I have seen the original archives, and Gu Zhou's name is there. I also collected disaster relief grain in West City. The imperial court saved your life, yet you made up a dead person to harm the imperial court. Heaven saved you, but Gu Zhou really died there—who are you then? Xu He is still inside. The noon hour has arrived, my son's name is Gu Zhao, hurry up and behead him! He died in the West City beam. Go quickly. Don't look back!

Why on earth did you call me to the side room? It's nothing, this is nothing. Did you cry? Your eyes are all swollen. Why do you care if my eyes are swollen or not? Do you know? I thought, I thought I was gone too. Today I already, I don't want to lose another one, Zhaoning. I am still here. Can you walk? Yes, Father got him out. What is this? After leaving the city, do not take the official road; forty miles south there is a ferry crossing, and before dawn there is a grain boat, I have already arranged it. Father wants us to leave—not want to, but leave right now. And what about Father? I am staying. You got a criminal from the Ministry of Punishments out, how can you stay? That is my business. What do you mean by your business? Because I am your father. Father taught you how to write in this life, taught you what can be written and what cannot be written, only to find out in the end that I didn't teach you how to live a good life at all.

Father, your mother left early, and I never took a concubine. I always thought that if my official rank was a little higher, you could live a little better. Later the official rank was big, but I didn't even know when you started to fear me. I didn't fear you. You did; previously when you suffered grievances, you would run to find Father. Later, every time you entered the study, you would first call out 'Father.' I thought you had grown up then, but thinking about it now, it was me who pushed you away. Then Father, come with us, don't want the official position anymore, don't want it. Don't want it; someone has to stay so the rest of you can get away. Xu He, sir, do you like my daughter? I like her, very much. Then take her with you, go out through the south gate, and don't take the official road. Once out of the capital, don't use your original name anymore. Wait, what is it? What time is it now? Passing through the checkpoint at the Hour of Hai is not allowed. Why? Tomorrow morning at the Hour of Mao, the Reporting Office has to clear out old archives; they clear archives every year. This time it's not filing away, the original urgent local first drafts will all be burned tomorrow morning. Those papers can't save the dead, but once the papers are burned, future generations will only see what we wrote out. The river embankment didn't burst, it was widened; the commoners didn't flee from famine, they migrated south. It will be as if they never lived at all.

Father, previously beside every fake thing there was at least a true one, but if the true ones are burned too, the fake ones will truly become real. The carriage is outside, go out now and you can live. Is it worth risking your life again for a few boxes of paper? I want to leave, truly, I don't want you to die. I even thought about finding a place where no one knows us after leaving the capital. What can you do besides singing songs of praise and ascending to the clouds? I don't know, maybe starve to death. Father, I can't help them forget those people anymore. I don't care about you doing anything right, nor do I care how people a hundred years from now will write about today. Right now I just want my daughter to live, go! The last two loads, hurry up! Those who stay tonight, I am not tricking you. If the Jinyiwei enter this door, none of us will likely survive. Those who want to leave now, the back door is still open. Master, we have been in the Shen family for generations; if you don't leave, where can we go? Every extra moment Zhaoning has, she gets further away. Open the door! Everyone, today we are not guarding the door for the Shen family, we are fighting a path to survive for our descendants.

I dropped it, but it was clearly not finished burning at the hour of the rabbit (5-7 AM). It's on you, go. We can't take the whole archive, take this. I knew you were coming half an hour ago. At least let those behind us know that some things didn't just not happen; they were written out of existence. Go. What about you? I'll hold the door for you, go quickly. Don't worry about me, guard the door, take Shen Weijin. Lord Shen, why bother? I don't know either, perhaps just as a father. Old Zhou. Lord Shen gave instructions that we must get you across the river before dawn. Xu He, my father is still inside. He has only known how to read and write his whole life, he can't even hold a blade steady, how can he stop the Jinyiwei? No, I have to go back and find my father. Zhaoning, your father risked his life just to keep you alive. But he is my father! I was scolding him just yesterday, I said he only knew how to please the Emperor, I didn't even get to say a proper sorry to him. Your father knows. Get on the boat! If we are any later, we won't be able to leave. It's snagged. Wife, hold on, I'll push. Stop! Hand over the memorial. Xu He, get on quickly! It's okay, it's okay, they can't catch up to us now.

Yesterday, your father asked me if I liked you. I know, I know it all. I really, really wanted to spend my whole life with you. Then let's spend it together! Didn't you say we would go to the south and find a place where no one knows us? You also said we might not know how to do anything and would starve to death. We can starve together! You must live well, let your father know I didn't choose the wrong person, don't leave me behind too. Zhao Ning, those people cannot have died in vain. Answer me! Stop making a scene! Aren't you the one who likes to tease me until I'm angry the most? I'm really angry now! Won't you get up? Miss, the hull has been hit, it can no longer support this much weight. Let him go, otherwise neither of us will survive today. No. Miss, my father is dead, Xu He is dead, why do I still have to live? Master, your book has finally reached the capital, the imperial court even reprinted it, saying they want all the people in the world to be able to read it. Good, those who were forgotten finally have names.

Master, what's wrong with you? I spent my whole life writing the truth, but they, on the other hand, used my name to tell their lies. Then haven't we wasted these decades? Silly child, is history really that easy to change? Otherwise, why would we have risked our lives back then? Master, someone is beating the grievance drum! Audacious commoner! We are in a time of peace and prosperity, where could there be any grievances? Guards, take him down! Master, is this what peace is? In the fourth month of the sixteenth year of Chongzhen, a commoner beat the drum to seek justice. Master, are you going to keep writing? Of course, otherwise, decades from now, someone will say that no one ever beat the drum today.