Gen Z performers from the Chinese mainland, Hong Kong, Macao, and Taiwan create a stage play, Confession of Youth, during the latest episode of Youth Power. [Photo by Dong Ming/For China Daily]

Spread a map of China on the table and one detail stands out: Shanxi and Taiwan share a striking resemblance in shape — long, slightly curved, tapering at one end, as if leaning toward each other.

That quiet likeness feels like a reminder that the two are connected beyond geography.

Shanxi, with its rugged mountains and rivers, has long borne witness to the shared history during the Chinese People's War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression (1931-45). Stories of sacrifice and resilience echo across the Taiwan Strait, linking the mainland and the island in memory.

Li Min, a 104-year-old veteran in Shanxi, carries those memories in his voice. We met with him on our trip to Shanxi while filming a recent episode of Youth Power.

When he heard that I was from Taiwan and Yip Suet-ying, another student in our group, was from Hong Kong, his face lit up with pride. "Taiwan and Hong Kong are both good places in China," he said with a smile.

For us, born long after the war, that era feels distant and almost unimaginable. But Li's stories brought it vividly to life. He described treating the wounded at the front, where every move had to be swift — because even a moment's hesitation could draw enemy fire. It was a race against bullets and against time.

Wang Licheng, a student from Shanghai, told Li he would soon begin two years of military service. The old soldier clasped the young man's hand and spoke firmly: "Serving in the army is good."

In that moment, I felt I was witnessing a quiet but powerful continuity — a torch being passed from one generation to the next. Here, across decades, stood two university-aged men: one who had once faced the enemy under fire, and the other preparing to serve in our time of peace. Different eras, the same commitment.

Before leaving, I gave Li a peace talisman from Longshan Temple in Taipei, still carrying the faint scent of incense. It was a small token, and a quiet promise that shared history can bridge any distance.

Gen Zers sit with Li Min (first from left), a 104-year-old veteran from Shanxi who fought in the Chinese People's War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression (1931-45). [Photo by Dong Ming/For China Daily]

Living memories

At the Taihang Memorial Museum of the Eighth Route Army in Wuxiang county, relics of war told their own stories. Among them was a single bugle resting in a glass case — not just an instrument, but a vow: teenagers younger than 16 once played it, knowing hundreds of calls, but one — the call to retreat. That silence said more than any sound — it was a pledge to fight to the last drop of blood for the nation's dignity.

The exhibits spoke without words. Faces, names, and memories filled the hall. Listening to these stories, my eyes grew wet. I felt grateful to have made this trip, to see these memories preserved, and to watch visitors — young and old — come on their own to remember.

Across the Strait, however, memory is not always carved in stone. Too often it is written in sand, washed over by politics. In Taiwan, many are told it was Japan that brought modernization through railways and irrigation, while the massacres and humiliation inflicted by Japanese troops are brushed aside.

History cannot live in textbooks alone. It must be made tangible — through memorial halls, stage plays, documentaries, and even digital exhibitions. Only then can young people truly feel the courage and sacrifice of those who came before and carry their lessons forward.

Zheng Yaling, a Taiwan student. [Photo provided to China Daily]

That belief inspired us to create the stage play Confession of Youth. Together, Gen Z performers from the Chinese mainland, Hong Kong, Macao, and Taiwan reenacted stories of resistance. With a single drumbeat, we acted side by side, embodying loss and courage.

It was more than theater — it was a living memorial, a bridge connecting young hearts with history too often overlooked.

Standing on Shanxi's former battlefields, I felt history not only as memory, but as presence. Each site — the memorial hall, the battle positions, and the mountain passes — was like a bead on a thread, strung together by courage and sacrifice.

Taiwan was never absent from this history. For our generation, engaging with these stories is not just remembrance — it is a responsibility. It ensures that the spirit of unity and resilience continues to guide our shared future.