Respectfully to Your Majesty the Great Emperor,
Your Majesty’s vassal, whom Your Majesty sent out three lunar cycles ago to carry out Our Emperor’s most recent command, is writing this report to inform Your Majesty of the acquisition of the desired object. It meets many, if not all, of the requirements stated in Your Majesty’s request, but of course nothing can be set until Your Majesty has seen and approved the adequacy of the acquired article.
Your vassal will be returning to the Imperial City tonight and is due to arrive back by the Summer Solstice. Any further developments will be reported as such.
Jìng shàng (I deferentially submit to Your Majesty).
Your Vassal,
Fàn Lí

 
Dear Gou Jian,
By the gods above, I hope that letter was stuff enough to satisfy your advisors. I nearly broke my mind (and more importantly my pen) trying to get that monster out. You know very well of my stance about all these formal conventions. One day, I will be done in by them and you will ban stupid formal letters in my honour.
But seriously, I hope you’re doing well and no one has decided to kill you again. That recent assassination was a rather freaky one (remember who saved you? Because I certainly do), and it would make my life a lot easier – I’d sleep better at night for one thing – if these barbarians from the north would stop trying (and failing, mind) to stick some sort of poisoned knife in your back! I know what’s on your mind, as it always is, but you should seriously try to let go a little. Relax sometimes. Honestly, you really should have caved in to my excellent suggestions that you and I swap places for a while and you go on this trip over the whole country to search for an unknown object of grave, unknown power (really, I think you need to find yourself a new seer, as soon as possible please before I get sent on another one of these pointless missions).
So much for not going off on a tangent, but anyway, I do hope you’re not reading this letter rather than finding a way to get back at that Wu bastard. Being the perfect hypocrite right there, telling you to relax and stop thinking about that and still suggesting you take full charge and run headlong into their forces. Alright, before I completely lose it, stuck out here in this shack of a hotel, I wanted to tell you that a miracle has occurred. This pointless mission may not have been that pointless! Can you believe it? I was just travelling through the most remote of remote areas when I stumbled on a rumour going around the smallest of tiny villages about daughter of the goddess living in the Shaolin temple up the conveniently too-steep-to-climb mountain. Luckily for you, your cousin is a sprightly fellow and perfectly willing to risk his life climbing this unclimbable mountain for his emperor.
I will report back with findings if I return at all. The very cold rice bowl constantly drawing my eyes has snared my incredible mind indefinitely.
Good luck ruling the kingdom.
Don’t break anything.
Fàn Lí

 
History of China
Chapter Two – The Slave Society
第二章 - 奴隶社会

The Slave Society of ancient China far predates the ages commonly associated with the country. It is split into three dynasties:
The Xia ‘夏’ Dynasty
The Shang ‘商’ Dynasty
The Zhou ‘周’ Dynasty
All of this occurred before China was united into the country recognisable today.
The Zhou Dynasty
The Zhou Dynasty was split into two distinct periods: The West Zhou (with the capital in Xian) and The Eastern Zhou (capital in Luoyang). During the Eastern Zhou Period, the emperor had very little power or control over China; the lords under him were far more powerful, often with armies far greater than their ruler’s. The Eastern Zhou is then split into another two periods: The Spring and Autumn Period (770 - 476 BC) and The Warring States Period (476 – 221 BC).
The Spring and Autumn Period was the golden age of Chinese culture and discovery, being a time of great philosophy and art. Confucius many other Chinese greats were from this time. China had been split into around 30 smaller countries and boundaries were not as distinguished so travelling was popular as was the spreading of knowledge and ideas.
The most powerful kings of the time were the ‘Five Hegemons - 春秋五霸 chūnquīwǔbà’:
Qi ‘齐’

Song ‘宋’
Jin ‘晋’
Qin ‘秦’
Chu ‘楚’
But there were also many smaller countries, two of which were the Wu and Yue kingdoms, now situated in the Jiangsu and Zhejiang provinces of China. The tale of the bloody battles between their kings is a much told tale. The Wu kingdom beat the Yue kingdom in battle and Fu Chai (king of Wu) takes Gou Jian (king of Yue) as his slave. He is released after many years of displaying consistently faithful behaviour to Fu Chai which helped to convince king of his honesty and loyalty. One particular source states that:
“And the king has been taken ill. None of the physicians can decide the cause of infection. The King’s Slave tasted the faeces for abnormalities but found none. There is nothing that can be done but pray.”
Gou Jian later vows revenge on his captor and many years later, the kingdom of Wu fell at his hands. The exact events that led to Wu’s destruction are unclear, with many facets of the story told and retold in Chinese folklore. There is no concrete evidence to support the more fantastical stories, though places and people are grounded in historical text (carved onto tortoise shells and stone).
The Warring States Period started when the smaller countries had all been conquered to form seven larger countries, that then continues to fight until only the Qin Kingdom remained and that became the ‘modern China’ with Qin Shi Huang (秦始皇) as its emperor. This was the start of the Qin Dynasty and the Autocratic Rule that lasted another two millennia.
 
To:
The Commander General Fan Li, Royal Lord of the Great Emperor,
The report has been received and approved.
Despite the disparaging lag in your completion of this simple task, the mission will be marked as a success if you do ever deign to return to the capital. Perhaps, you prefer the simple joys of the countryside, after all it has always been said that you were far better suited to manual labour than you are to intellectual tasks. If so, then you are welcome to live your life in the mud that you seem so fond of.
There have been few happenings of interest in the Royal Palace. You will be beside yourself with ecstatic joy when you find out that we are not dead, still perfectly alive and in excellent condition to behead you if you step out of line again. Formal reports are a given and always will be. You cannot be omitted from the bracket that covers everyone else – excluding myself of course.
Bring it back, safe and undamaged. Your own condition is none of my concern.
 
The Imperial Majesty, Emperor of the Great Yue Kingdom, sole principal of the Royal Treasury, governed by Yi Shu, Royal Treasurer, is bestowing:
400 golden Yuán Bǎo
1000 silver Yuán Bǎo
2000 copper coins
90 Yue war steeds
300 sheets of silk
4000 dried plums
30 bottles Xing Hai white rice wine
50 young slaves
3 cooks
4 seamstresses
1 set of Huang Lian fine bone china, edged in blue
3 pure white jade headstones
20 white jade bangles
5 Southern white jade lion stands
2 silver flutes
20 Lian Dan – Pills of Immortality
To the His Imperial Majesty, Emperor of the Great Wu Kingdom, son of Fu Wang – Conqueror of the West;
As an annual gift in honour of His Imperial Majesty’s wealth and status.
His Imperial Majesty, Emperor of the Great Yue Kingdom, is forever your faithful servant.







Received by Wu
Dear Journal,
Today has been the most interesting day. A man came to the temple last night and woke us all up with his infernal knocking. Poor Aunt Feng was on door duty so had to go and answer (that’s the problem with living in a temple, you must be kind, giving and self-sacrificing all the time – it’s hard to be grateful that early in the morning). Apparently, she found a man standing there, barely alive and dressed in the colours of the king. He told her that he was looking for the daughter of a goddess. I’m sure she had a right old laugh inside, but being the darling she is, took him in for tea. He must have needed it, having just climbed up the Unclimbable Mountain. I’m told, by a delightfully enthusiastic aunt, that he fell down as soon as he stepped over the threshold, “must’ve almost killed himself getting up here all by himself,” she said.
We were huddled together all that night, barely five metres always from his sleeping body, whispering furiously and gossiping like old wives. We had the most charming time, fabricating stories for this man. Aunt Ling was convinced that he was a spy from the upper lands, and the colours he was wearing were an astonishingly daring (but mostly just stupid) attempt to provide a cover. Aunt Feng, the only one to have actually talked to him, proclaimed that he was a wondering hero, gifted and blessed by the gods, spreading his light across the land and helping all those he meets on his travels. That had been met with two raised eyebrows, but she could not be swayed against it. Honestly, last night, in the dim light of a barely there moon, I couldn’t decipher him at all. Nothing clear could be seen of his features, and I definitely did not know anything of his character. But I quietly dreamed that he was the emperor in disguise, come to whisk me away to his golden palace where I wouldn’t have to work again.
It was a wonderful dream but would never come true of course. Well, I was convinced of this fact, until this afternoon.
Morning had been normal. Washing clothes followed by sweeping all the corridors, and then assisting Aunt Ling with lunch. I had more chores this morning as Aunt Feng had been unfortunately relegated with the gargantuan task of taking care of the sick man. I did not complain. Or argue. Of course not. Lunch was not the best (Aunt Ling is not the most amazing cook), and by the time I had finished drying the dishes, there was another pile of silk for me to clean.
The river was particularly beautiful this afternoon. The sun was out, small birds were chirping, the blossoms above me gently dropping delicate petals onto sparkling water. But a chore is still a chore, no matter the background, so I reverted to singing to pass the time.
“You have a lovely voice.”
I was very nearly scared to death. I came this far from falling into the river. It wasn’t a voice I recognised, and when I turned around, it wasn’t a face I recognised either. He was tall, even leaning against the dark bark of the cherry tree he was more than a head taller than me. His strong features clashed with his pale skin. When he moved closer, I could see that there had been no weathering to his face, no calluses on his fingers. He was born a warrior, but raised a scholar.
He’d changed out of his clothes and was now dressed in a simple monks robe. He smelt distinctly of Aunt Feng’s secret ingredient soap. Neither of us moved. The water from the silk ran straight down my wide sleeves, soaking everything up to my armpits – not the most sophisticated look. But he merely smiled peculiarly – as if his thoughts were far away – and said in a clipped, noble way, each sound enunciated with the greatest care,
“Will you come with me? Will you come and meet your Emperor?”
He’s joking. I’m sure he is. But we talked for hours that afternoon and he told me all about who his was and his mission to find the most beautiful girl in all of China. I didn’t know what to say. He had chosen me, so I was flattered, but doubt clung over everything. Why should I trust him? He could be anybody. And yet for some reason, I think he’s telling the truth.
I think my dream has come true.
西施
Xī Shī
 
Extract from an autobiography of historical poet Liu Bei, who at the time was being fostered by Lord Zhang. It details the arrival of Xi Shi into the Emperor’s court.
I had been in our Great Emperor’s for three years when Xi Shi arrived for the first time before our eyes. We had been herded into the courtyard, thousands of us lining the paved pathway leading to His Majesty. There had been an agitated buzz in the air. Nothing like this had happened for almost a decade, when our ruler returned to us in the same way. The summer air was dense and muggy; it clung to my new silk robes, ruining the fine shine. I was sweating most unattractively.
We just stood there, thousands of us packed into the courtyard, waiting for something to happen. None of us knew what to expect, and, if it wasn’t treason, I would say that even the Emperor was full of anticipation. It was nearing dusk when they arrived. The people crowded near the gate were stunned silent and motionless. Everyone else immediately began to push forward, jostling at each other, desperate to see the cause of such a strange reaction. I received no less than five elbows to various parts of my anatomy.
Wanting to portray myself as the learned scholar I was training to be, I remained where I was, standing next to my foster father on the lowest step of the Grand Staircase. Inwardly, I was fidgeting like a child about to be handed the country’s largest bag of sweetmeats. I could barely restrain myself from charging forward into the rushing crowd. But one well-placed glare from Lord Zhang was all that was needed to keep me rooted to the spot like his deferential son should. But it was a close thing.
And then a pair of slight figures broke through the crowd, hustled forwards by heavily armed, blue-cloaked guards. The whip-cord thin, towering figure of the Emperor’s right-hand man was instantly recognisable. Lord Fan Li is an incredible man, clever ahead of his time, wise beyond his years and yet remarkably friendly. He usually carried an impenetrable aura of command where ever he went, drawing attention from all eyes – wandering or not. But at that moment, he was utterly eclipsed by the woman standing next to him.
Her beauty cannot be described. I may preach myself to be a wondrous poet, and others have waxed my praises, but even I cannot find the words to capture her brilliance. It would shame her to compare her to anything on this planet. As the golden setting sun clung to her wavy hair, a hush of reverence descended on the courtyard. Not a breath passed frozen lips. It was Lord Fan Li who spoke first.
“I have brought you what you commanded, Your Majesty. Is she suitable?”
None dared turn their eyes onto the Emperor but all waited with baited breath for His Majesty’s reply.
“Yes.”
And that was that. None of us know her purpose, excluding His Majesty and perhaps Lord Fan Li. But if she is to be made his newest wife, the others, especially First Wife Gui Fei, has reason to worry.
 
Transcript of a conversation between Gui Fei, the Emperor’s first wife, and Lü Yien, the Emperor’s second wife. Dinner is the dwindling stages, the room is mostly empty.
Lü Yien: I cannot believe the gall of that girl. She thinks she can just walk into the palace, flash that shy, country-girl smile and have everyone fall at her feet. It’s despicable. I can’t stand it. She, a fresh-faced, uneducated, unrefined cretin, is outshining all of us, the ones that have been loyal to our Emperor for years, even through that period of slavery, when we thought all hope was lost. How could this have happened?
Long pause. Gui Fei picks delicately at a small bowl of freshly picked mountain berries.
Lü Yien: Answer me sister!
Gui Fei: She is beautiful. More beautiful than us. No other explanation is needed.
Lü Yien: But surely His Majesty will value other things? Intelligence? He is a strategist and warrior first and foremost.
Gui Fei: And all men value the face and body of women first and foremost.
Another long pause. Gui Fei sips her tea slowly. She dabs at the corner of her lips with a nearby silk handkerchief.
Lü Yien: You may be right, sister. But that doesn’t explain Lord Fan Li at all. He’s most certainly a man who values intelligence, wit and cunning above all else. And yet he spends all his spare time with her. I saw them the other day. He was teaching her the basic rules of fine dining. Can you believe it? She doesn’t even know how to place chopsticks on the table without causing grave offense. Even the lowliest of slaves would know that. And she is not able to. Is she a simpleton? I’ve even heard rumours from my serving girls that he’s sleeping with her. Perhaps she has demonic powers, able to bend others to her will? By the gods, can you bear to imagine such sacrilege?
Gui Fei: Lord Fan Li is acting under the orders of our Emperor. We must not question His Majesty’s decisions.
Lü Yien leans forwards, lowering her voice. Her lose hair brushes against Gui Fei’s pale fingers.
Lü Yien: But how can I not? How can I not wonder if His Majesty is not losing his mind with lust for her?
Gui Fei: Watch your mouth Lü Yien. We may be sisters but my loyalty is to my Emperor and him alone.
Lü Yien retreats suddenly. Her eyes flash in guilt and worry.
Lü Yien: Sister, you know I spoke out of mind. I was just angry.
Gui Fei: I know. And I will not report you. I must admit that she has been getting under my skin lately as well.
Lü Yien: Good. Good. What are we going to do then?
Gui Fei: We are doing nothing. I have seen what will come and Xi Shi will fall down as far as she has risen.
Lü Yien: Are you sure, sister?
Gui Fei: We need not do anything. She will bring everything on herself.
 
I do not know why I am writing this. I feel as though I am betraying something deep within me, for I am not sitting at my desk, surrounded by incomplete paperwork, writing a journal entry. The world is collapsing down around me. Fan Li will not let me hear the end of this if he ever finds out.
But that is what has been bothering me recently. Fan Li and Xi Shi. They are now one and the same. One will always be accompanied by the other. I had come up with the most brilliant plan to secure my position as King of Wu almost a whole year ago, and had sent out my most trusted confident to carry out my commands. Everything was kept extremely secretive. I did not inform any of my retainers or advisors of this plan. I could not let anyone know.
Then Fan Li brought back her. She is the most beautiful thing this side of death but, for some reason, she unsettles me. I constantly worry now that she is in the palace. He now spends all of his time with her. I guess that may be my fault, seeing as I was the one who tasked him with teaching her the rules of polite society. But, sometimes, when I watch them, I see his fingers dance too close, eyes linger too long, her lashes flutter more than is required, and her curiously light eyes glisten with a strange beguiling light. Sometimes, when they do not know I am there, I hear their caressing whispers, intimate giggles shared behind cupped hands, interlocked fingers tickling each other’s palms. All the time, I see them together, walking, sitting, and eating just far enough from each other to not overstep the boundaries set by Fan Li’s station.
I suppose their actions towards each other are born of love. It should be sweet and warming to watch. Two lovers enveloped in the heady joy of each other. But it sickens me. It sickens me to the core. Yet I cannot do anything about it. I am the Emperor. Everything from the flowers to my people are at my beck and call, everything on this earth is under my command. But I cannot control the one thing I desire to change. For I have ordained it to occur. I have led this to happen like the gods lead us as their puppets in life. The only person who can control me is myself, and I appear to have been outsmarted.
Everything came to head today. She left. She’s gone. Most likely forever. I sent her as a gift to Fu Chai, Emperor of Wu. It was not a ploy to get rid of her, merely a tactical move for my country’s benefit. I was the only witness of their goodbye. She ran to his open arms as soon as she stepped through the doors. They flung their arms around each other, and sobbed promises to one another as she buried her head in the crook of his neck. She was balanced on her tiptoes. They completely ignored me – their Emperor. Under any other circumstances I would have their heads for ignoring me; under that circumstance, they should both have been executed. But I refrained.
Neither could control their tears, and neither would let go. I just stood there, in contemplative silence. She could not speak through her choked cries but I could hear him murmur empty assurances into her gossamer hair.
“For king and country.”
She finally raised her face. Despite the tearstains, and the red rimmed eyes, the miles of hair that stuck to her reddened cheeks, she was still disgustingly beautiful. It twisted my stomach. She caught my frown and gave a smile – it was barely the slightest twitch of small, red lips, and yet it spoke of unfathomable innocence. I almost wanted to forgive her.
“For king and country.”
And then the servants took her away. There was a carriage waiting for her at one of the back entrances, stocked up for the month long journey. We were left in silence. Fan Li left without casting another glance at me. He hates me now. He hates me for taking away the only thing he’s ever loved more than Yue. He hates that she’s been given away to a sound bastard by the only person he had been willing to call a friend. I know that he’d always held the slightest glimpse of hope for the two of them. Every moment I witnessed, he knew I was there. He knows I saw them, saw and felt their love. So he cannot understand why I could not offer him one mercy.
I was kept as an imperial slave for ten years. It was hard. I had never been so humiliated before or since. It had ripped away all of the youthful pride I’d had. However his hate and these events have hurt me much more. Now, I am constantly consumed by the need for revenge. On Wu and on her.
I am the Emperor. And I will always be strong for my people and my country. But I don’t know whether I can be strong for myself. 
Dearest Fan Li,
I have written this letter in the code you taught me. You must have already worked that out if you’re reading this right now. I’m sorry I’m being so silly, I just miss you so much.
Wu is very different to Yue. It’s beautiful and cultured. The gardens are stunning and all the buildings works of art. The people are refined and all the women have been so sweet to me since my arrival. It’s not my home, but one day, I’m sure it could be. Have you ever been to the Imperial Wu Palace, Fan Li? Because it is the most stunning thing I have ever seen. It’s so big as well! The entire complex spans the size of our whole capital. My rooms are as big as the Courtyard. Can you imagine it? I wonder how long it takes to clean.
Fu Chai is strange. I don’t think I need to describe him to you but I’ve never felt so out of place as I am by his side. He doesn’t scare me though. He’s clever but not the most observant. It’s his Imperial Minister that I’m worried about. His dark eyes really bother me; they’re curious – far too intrusive. I keep getting this feeling that he knows I’m here to spy on him for you and the Emperor. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t think you’re a threat at all. By keeping me, not reporting me on sight for espionage, he’s just laughing at you, mocking you. He terrifies me. I know that as soon as he thinks I’ve gone too far, he’ll execute me, whether his Emperor wants it or not.
I’ve attached a sheaf of copied documents for you. I managed to sneak them out when he was out greeting citizens. I hope they’re useful.
Eternally devoted to you,
Xi Shi
 
Dearest Fan Li,
I’ve attached copies of all the documents I’ve managed to copy in the past month since I last wrote. I hope you’re taking care of yourself, don’t let stress overcome you! Take a break now and then. Relax, LiLi.
Yours in love forever,
Xi Shi
 
Dearest Fan Li,
Today, the Wu Emperor bought me a huge collect of fine jewellery. I can’t even describe to you how dazzling they were. I spent the whole day shut in my room, shifting through piles of gold, silver, precious stones and jade. I’d never had a gift like that. How could someone give a lord’s ransom worth of jewellery so casually to his new and smallest wife? I didn’t know what was going through his mind at all. But I’m just so happy.
Is it strange to be so pleased by such a material gift? I know material objects are not meant to have much worth, but can anyone deny the worthiness of the golden chest before me? I think not.
I didn’t manage to collect that many papers this month as he’s not been very busy so is often in his room. I’m sneaky enough (or suicidal enough) to try and steal anything whilst he’s in the room. I’ve attached everything anyway.
Forever yours,
Xi Shi  
Dearest Fan Li,
He loves me. He confessed today. He wants to make me his first wife. What should I do? Fu Chai is so wonderful to me. I don’t deserve it yet he does everything in his power to make me happy. He can see I’m still not completely comfortable with him but he tries anyway. He’s just such a sweetheart. You’ve told me all about how harsh and cruel he was to our Emperor. But I don’t see even a tiny smudge of that man now. He’s completely changed and loves me.
He’s started work on a great Summer Palace just for me. He’s asked me for help on the designs because he said he “wanted it to be exactly as [I] wanted”. It’s going to be enormous! He’s going to build it the Imperial Park on the slopes of Linyang hill. I’m so torn, Fan Li. I love you, and yet Fu Chai is just. I don’t want to betray our Emperor, and I still feel proud to have been chosen for this task to bring our country back it its original greatness, yet I cannot help but feel guilty. Everyone here has been so wonderful to me, all the slaves, all his wives, their serving girls, and especially Fu Chai. He goes against his advisors wishes just for me.
I don’t want to betray them either.
I just wish things could be simpler. I wish I’d never left Yue.
The documents have been attached.
Xi Shi 
Dear Fan Li,
Why do you never reply to my letters?
I’ve been thinking hard about this and I want to think that it’s because the Emperor forbids you. If you send any letters to me, it would probably be checked more carefully by Fu Chai’s guards and so we’re more likely to get caught. But the more I thought about it, the less that seemed possible. I’ve written many, many times and they’ve never been checked once. Fu Chai trusts me, your plan has worked. And I’ve written to you about this fact many times too.
You know that it’s safe to you. And if you know, the Emperor will know too.
So why do you not write? I don’t want to come to incorrect conclusions but you’re not giving me much choice. I cannot stop my mind from wondering why you ignore me. Please write back this time, Fan Li. I don’t even know if you’ve ever received my letters and the copied documents. They could be anywhere. And it terrifies me. Assure me that I’m just being paranoid. Prove me wrong.
Please.
Xi Shi 
Fan Li,
I think I’m falling for him. I’m sorry. I haven’t seen you in years and he’s always there for me. He’s wonderful to me. He’s never hurt me and cares so much about me. Everyone says he’s hopelessly enamoured with me so much it’s beginning to damage his health.
I’m sorry.
Xi Shi 
Fan Li,
I killed someone today.
Not directly. I didn’t spill blood with a sword, yet there is still blood on my hands.
Fu Chai has been spending all of his time with me. He no longer works, never goes to meetings with his generals, and never bothers with his imperial duties. Wu started to spiral down into depression. You know all of this, and I’m sure the Emperor is very pleased that everything is going to plan. But Fu Chai hasn’t noticed this. Everyone else has started to panic.
Yesterday, Wu Zixiu – his First Advisor, the one who had been suspicious of me from the beginning – approached Fu Chai to warn him of the dangers I’m representing to his country and people. He told him that he shouldn’t be acting like this, a spoiled, young king. His country should come before everything else, even at the cost of his own happiness. He warned him of the increase in Yue’s power, the drastic improvements to their economy, the steady expansion of their army. He advised him to kill me. He said that I would bring about the destruction of his kingdom. And I think he’s right. Fu Chai refused to believe him, yet his confidence was knocked by the statistics Wu Zixiu showed him.
I was scared for my life. Fan Li, have you ever had your life dangled in the hands of another? I waited for him in his rooms, and grabbed him as he stormed through the doors. Words fell from my mouth. They tumbled out without conscious thought, twisting the truth to my advantage.
“I love you.”
It spilled out over and over and over again. But I didn’t know if I meant it. I don’t know if I mean it.
It worked though. He gently commanded me to calm down and talk to him rationally. Somehow I managed to convince him to kill his advisor as a traitor to the country.
It happened this morning. It was a public execution. Thousands of people gathered in front of the palace to witness this exciting event. They were terribly loud in their anticipation. I was sat next to Fu Chai, hands clasped tightly in my lap. No one could see my shaking. The ex-general walked out alone to thunderous roaring. He ignored the shouts of condemnation, and strode forwards, eyes not straying from his ‘goal’. When he reached the platform, he turned to salute his emperor but his burning eyes found mine.
They were full of fire that scored and destroyed. I couldn’t hide the shudder that ran down my spine. Fu Chai reached over a jade-clad hand to grasp my own, offering warm, heavy assurance.
“Any last words?”
The sword flashed under the weak morning light – flowing mercury. A soft wind whispered through the silent courtyard. It rippled down his hair as dark as a moonless night.
"After you've killed me, take my eyes and hang them over the city gates. I want to see the moment Gou Jian destroys your kingdom."
His voice was a clear as a silver blade, his eyes as violent as clouds before a storm.
The sword fell with a soft swish through the crisp air. My heart dropped with the thunk that followed.
There’s blood on my hands now, Fan Li. There’s the blood of Wu Zixiu and all of the innocents in Wu. All of them. You’re making me kill them all.
I hate you.
Xi Shi 
Historical document of the Spring and Autumn Period No. 5 – carving on tortoise shell, dated around 470BC, documents the fall of the Wu Kingdom, believed to be written by a Yue scholar
From the 7th year of Golden Dragon, the Yue Kingdom increased in size as it expanded to the West. The population doubled in the next decade, from 3000,000 to 600,000. 60% of the country’s wealth was channelled into the army, which had an unprecedented 10,000 soldiers. Yue was now a country as powerful as the Great Five.
The Great Yue Emperor lived by the code of ‘Wo xin chang dan’ - a promise to live every day with the reminder or his suffering, and never forget the taste of defeat. He led a Spartan life; all spare money to army. It is said that The Emperor lives on wooden boards, and tastes gallstones every day, bitter taste fuelling his revenge. The entire country looked up to their ruler’s example. Every person worked hard, refused to give up, determined to spur their country on to promised greatness.

Meanwhile Wu was falling into disparity. Poverty was widespread and there were talks of rebellion its citizens as its Emperor continued to ignore the impending crisis. When the First Advisor had been executed on grounds of treason in 14th year, outrage had swept through Wu, for Wu Zixiu had been a long-time supporter of the impoverished, often standing up for the less able in the Emperor’s Court. Hatred for the Wu Emperor grew in the years that followed. The people heard rumours of the wealthy and influential Yue – once their colony – and dark rumours of the bewitched Emperor spread. There was much talk of his newly instigated First Empress, Xi Shi, and her beguiling beauty, but also of her magic powers. People said she was a fox spirit, sent from the devil to drag Wu into his fiery embrace.
On the 8th day of the 9th month, in the 23rd year of Golden Dragon, the fragile peace broke. Yue attacked Wu. Thousands of Yue soldiers marched straight up to the city gates and walked in through the main gates. No one dared stop them as it was their Empress who opened the doors for her countrymen. The unprepared and lazy Wu soldiers stood no chance. The Wu capital was razed to the ground. The Empress led the Emperor’s private forces into the Imperial Palace. The fractured Wu army scrambled to stop them but were cut down one after the next with disarming ease. The blood of the weak stained the bamboo floors a mottled brown.
The Great Yue Emperor led his soldiers into the Wu king’s chambers. He hadn’t tried to escape and met them with moving sword. He had his honour to protect, though he’d lost his pride with the treachery of his most trusted wife. It was a mockery of the battle so many years ago, but this time it was the Wu Emperor on his knees before his enemy, begging for his life; he reminds the man before him that he had spared his life when in the same situation.
No one has pride when faced with death himself.
But the Great Emperor of the Golden Dragon is not as weak as the man on the ground. Before the day was over, the ancient kingdom of Wu had become a territory of Yue.  
The ending to this story is shrouded in legend. Others have picked up the pen to write their own ending. This is an extract from one of the most famous: 越绝书 (Yuè Juéshū) written by Yuan Kang.
Xi Shi and Fan Li had finally been reunited. Whatever had happened, whatever feelings they had had, all was discarded in their joy at seeing each other again. She was as perfect as the day she’d left, but the two decades separation showed on Fan Li. The years had been hard and it was his body that had paid the price, but his eyes were as bright as ever, his mind still sharper than everyone else.
“Run away with me,” he whispered into her ear. She didn’t know how to reply. He knew the consequences of their would-be actions. She loved him. He loved her. She wanted to be with him forever.
But above all, she was scared of death. Desertion can only equal treason. And there is only one punishment for a traitor to the Emperor. Fan Li was clever, was a man who knew how to use his words.
“I can promise you a better future than one we would have at the palace. Always hiding. Never being allowed to express our love for one another. We could set up a shop somewhere, live far, far away from Wu and Yue. We could raise a family and our children would never have to bear our burdens. I could take you to a place where no one would know our names.”
He could feel her start to reconsider. She wanted that. He knew she wanted that more than anything.
More than life?
“I can take you to a place where we can really be together. Happy. Forever.”
They left that night, sneaking away on a stolen horse. Deep into the night they rode, never ceasing in their desperate attempt to finally escape. It was almost morning by the time the Emperor’s men caught up with them. The lovers had been given a chance to get away. And they had failed.
Fan Li was executed that afternoon. No trial was needed, no witnesses called. The words of the Emperor were the words of the gods. The general was a popular man, a hero to many and a good man to all. But that wasn’t enough for anyone to dare raise the wrath of the gods and protest against such a happening. So his execution was quiet and demure. He was at least given a private ceremony and allowed to keep his pride - the greatest gift for the Great Emperor of Yue and Wu’s only friend.
Xi Shi was terribly sad. She sat motionless for days, sobbing with the loud, helpless brokenness of a child until her body collapsed from the strain. She was not allowed to witness his death, nor the secret ceremony one of the generals conducted that night. Though the actions of the general were treasonous, the Emperor did nothing from his position behind the column, staring out into the moonlit scene of mourning.
The Emperor told Xi Shi that she would serve at his side until her death, paying of her crimes with her body. She screamed and begged him to spare her from such a fate.
“Death would be a kinder ending.”
She was made his Third Wife the next day.
And through the years that followed, Xi Shi lost her youthful beauty. She was no longer the goddess of her childhood. She was old, tired and ugly. Yet the Emperor kept her on display at every dinner and every event. He continued to mock her with the disgusted glances of foreign royals, the casual spitefulness of the palace slaves who would refuse to serve her, and the sneers of his hundred other wives at the mockery that remained of the face that had once been more beautiful that the moon herself.
She would retreat to her room when it was allowed. Curled up on the futon, she would ignore the world for a few precious moments and imagine. She dreamed of Fan Li, of what everything would have been like if they had managed to evade the Emperor that night. She imagined the house they would have lived in, the children they would have had, the smiles they would have shared. Their first born would have been a little boy called Heng Gang, as strong and constant as the sea. And he would have been the most caring and protective older brother to their daughter, Mei Mei, as vivid and wild as the mountain blossoms of her old temple home.
And one day, fifty years from the day a young girl had met a kind general, Xi Shi wrapped herself in that beautiful dream and refused to let go.
The Emperor had finally carried out his revenge.



 
The Four Great Beauties of Ancient China

The Four Great Beauties are four ancient Chinese women, renowned for their beauty. Much of what is known of them today has been significantly embellished by legend due to the scarcity of historical archives regarding them. Their reputation was gained through the influence they held over powerful kings and emperors. Therefore many of their actions changed Chinese history itself. All brought kingdoms, kings, even gods to their knees and their lives ended in tragedy.
First and earliest among the four is Xī Shī, whose beautify was so widely recognised that the royal dog breed – the Shih Tzu – was named after her in an effort to make them as stunning as her. Xi Shi was said to be so beautiful that fish would forget how to swim and sink away from the surface when she walked past.
This description serves as the first two characters of the Chinese idiom 沉魚落雁, 閉月羞花 (pinyin: chényú luòyàn, bìyuè xiūhuā), which is used to compliment someone of their beauty.

Xi Shi, the woman who sank fish, enticed swallows from the sky, eclipsed the moon and shamed all flowers.
Xi Shi, who lives eternally in the words of China.
"Bound by life and all things good. Amaranth."