Can you write a short but concise summary of the following excerpt? It must be 45 word or less:

"From: The World At War: From The Pages of The Discerner VOLUME I: THE GATHERING STORM (1981):

Zhongyou Square, Hanjing, Feng China
February 17th 1897

Cheung Amoy smoothed her keipo dress to her side as, puffing and panting, she locked her dan-ce to the nearest gaslight—just below the official-looking sign telling her in five languages that locking celeripedes to the post was strictly forbidden. Any denizen of the capital of the Chinese Empire soon learned which laws would actually be enforced and which were as theoretical as any claim by Little Weili in Beijing to rule All-Under-Heaven. Her only concern was that some enterprising citizen with a pair of wire-cutters might claim the dan-ce for himself.

She looked around the crowd gathered in the square before the temple, held back by policemen who looked as though they were rather more keen to enforce the parade route than those celeripede laws. Despite this, there was a sense of informality to the proceedings. It was Fifteenth Night, the Lantern Festival, the end of the New Year celebrations. The flower displays which Hanjing had always been known for might now be wilting slightly, but that was more than made up for by the great lanterns which dazzled the darkling shapes of the temple and the other great buildings as the sun set. The artisans seemed to discover ways of making new colours every year, as dyes multiplied. Hanjing by night might as well be lit by rainbows. Amoy thought of the Christian story of Yuesefu and his coat of many colours, which a popular composer had recently penned an opera about (suitably relocating the action to China in the Three Kingdoms period, of course).

It was certainly a diverse crowd, not that that was anything unusual in the capital city of China. Men and women of all ages—but with a certain absence of younger men in between the boys and grandfathers—packed the square. There were Han Chinese, of course, but beside that majority there were Haccahans and Tai and other Chinese minorities, plus the ever-present Europeans visiting from Whampoa Island or the Outsiders’ Villages (whose segregation these days was more ceremonial than many would like) and the Gwayese half-bloods. Amoy avoided looking at that group, as she usually did. She had always been a bit suspicious that one of her grandmothers had not been entirely truthful about the man she married.

She heard a few disparaging murmurs behind her back as she grabbed a prime viewing position. And for what reason? she thought, tucking a strand of hair behind one ear. Let me list them. Walking the streets without a chaperone? Riding a dan-ce? Disobeying the sign? Taking this place? My hair, my makeup? My keipo? Strictly speaking, a keipo was derived from Manchu garments, which older people (especially women) had rejected in the heady Days of the Rising Phoenix. Amoy’s generation didn’t care, they just thought it looked fun to wear. Who in or under heaven thought Little Weili and the Manchus were worth caring about, anyway?

Amoy’s attention was drawn back to the square as a familiar figure appeared before the temple. Governor Ng Chiu was dressed in full ceremonial robes. Great metallic drums, decorated with the fiery figure of a cockerel, celebrated the new year’s zodiac sign and incidentally also served to amplify the Governor’s words. Not even the cleverest of the western barbarians had managed to come up with a better way to do that. The Governor began with the usual ceremonial forms, to which the crowd responded by showing obeisance to the Xuanming Emperor. Amoy did so with more sincerity than her usual casual, carefree manner would suggest. No matter what those glaring old women behind her might think of her, she felt a strong loyalty to the man who had been the Son of Heaven for thirty years, longer than she had been alive. Today China was strong and self-confident, and she had enough horror stories from her grandparents to know things had not always been so. Xuanming had shouldered the Mandate of Heaven well.

Finally Governor Ng got to the important part. “And now, for Fifteenth Night, His Imperial Majesty, the Son of Heaven, the Lord of Ten Thousand Years, has granted a boon to his loyal subjects.” He said this impressively, as though the crowd didn’t already know what was about to happen. “His Imperial Majesty’s brave soldiers have drawn lots, and the lucky one in ten have returned home to their wives and sweethearts!” May they never meet, Amoy thought, remembering a toast that a drunken British sailor had once told her. She tried very hard to suppress a smile.

The crowd applauded and cheered as the soldiers marched into the square. A casual glance would show they performed the manoeuvre perfectly. Only one who had seen many such marches in peacetime would be able to spot the very tiny hesitations and missteps, the result of men having to adapt to marching with unfamiliar comrades beside them, hastily filling gaps which had been torn in their ranks by Siamese cingular guns.

That thought could never be far from Amoy’s mind as she anxiously scanned the columns, hoping against hope. It was such a vanishing chance, only one in ten men had been picked, even without…the other possibility…but…she prayed, and she wasn’t even certain whom she prayed to.

When her vision cleared, he was there.

She acted before she could think. All cool, sultry demeanour gone, she let out a joyous squeal and lunged into the column of marching men. “Caajisi!”

Charles Grey turned and grinned, managing to spread his arms just in time for Amoy to envelop him in hers. She wrapped her legs about his knees as well as though some force would tear him away. “Amy!” he said, somewhat muffled as she sobbed into his shoulder.

It was only now that Amoy’s usually keen mind caught up with what had been practically a reflex action and the realisation of consequences hit her like a dam breaking. Fortunately, she had been far from the only young woman in the crowd to have the same idea. The army column, which would probably have held up firmly in the face of a Siamese attack, had dissolved into a confused mess when hit by the subtler tactics of wives and girlfriends. The policemen were mostly smirking rather than scowling at this.

Governor Ng was an astute enough politician to know when not to push his luck. He cleared his throat. “Yes, as I said, go and greet our brave conquering heroes!” He irritably waved at an underling, who in turn delegated a message to someone else, and a few seconds later some of the great lanterns suspended from the gaslights rather anticlimactically opened up and scattered lotus blossoms over the soldiers and the crowd.

Among the blossoms were scraps of red paper, one of which Charles snatched out of the air. It was a minimalistic interpretation of the red envelopes containing money which were exchanged for good luck. He opened it up and showed it to Amoy. “See this, Amy? Not real money, but a voucher for a free romantic dinner at the restaurant of our choice…” He grinned. “Shame we’re a bit late for Valentine’s Day.”

“You barbarians and your customs!” Amoy said without rancour. “Don’t you know this is Fifteenth Night? This is the true day for love! Even if I couldn’t find an orange to give you.”

“Rationing,” Charles shrugged. “At least there’s enough powder left for those.” He pointed at a barrage of firework rockets which exploded into a constellation of red stars as he did. He shuddered slightly and a shadow crossed his face. “I don’t think I can take fireworks for a while, Amy. The things we saw at the front…”

“Then I’ll have to help you forget them,” Amoy said winsomely, reaching up to tickle his moustache. “Let’s find that restaurant. And then I’ll tell you my latest plan to win you back your ancestral house and lands.”

Charles laughed out loud and, as Amoy had hoped, his black mood evaporated. “As I keep telling you, Amy, I don’t think I’m getting Howick Hall back from the government anytime soon! That’s why my father came out here in the first place!”

“You shut up, unambitious Yinguoren,” Amoy said, waving her finger in a manner which (as she would have been mortified to discover) was uncomfortably close to that of her mother. “When I am Lady of the Manor and you can show me that swimming pool carved from the rock your father was always talking about, then you can open your mouth and admit you were wrong.”

Charles grinned. “I’ll drink to that.”

He swept her off her feet.

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