The Mind of a Sole Man
Empires will fall, armies wither and lakes drained. An Emperor shall always rule in Guangfei, always. Guangfei Maxim
I have read all of the Great Archives of the Han Emperors, every single one of them as I marveled at their words carved in bamboo or written upon the finest quality of paper. From my fabled ancestor, Gaozu to my own father Dian, these Emperors had always in life appeared to be cold and hard like stone, unrelenting and inhumane. And all, if not most of them put not a single word about how they feel, or what they think. It is all of economics, military strategies, court intrigue.
Thus, I have prepared this journal so that the Emperors that shall follow me will know as I did that day as I ascended and sat upon the Dragon Throne, that we Emperors are still human. That we Emperors, are the loneliest of the lonely. As Gaozu once wrote,
I may be the most powerful in Guangfei, yet the power means nothing. I yearn for the past, before power and responsibility came side by side. Indeed, I would remember those words more then any others
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It is ironic that when I was summoned to Guanzhong after almost a 7 seven years absence, I had not the slightest clue of was going to happen. You see, I, the youngest son of Emperor Dian, had married for love, and not for the state. I had married a merchants daughter, a woman I was passionately in love with and while the love cooled in time, it was always present. My Father, the ever High Emperor was infuriated beyond thought. Perhaps it would have been better if I had chosen another marriage date.
For incidentally, the auspicious date we were to be marry coincided with the anniversary of the death of my mother. She was my Fathers favorite, even though she was naught but a concubine whose humble manners surprised the court. It would be assumed that my Father too would pamper me, but it was not to be. We never got along and my banishment from Guanzhong was years in the making. We settled near Qingdao and I, to rub salt in my fathers wound, found work.
I became an official of the Duke of Qingdao whose son and I were and still are friends from birth having been raised together in the Capitol. While my father raged at the Duke with streams of letters coming over the Dadong mountains, I managed my duties as a minor official with great efficiency I might say. Of course, the rampaging hordes of Bladeists marching through Qingdao at the time hardly helped.
They are savages, the word barbarian cannot be used for them. At least the Swade troops were, undisciplined levies who would raid and plunder at will if our forces were not ready to assault them. For the Myocacans however, I have nothing but the highest praise. They are the honorable face of Bladeism, much much more acceptable then their older brothers. They are a splendid people as I learned as I discussed philosophy and other subjects with a Myocacan officer.
He was surprised that I, a minor official, was able to speak Valin and discuss philosophy in that language but after that moment things went along quite well I would say. When I questioned his faith in the Blademaster, unlike the stereotypical Bladeists seen by the Han Elite he calmly responded.
Men have nothing, but faith alone. It was a productive conversation to say the least, and my son seemed infatuated with the Myocacan soldiery.
We had never told our then five year old son my true ancestry and who my father was. I believe that was for his benefit after all. He did not grow up as did many of the ah
well pampered sons and daughters of the Han elite. No, growing up in a small town being naught but the son of a minor official taught him humility and respect. He never knew, in that childhood innocence, that his father would become Emperor. No, not the slightest clue at all.
I am Emperor Shun.