Pine, Bamboo, and Plum: A Song AAR (MEIOU)

I swear to god, I'm going to think long and hard before the next time I try to do anything "high concept." This has been through so many rewrites I just stopped keeping track of the drafts. I'm on a bit of a roll, so I'm hoping to finish part 2 tonight/tomorrow, but y'all saw how my last "tonight or tomorrow" promise turned out. But yeah, after that it's back to your regularly scheduled program.

Oh and a bit of trivia about my AAR! I really enjoy photoshopping my images, especially portraits (eg I gave Wangdue angry eyebrows, Kaiwang no facial hair, and Wangdue a normal-looking mouth since the original looked like a V.) Here's a before/after of two I particularly like (which will be used in part 2) for those who may be curious:



Edit: !!! Obv I've been away so I just now saw my AAR has won an AARland Choice AwAARd! Thank you all. <3 It's truly an honor.

@Erebos26: The first ever chatterbot, ELIZA, was written in the 60's. Even though people were told it was just a program (and indeed, a very primitive one), they began to ascribe human characteristics to it. In fact, people felt that the chatterbot actually felt empathy toward them. (Wiki: ELIZA Effect.) So us projecting personalities onto EU AIs isn't that unusual, actually.

@Sjiveru: Hard, but fun! I got into the AAR style because I've written "novels" (aka 50k+ word tracts but not good enough to show anyone) and learned I cannot keep a plot going to save my life. I always introduce so much crazy stuff that it turns into such a convoluted mess even I don't understand what's going on. The great thing about the AAR form is that it slaps me in the face and sez, "Shut up. This happened." So I don't have to worry about what happens, but I can run wild with why it happens.

@Stuyvesant: Well... this is how I see it. Wangyi usurped the throne, and that fact that I can gain 10% legitimacy a year through valid game mechanics (vanilla mechanics even, not MEIOU-specific) feels cheap. So I'm RPing him as super cautious about wars, because one unpopular decision and it could be off with his head b/c he doesn't have any kind of lineage/tradition protecting his reign.

But on a gameplay level, Tia only has one province worth a damn besides their capital, which I'm eyeing but not moving on yet. My super-goal is to keep up with Europe's 100% tech efficiency without modding China's 80% or switching group, so I'm very sensitive to average province income. Right now, I'm running 10% military maint and splurging on buildings without inflation, which helps tech a lot more than adding grain provinces.

Wa. Ah, I do love to visit the harbor. The bustle of commerce, the vitality of seafaring, the sailors preparing to embark on their journeys...

Li. The stench of saltwater and shellfish.

Wa. “Aroma,” I'd say.

Li. If you want to romanticize it.

Wa. If you don't find all this romantic, you've no sense of adventure.

Li. Perhaps I'm a Northerner at heart. My idea of an adventure is in the saddle, not at the helm of some leaky junk.

Wa. Would explain why your horse archers outnumber your spearmen.

Li. And why your sailors outnumber your soldiers. But I thought we'd agreed not to discuss politics on these rendezvous.

Wa. And yet we manage to bring it up every time. I suppose it's impossible for us to separate ourselves from our work.

Li. Then, may as well continue the thread. Zhu Likwong declared war on the Tibetans. He requested that my armies join his to push them out of the Middle Kingdom.

Wa. That seems rather... foolish on his part. If you refuse, Xiang won't stand a chance against Tibet.

Li. Why would I refuse? He did it knowing I would accept.

Wa. Why commit your men so far from your borders?

Li. Borders mean little here. It's a matter of defending China from non-Chinese. Internal squabbles pale in comparison. No one wants another Yuan, but not everyone is willing to fight to prevent one before it becomes inevitable.

Wa. Yet you have no compunction against waging war on the other Chinese kingdoms, while I do. In the same vein, the west wouldn't be in such a sorry state if not for that war with Xia.

Li. You're missing the point. Families fight families inside their community but band together to protect that community from others. You don't want war between the kingdoms at all. I see it as unavoidable, so I want the non-Han realms to be weakened to the point that they can't take advantage of conflict inside the Middle Kingdom.

Wa. How pessimistic. I would rather see a China in harmony, balanced enough that it can focus only on the external.

Li. You're dreaming! China can never be in harmony as long as more than one person has any power at all. We are the center of the world. There's nothing outside of China that matters as much as anything inside. Jungles to the south, deserts and mountains to the west, steppes to the north, oceans to the east. No king would be content fighting for any of that when he could fight for a larger share of this.

Wa. You take too dim a view of human nature. If a man has enough, why should he even bother to fight for more?

Li. No man is ever satisfied with what he has. No matter how well-off he is, he always wants more.

Wa. I don't.

Li. Yes, I'm sure it was your modesty and lack of ambition that put you on your throne.

Wa. Now, now, this is supposed to be a pleasant chat. There's no need to be catty.

Li. Don't patronize me. And just because you're insulated from hardship in your bubble in Hangzhou doesn't mean you can lecture the rest of us on man's "essential goodness." It's absurd.

Wa. Insulated from hardship? You honestly think your suffering is that great?

Li. You're god damn right! How long was it, Wangyi, that you disappeared for? Two years? Three? And your underlings just went about their business until you came back. Can you imagine what would happen to me if I did that? Every day I have to deal with the fact that men in my own government want to see me and my sons dead. And for no reason other than that I'm a woman. I could be a vicious tyrant terrorizing my people into submission, I could be a wise and noble philosopher-queen leading my nation to greatness, it doesn't matter. If I let the reins slip from my hand for even a moment, nothing I do, nothing, will ever save me.

Wa. Li, I--

Li. I've come to terms with the fact that I'll never live in peace. This is the fate Heaven set upon my shoulders. I'm just trying... trying to steward my kingdom, guide it on the right path, so that when I'm gone it may continue to thrive, and China along with it.

Wa. I didn't mean to shrug off your troubles. I just mean... not everyone is your enemy. And you aren't the only one with hardships. Maybe you don't trust me, but no one can do everything on their own. And I mean it when I say I desire only friendship between us and our kingdoms. Harmony is possible. We're the two most powerful people in the world, the two that can make that harmony a reality. We should be working together, not clawing at each other's throats.

Li. I'm sorry. I know you mean well. It's just difficult for me to rely on others, after...
Li. ...after knowing what others will do, given the chance.

Wa. In either case, people are starting to give us strange looks.

Li. Well, if your Shanghai is truly a sailors' city, there must be dozens of places for us to sit and get some baijiu. Be so kind as to lead the way, hm?

Wa. Ech. Vile. I was thinking wine. Or at least something with herbs, or honey...

Li. No no no, none of that dainty sugar-water this time. Real liquor. Don't worry. No shame if you can't keep up with a professional.

Wa. Just because I prefer not to light my insides on fire doesn't mean I can't drink you under the table. If you're looking for a challenge, you don't stand a chance.

Li. We'll see about that.

[Exeunt.​

“Well, well, well,” says Queen Li. “You're looking healthier than reports would suggest.”

The elderly Zhu Calwang groans to his feet and shuffles to meet Li face-to-face. The man smiles as if he hasn't a care in the world.

“Realizing you're soon to die," he says, "puts a certain spring in your step. It would be a shame to live on borrowed time and spend it all in bed. You'll understand when you're my age.”

“I know what it's like to be close to death,” Li says, “and unlike you, I didn't throw away my sense of duty. The shit you're trying to pull is nothi--”

A laugh echoes from the far corner of the room. A young man steps out into the dim light from an alcove veiled by shadows. “What would a woman know of 'duty!'”

The old Tianwan king waves off the comment. “Be quiet, Chenghua.” He turns back to Li, smile still plastered on his face. “I apologize. Youth. They talk when they should listen.” The boy crosses his arms and scowls. “Now, please. What may I do for you, Queen Li?”

“You know why I'm here,” she says. “You replied to my damn letter but managed to write about everything except the matter at hand.”

Calwang solemnly shakes his head. “I'm sorry. It's impossible for me to allow your troops through my realm. We're still rebuilding our strength, and we can't afford to be dragged into Xiang's war with Tibet.”

“'Xiang's' war? This isn't about that. This is about a barbarian kingdom fighting its way into China. And I don't ask you to fight. All I ask is you allow me to.”

“Mei banfa. It can't be done.”

Li clenches her teeth and balls her hands up into fists. “I put you on this throne myself, and this is how you treat me? The king of Xiang is your nephew. I'm your sister-in-law. And you turn your back on us for what?”

Calwang's smile grows wider, his sublime amusement mirroring that of the Laughing Buddha. “What nephew of mine would steal my territory?”

“Oh,” Li says, “that's what this is about. You want to see Xiang's armies crushed because you can't best them on even terms, just so you can take back lands that by right shouldn't belong to you. You forget the Southern Song, old man. They had the same idea to use the Mongols against the Jin, then were utterly surprised when the Mongols conquered them in turn.”

“How amusing, to be lectured by Queen Li on opportunism.”

Li's nostrils flare. She shoots the old king an icy gaze. “You misunderstand me. I take no issue with 'opportunism.' The fact of the matter is you're willing to put all of the Middle Kingdom at risk over one worthless province. If Tibet defeats Xiang, the Tibetans will share a border with you. And, as you said, you're still rebuilding your strength. Is a massive, warlike empire on your borders what you truly want? I'm offering to fight them back on your behalf.”

The old king takes a step back. His eyebrows quaver, and for the first time, his grin begins to fade. “Well, I...”

“And again, as you said, you live on borrowed time. Your decision here will not affect you, but it will affect your kingdom and your sons. However qualified you think you may be to defend your realm from Tibet, it will be for the next king of Tianwan to wage that war. Is that the sort of burden you want to pass down your line?”

“You... you may be right...”

Li softens her features, takes a step forward. “Please, Calwang. I'm not your enemy. Once the Tibetans are driven out of China, I promise to remain neutral in Tianwan's dealings with Xiang. But to press your claims while the Middle Kingom is under attack would imperil us all.”

“Enough!” The young Chenghua storms to his father's side, his face a flurry of rage and madness. The king's son screams, “Get out! Get out! My father is senile and stupid if he believes your lies!”

The man turns to his son. “Chenghua, shut up!”

“No! No! I won't stand by while this disrespectful bitch poisons your mind!”

Li stands her ground. “I only state the truth. You cannot stand alone against the armies of Tibet, battle-hardened and tens of thousands strong.”

“The hell you know! I can! I can! I'll fight them myself if I have to!”

The king puts his hand on the young man's shoulder. “Son, please--”

Chenghua shoves his father away. The old man loses his balance and falls to the floor. Chenghua, eyes aflame, jabs a finger into Li's sternum. “You have no idea, woman. I'll rout them on the fields of battle and chase them to their mountain homes. I'll slaughter them all. The Tibetan Plateau will be a sea of blood. And when I'm finished with those worthless animals, you and yours will be next. You call yourself a Zhu. But you're nothing but a whore mother of two bastard sons. Learn your place.”

Li doesn't flinch. She stares down the furious boy. Chenghua wheezes like an ox pulling a cart of lead. He trembles like a man plunged into a bath of ice water. The evil young man scares her. But she refuses to let it show. She looks to the old man, still lying on the ground whether due to pain or shock.

“If this is your heir,” she says, “I fear for your kingdom.” She turns and departs.


See, the whole idea... the whole plan is to be above, looking down. That's how it works, how it all works, the one on top controls those below, strict hierarchy, master and slave, superior and subordinate, but what does it really mean? It's just a matter of elevation, see, of being above. Th-that's how the Mongols, the Yuan, that's how the Mongols did it... they they they had the high ground and they just came down, see, down from the steppes. They had gravity on their side, see, that's how they did it, so the key is to--

“Father, I don't understand.”

H-how... that one, that one, more dangerous than he looks... he can see our thoughts, I knew it, I knew! Why, if he can read our mind as easily as one reads a scroll, then he must know everything... know our whole plan...

“No, Father, you're mumbling to yourself again... you aren't making any sense...”

Don't listen to him, don't listen, he just trying to fool you. Trying to hide his powers. Pretend he isn't there, maybe he'll leave us alone, stop playing tricks on our mind, yes... Aha, but anyway... once we have the proper vantage none of this will matter, we'll simply sw-swoop! Swoop down on China from above and it will be ours! Ha! Haha! The steppes, the steppes are the key, yes...

“Father, you're old. You need rest. Come, please...”

Why is he—no, no no no, we can't... doesn't he know who we are? What we can do?

“F-Father, no! Guards, come quickly!”

“My King, put the knife down!”

“I told you fools to make sure he couldn't--”

“My King, please!”

Hahaha, we have him at our mercy, don't we... without us their plan falls apart, and they can't have that, oh no... th-they have their plans, but with one move we can ruin them and...

“Grab his arm, grab his arm!”

“Be careful, you're hurting him!”

“Your father's brain is infected with demons, boy.”

“He can recover, just give him time.”

“He's ruining this kingdom! Please, you need to get rid of the old man and take the throne. Just say the word, and I can--”

“No! He's still your king, you traitorous cur! Guards, arrest this man!”

All falling into place, yes, soon it will be time to take what is ours, and we have them right where we want them, right where we want them, right where we--

Nevermind the “part 2,” I just mixed the content into a more standard update... trying to do Wangyi/Li play-style again was running into similar roadblocks. And just a refresher since I didn't bring up the kids for a while... Wangyi's son is 8 in '82, and Li's son here is her younger one... the older, by Yuanzhang, is an adult on the throne (and doesn't show up.) I didn't make it clear in the text itself so I say it here (bad writer, bad!!)

@Memento Mori: Haha. I'd considered a “royal marriage” but I think I like the vague sexual tension more. And events, as y'all will see, may intervene... lips are sealed though.

@scholar: Haha, indeed on the waiting. Work and school and all that, but I'm hoping to keep a schedule of at least an update a week...

And Ming is mooostly stable... the bureaucracy likes peace and prosperity, the army doesn't. Realistically, almost no 14th century monarch would ever leave their realm though. :laugh: I remember one anecdote about some European royal marriage that had to be conducted on a border b/c neither family would leave their lands. But acceptable break from reality since I like my characters getting' all up close and personal.

Also... sorry, the golem ref may be going over my head, only semi-familiar w/ the figure from Jewish mysticism (...and the Pokemon.)

@Sjiveru: No typo, names are just whatever the game gives me... so there will be idiosyncrasies. And thank you!

@Stuyvesant: Thank you! I'm having fun messing around w/ tone and style... there will be future updates written from the POV of the deliciously anachronistic modern-sounding bureaucracy I can't wait to get to.

And it's funny about Li, in that when I conceived her during Lin'er's reign, I'd just meant for her to be a generic 1-dimensional villain... but when going through event histories, I came up with a much fuller role for her. I really like her now.

@mayorqw: Thank you!

@Bagricula: I must defer to you, as you understand the nuances far better than me... luckily it's a ways away, so I have plenty of time to do my reading on Chinese philosophy. :laugh: And outside of China, I'm also excited to see how Europe reacts to “discovering” a civilization just as advanced, if not more-so, than they are. I suspect it'd throw a big wrench in the cultural superiority they developed during the colonial era in our world.

@Tanzhang: :rofl: Indeed. A wise ruler has at least 10,000 soldiers per innovative idea!

Zhu Chenghua sits alone in the garden, livid, enraged, long after his father departs. The old man is a fool, a coward. Chenghua only spoke the truth, but the old man refused to hear it. An outrage. No doubt the king is on his way now to the scribes, to have them put his decision on paper. The shortsighted fool. Chenghua can't believe his father would so willingly throw away Tianwan's future. He deserves to be the next king. He's the only one who could lead the kingdom back into greatness, establish it as the next imperial dynasty. But no. His older brother will be heir apparent.

The outburst against “Zhu” Li, the talk of laying waste to all rivals as Yuanzhang would have done, the... what were his words... “predisposition toward violence when talk would suffice.” The “impropriety of passing over Yongwang for the second-born.” The old man listed reason after reason as if he were trying to convince himself. Yongwang is the “safer” choice, the “reasonable” choice... outrageous. What do safety and reason matter, when nothing but strength and steel will preserve the kingdom?

Chenghua can't abide it. Soon his father will be dead, and he'll be free to do as he pleases. Chenghua loves his brother, sure, but if it's the only way to save the kingdom... Unless there is another way...

He sits and broods. They don't give him enough credit, call him hot-headed, quick to anger, but in this moment, his brain calmly turns over the options in front of him. The only thing certain is that, someday, one way or another, it will be for him and his to rule All Under Heaven.


For years, the Song Kingdom has known little but stability, peace, and steady improvement. Zhao Wangyi's building projects, while costly at first, are now beginning to pay for themselves through the increased economic activity they foster. While Shu has joined Xiang in the war against Tibet, and Zhou launches an apparently purposeless invasion of Mongolia, there is nothing but prosperity among the three major coastal powers. The king of Yue is an occasional guest of honor in Hangzhou, and Wangyi's frequent excursions with Queen Li, although generating some colorful rumors the king is quick to dispel, are treated as a sign that peace will reign supreme.

But bureaucrats will be bureaucrats, of course, and not finding anything important to micromanage, they take to complaining about the most trivial of things.

“But, Sir, the cost of the navy hardly justifies the--”

Wangyi puts up a finger to silence the man. He turns to his desk and shuffles through paperwork, pulling out a sheet and looking it over. “Hardly justifies the single-digit percentage of the budget it occupies? I don't see a cause for alarm.”

“Sir, the figure may be small, but the Minister of Taxation insists I examine all possible avenues of reducing the budget. With respect, the navy appears to be nothing but an unnecessary financial burden since the defeat of the wokou pirates.”

“I would disagree with the Minister. Maintaining a constant naval presence is essential, regardless of its utility at any discrete moment.”

“But, Sir, with only the island of Jeju under our command...”

Wangyi turns his chair to face the man, who backs away a step, worried he may have said the wrong thing.

“S-Sir, I don't mean to... these are the Minister's words, I-I only communica--”

“So the Minister's chief objection is that we're spending this money on a navy that only has one island to defend?”

“Y-Yes, Sir.”

Wangyi shrugs. “Very well, then.” He turns back to his desk and reaches for his brush. “I suppose to satisfy him, I had better conquer some more.”

In October of 1380, the Song fleet sets sail, intending to annex the Ryukyu Islands.


Although individual principalities control various islands, or even just parts of islands, they unite in an attempt to fight off the Chinese invasion. These efforts, however, are in vain: their entire navy is sunk off the coast of the Japanese island of Tsukushi, and within a month their armies are defeated just as handily.


As the Song troops settle in to siege the islands' forts, news arrives that the old king of Tianwan is dead. The throne passes to his oldest son, who immediately sends good tidings to Ming and Song, hoping for “continued cooperation with the great kingdoms of the coast.”


The “war” against Ryukyu goes on until July of 1382, when the last native resistance is finally put down and the islands are placed under Song control. No one really takes much notice of it. Being sparsely-populated, relatively poor, and of no strategic value in any potential battles, the event hardly merits a mention--it will be decades before the war's political implications are felt.*


“Your evil has gone on long enough, Emperor! En garde!”

“Ha! You think you can defeat me? Come at me, then, and I'll teach you not to draw your sword on the Son of Heaven!”

“You're not the rightful emperor, and I'm here to put an end to your reign once and f--Ow! What'd you hit me for?”

“Sorry! I thought you'd block...”

“I was still talking, moron! Now I get to hit you back so we're even!”

“Gotta catch me first!”

The two boys run out of the palace's tea room, wooden swords in hand, laughing. Wangyi chuckles and shakes his head. He refills Li's cup, then his own. “Xingwang spends most of his time on poetry and philosophy, but ten minutes with your son and he's already a swordfighter. Eight years of responsible parenting down the drain.”

“Ha! I'd be more worried about my son getting caught in a real fight without any experience playing at it.”

“I'd say if the heir to a kingdom is getting in fights at all, there's been a serious breakdown in normalcy.”

“I'd say if a boy isn't getting into fights, he isn't doing his job.”

They share a laugh. Their spirits have been lighter since the Tianwan succession. Outwardly, anyway. They've discussed the whole business of Zhu Chenghua ad nauseum. True to character, Wangyi sees the situation as open and shut. The more reasonable brother ascended, and Chenghua will fade into obscurity. Even if he did usurp the throne, Tianwan's military is nothing compared to Song's or Ming's.

Li is far more wary of the man. Even though he has no power, she insists he cannot be ignored. She's confessed to Wangyi--they hardly keep any secrets anymore--that if she could justify it politically, she would have him assassinated. But with the number of detractors she still has in her council, and his blood relations to her late husband, it can't be done. Naturally, Wangyi wants nothing to do with the idea. They've since dropped the subject.

“It's good to see them getting along so well,” Wangyi says. He smirks slightly. “The legitimacy of the 'emperor' aside.”

“They're kids,” says Li. “What do they know or care of geopolitics? I'm more surprised we get along.”

“I suppose you're right. Sometimes I forget what it's like to be that age...”

Li scoffs. “Oh please. I'm three years older than you.”

“I know, I know. Credit to your memory. I don't know. I'm thirty-seven, but sometimes I just feel like a tired, lonely old man. And... I still...” Wangyi sighs. “It's been over five years since my wife passed away, and that... emptiness is still there.”

Li puts a hand on Wangyi's shoulder. “It doesn't ever go away. Trust me. It's just something you have to learn to deal with.”

They drink their tea in silence for some minutes. Faint sounds of their children play-fighting outside leak in through the window.

“You're not the only one,” Li speaks up. “Who's lonely, I mean.”

“I suppose this is our fate, then. To be alone together.”

“I suppose. Such is life, after all.”


-----
*“The conquest of Ryukyu is quite remarkable,” one modern historian writes, “in that the actual war could be summed up in a pamphlet, yet the books written about its consequences could fill a library. Indeed, no enemy the Song Kingdom ever fought was as impotent, and no war as inconsequential. But, had those little islands not been conquered, the world today would be utterly unrecognizable.”

Update! Since it'll be the last post on this page, I'd appreciate it if the first comment alerted readers it was here... I always miss updates when they're at the end of pages (maybe I should pay more attention!)

Also my first attempt at "real" fake art. Check it! I'd wanted to keep the cloth hanging from the arm but it was way too hard to edit out the fire background and shadow it properly...



@Stuyvesant, Sjiveru, Memento Mori: The Ryukyu thing is sorta like... a Monroe Doctrine type situation. It isn't that important for gameplay, but later on my leaders use it to make big geopolitical moves. Nothing crazy like "and then we fled the continent and tagswitched; Ryukyu WC time!!!1" :laugh: Although that would be the best shark-jump ever for a "serious" AAR.

As for the kids... mmm, well. :x

For the next two years, to the summer of 1384, war continues to rage on the outskirts of China. Zhou haphazardly carves a swath of territory out of Yuan-controlled Mongolia. Xia expands westward, encountering the fierce Muslim warriors of Kashmir. Rebels in the old capital of Dadu, dissatisfied with Qi rule, rise up in an attempt to form their own kingdom. And although Shu armies continue to advance through Tibetan territory, the barbarians utterly destroy Xiang. Their king is forced to cede the eastern half of his kingdom, leaving him with just the lands around his capital and the faraway province Tianwan claims is rightfully theirs--a claim many fear the new Tianwan king may act upon.


Zhu Chenghua sits down on a bench next to his older brother. Since Yongwang took the throne, Chenghua has made every effort to... endear himself to his sibling. He never cared much for him--lazy, boorish, without the foresight or grandeur of vision to lead--but good relations are paramount, after all... wouldn't want Yongwang to step out of line...

Putting an arm around his brother's shoulder, Chenghua says, “Don't worry about it. Trust me. I'll have everything under control.”

“It's a foolish idea. Our army is still in shambles, and Ming certainly won't stand by while we--”

“Don't worry about the other kingdoms. They may interfere at first, but they must simply be taught the price of that interference.”

“I'm listening.”

“How do you correct the behavior of a spoiled child? Discipline. It's like training a dog, Yongwang. We simply make it so painful for them to involve themselves in our affairs that they're terrified to resist. People are not so noble as you think...”


In December of 1384, Zhu Yongwang of Tianwan declares war on Xiang.


Having lost their entire army in the previous war, Xiang stands almost totally defenseless. Outraged at Tianwan's attempt to crush the kingdom after it so valiantly fought back the Tibetan barbarians for five years, Zhu Li accepts her ally's call to arms. She moves her armies to the border and sends a letter to the Tianwan king, urging him to call off the war against his own cousin and find a more peaceful solution.

Tianwan responds in February, but not in the form of a letter: an assassin is sent to the Palace of Brilliance in Nanjing. Li's younger son is murdered. An anonymous note arrives in Hangzhou for Zhao Wangyi around the same time. “If you value the life of your heir,” it reads, “as Consort Li apparently did not, you will stay out of this war.”

Wangyi shuts himself in his chambers for a few days to consider his options. He hasn't heard from Li. No request to join the war, no indication whether she plans to fight on, nothing. He does fear for Xingwang; the boy is his only heir, sharp as a whip, and very dear to him... but is Li not dear to him also? And can Zhu Yongwang--or whoever is responsible--be allowed to order the deaths of royal children?

When Wangyi emerges from his isolation, he summons his generals to the council room. “Gentlemen,” he tells them, “prepare your troops for war.”


Chenghua's gamble, that he could scare the other kingdoms into aquiescence, proves an enormous blunder. Yue quickly lines up behind Song to attack the wayward kingdom. Zhou refuses to honor their alliance with Tianwan, and Shu and Qi quickly declare their own wars, putting the kingdom alone against seven others. Their armies are obliterated within months, and the other kingdoms settle in to sieges.


Qi makes peace with Tianwan in 1385, reclaiming the province they'd lost years earlier. By March 1387, the province of Siyuan surrenders to Song and it is added to the kingdom.


Determined to end the threat of Tianwan aggression, and partly as punishment for their unimaginable assassination, Wangyi demands the kingdom renounce all its claims on lands outside its borders. Zhu Yongwang protests that the conditions for peace are too harsh, but Wangyi will hear nothing of it. “I have no desire,” he writes, “to see you menace your neighbors ever again.”


Utterly defeated, Yongwang plans to make his younger brother pay for convincing him to go through with the disastrous plan. But when he searches the palace for Chenghua, the man is nowhere to be found.

Wangyi sends several letters to Li, expressing his condolences for her loss, offering a defensive alliance, asking permission to come to Nanjing. She doesn't reply for months. He goes so far as to dispatch spies, not for any aggressive purpose, but just to find out what's happening. Information remains unforthcoming.

In November of 1387, she finally writes back: “Don't come here. It isn't safe. You know I'm not the sentimental type, but you were good to me when others were not. I hope I can see you again some day. But if I cannot, then this is goodbye.”


Queen Zhu Li sits on her throne and stares vacantly at the door. She's grown gaunt and pale; she hasn't eaten in several days. Her eyes are bloodshot and sore. She holds her husband's jian at her side, blade still sharp. Better to go down with honor after all. She knows what's about to happen.

Too long the Great Ming has been held back by the weak and feeble desires of a cowardly woman. No man worth his salt should be forced to abide this. If you follow me, I promise you will no longer have to.

Barely any guards have stayed behind. Most have defected or fled. Same with the bureaucrats. Her prime minister at least had the courtesy to tell her of the plot before he left. Bastard. She was right. They knew, they all knew, even those who she'd made fat and wealthy, can't trust anyone...

Some of you have said Li brought you peace and prosperity. To that I say, any military man who values peace is a coward! If you back me, I promise nothing but war! War after glorious war! We will crush our enemies, wipe them from the face of this Earth, and we will never stop until we have united the Middle Kingdom!

God damn it. First her younger son, strangled in his bed three years ago. Now her older, betrayed by the Ming army and cut down while touring the countryside. The generals, the generals, drunk on their ideas of a new empire... she knew it was coming, but she'd thought, she'd prayed it would be enough to enrich the kingdom. But no. Never satisfied, never happy unless All Under Heaven is under one man, one man... so it's come to this.

Many of you, generals now, served as common soldiers under Zhu Yuanzhang himself. He promised you glory, promised you triumph, but he succumbed before his vision of a Ming Dynasty could reach fruition. And a concubine took his place, scheming to prevent the kingdom from achieving its destiny. No more! I am Yuanzhang's nephew. The same blood flows through my veins as his, the same passion lights a fire in my heart! Follow me, and all of China will be under our heel!

Li hears footsteps in the hallway outside. The door swings open. Into the room steps the usurper, the murderer himself: Zhu Chenghua.

“I'm impressed,” she says coldly. “I thought you'd send one of your lackeys for me too.”

A cruel grin inches up the man's face. “No. There's nothing I'd enjoy more than doing this myself.”

Li stands up, clutching her sword in both hands. She walks down the throne's stairs, calm, deliberate, at peace. “Draw your weapon, little boy. Let's get this over with.”

Chenghua pulls his dao out of its scabbard. He stares Li down for a moment, then lets out a roar and runs at her, slashing down with all his might. Li deflects the blow and takes a step back. Chenghua slashes at her again, and their swords cross with a clang. He isn't as strong as she thought he'd be: with their swords locked, she manages to push him back on his heels.

Chenghua twists his sword to force Li's away and expose her torso. He stabs her in the shoulder, grinning as blood soaks into her robes. Li grimaces. She refuses to cry out. Won't let him have the satisfaction of it, never. The man pulls his sword out of Li's shoulder and chops down at her head. She jumps back and Chenghua's sword hits the ground. With her one good arm, she slashes up toward his face.

“Argh!” Chenghua screams and clutches his face. Blood drips down his hand. “My eye! My eye!”

Li steps forward and thrusts at the man's chest. But at the last moment, Chenghua parries the attack. In the same motion, he cuts Li open at the stomach. She falls to her knees. She makes one last swipe at the man, but he grabs her wrist with his left hand and twists it around. She drops her sword and he kicks it across the room, placing his own blade under her chin.

“Come on,” he growls, “beg! Beg for your your life, you bitch!”

Despite her wounds, Li feels strangely at peace. Chenghua wheezes and gasps for air, but Li is steady and firm. Defiant to the end, she looks up and stares him dead in the eye--the one she hasn't put out, anyway.

“Never.”

“You ignorant whore! You're nothing! Nothing! No one will ever remember your worthless reign, but I will go down in history as the founder of the greatest dynasty China has ever known!”

Li spits on Chenghua's face. She smirks. “I was the first to ever sit on this throne. You'll be the last.”

At that, Chenghua slashes her throat open.



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((In game terms, what happened was Ming's heir died in '84. Then the king died in '87, with Chenghua being the new randomly-created king.))