18 My Mission (3)

The two court servants struggled to pick up the heavy frame, one stumbling a bit as he mustered all of his efforts to no avail.

"The frame can stay," the emperor reminded without ever looking up. "Once this map is burned, there'll still be a new one to replace it."

Somehow, I doubted that he was alluding only to the map itself.

I watched silently as a pair of giant sheers tore through the canvas. Though they cut only around the edges, the beauty that had captivated me disappeared the moment they set hands on it. The rivers were severed, and entire cities were cleaved in half. In just a few snips, the essence and life in the work from before was wrestled from it, leaving a gaping emptiness.

If a map such as this one was destroyed each time there was a shift in borders, I could only imagine the actual destruction and waste from the past centuries of warring kingdoms.

The map's remains were folded and carefully escorted out as if in a funeral procession, and the door closed.

Although we were once again alone in the room, now, there was suddenly an eerily empty feeling. When I hadn't noticed the map before, its absence never bothered me. But now that I had, without it being there, there was irreplaceable loneliness.

"All things come to an end. The South is so. Song. Qi. Liang. Chen," the emperor leaned back, slumping into his chair. He said the last word with indifference. "The North is also as such. Wei. Qi. Zhou. Sui."

His voice was storylike, removed from reality as if he was telling a tale from a book. It was almost as if he hadn't participated in this history, and he was a mere bystander to the entire situation.

Only, even a commoner like me knew that the names he was so casually listing were dynasties that had all flown by in the last two centuries, none lasting more than a few decades before being swallowed by another.

Two centuries were a long time. Two hundred years were much longer than any lifetime. Moreover, because of the war-torn nature of the years, whether from the war itself or the famines that accompanied, so many lives were yet further cut short. I doubted that I would last past fifty.

"The day you wed into Sui will be when Liang's final countdown begins." A helpless exclamation followed, but whether that was a weak laugh or a sigh or a combination of both, to this day, I still do not know. "It's time that all of the North's investments pay off."

Another burst of coughing overtook him, and he pressed his hand to his chest to suppress the convulsing. Finally, he collapsed utterly into his seat, gasping for breath.

My instincts were to rush over and pat his back, but I reminded myself that I was no longer an apothecarist. This man had his team of Imperial Physicians, and I played a different role in his game of chess.

"The Sui, in its youth, is full of reinstated vigor. Meanwhile, Chen is rotting from its core. Within years, the Sui will conquer it. And when that day comes, Liang too will disappear off the map, never to reappear again even as a vassal kingdom."

As he said the words prophesizing his own downfall, there was not as much of a fluctuation to his tone. On the contrary, I couldn't imagine what look of horror dominated my expressions after hearing him.

With a sinking heart, I realized that if what he said became reality, my already desolate home was to become a battleground. If we dared to fight against the North, we would be immediately vanquished. But if we aided them in their conquests as we were doing now, we too would be one day be swallowed when their more significant threats disappeared.

How could I ever help this hopeless situation?

"The North wrestled the land Liang currently stands on from the Chen. Our existence was made to be a symbol of Southerners' acceptance of Northern rule, and we will willingly play our part in the script and deliver our end of the bargain," he rubbed his temple, deep in thought. "You must hate me for selling you and for being a puppet instead of an actual man."

He looked at me, his eyes gapingly hollow. "But every time I sit on this polished golden throne, I feel the lost souls grasping onto it, asking me why I couldn't do more for them and their family. They question why I couldn't end this chaotic time or reunite this fragmented land to put an end to their misery."

Brushing the arm of the throne, there was a conscious distance between his hand and the symbol of imperial power. "I try to ignore them and say that this chaos has far outlived my lifetime. Yet whenever I close my eyes or try to recite the hymns, something chokes me from deep within."

Nonchalantly, he sat back up, looking straight at me. "It's time that these troubled years come to an end for good."

His face was of determination. There wasn't any hint of dismay expected from an emperor who was about to lose his title.

"But Liang will not be conquered. When the time comes, if I am still alive, I will willingly offer it to the Sui," he smiled. "We've been in a plague that has lasted centuries, Youshi. The only cure is reuniting. Liang couldn't do it back then, and we definitely won't be able to do that now. You saw the beauty of the land and the allure of the map. Now imagine its grace before it was fragmented and forced borders divided us."

As hard as I tried, I couldn't bear with the thought of a horde of barbarians ruling over our prided culture and casting it away. If it weren't so, if there ever were a day that I would live to see a reunited land, I swore to protect it until I died.

There was a pause.

"Don't think of the North as mere barbarians." Standing up, he took a calligraphy brush from the rack. "If you hate them and look down upon them, they too will never see you as one of their own. So even when the physical borders are gone, the invisible seams will not be mended.

He collected his sleeves, lightly dabbing the brush in water before in ink.

"Convince the Northern court that the Liang kingdom isn't merely a blind figurehead of the South's acceptance of the North, scared to fight back because of their weapons. Remind them that there was a time when Southerners weren't merely an inferior weakling to them. Bring them our traditions and show them that even after they physically conquer us, we are still worth a say in their court."

The tip of the brush hovered above the paper in anticipation.

"While he is only a second prince, the Sui's Prince of Jin has potential. He is still young and easily influenced, so if you can change his perception of the South, then it will be as if casting a stone into a before-still pond. Remember, if he trusts you enough, when he gains power and influence, as will the court of Jiangling."

He flicked his wrist in a strong stroke.

"But all of that starts with you." A bitter smile crept up his lips.

"When the day comes when the only name on the map is Sui, I hope you would have gathered enough influence at their court to make sure Liang and its citizens are not forgotten. Otherwise, it would be akin to meeting our ends and being stripped of identity for good."

An invisible weight suddenly crushed me, forcing me to not only look at the man in front of me for what he truly was but also to realize the monumental task that he had just coerced me into.

This entire conversation was staged from the start. He knew very well what he wanted me to think, and now that I could no longer unsee the bigger picture and willingly play my part to the best of my abilities, his task was done.

"For the citizens of Liang, I thank you." He paused, "As a father who is otherwise unable to do anything, I thank you."

A single tear rolled down his face, falling onto the newly written character.

"He"—it was a simple word with few but powerful strokes.

Peace.