The purple indian nation is taken (Chola). I'm assuming you meant the Asia indian nation.
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Port of Nanjing
There was a clear breeze in the air. The sea was calm this day, the waves small and slow. The situation on the harbour, however, was quite the opposite. The labouring men hustle from one shack to another, trying their best to clean the normally ‘decorated’ pier and roads alike. Some have no clue why this was happening. These men continue their usual business; stalls of specialized merchandize that ranges from fans (with delicate female figures drawn on them) to the fishes that they claim are freshly caught from the sea.
For these people, their businesses were extra profitable today. Although the port draws a large number of people daily, today was different. The road leading to the pier was packed. At the front were many officials and soldiers. They seemed to be waiting for something, but wouldn’t reveal what it is. Naturally, these people attracted attention to the area, which translates to more businesses for the stalls.
Choy Yan (Choy is the last name. Get use to this for all Chinese stories I write…

was one of the officials waiting, and he was nervous. Part of the reason was because of the company he was with currently. Unknown to the general public, a royalty was among them, or that’s what he heard from a drunken guard the night prior. Who the royalty was exactly, he had no clue. The real reason he was nervous, was because in a short moment, he will be the center of attention of the entire party, and likely the entire nation.
Words have been sent a month ago of the arrival of a foreign fleet in the port of Saigon. This information alone wasn’t new; fleets from the Chola and other neighbouring nations (when they were at peace anyway) travel to Saigon all the time. This report received little attention, until a courier happened to continue reading after the first sentence (he was quite bored that day). Then the domino effect began. First order of business was the sacking of the local official for not making it clear whom the fleet belonged to. After a series of brief negotiation with Chola merchants acting as the communication bridge, it was decided that certain members aboard the Roman fleet will continue their journey to Dadu. Along the way, they will stop at Nanjing, because that was as far as the Chola merchants were willing to travel. They needed another person who speaks the roman tongue, and that task falls on Choy Yan.
To tell the truth, Choy Yan doesn’t speak the roman language. He couldn’t have, for whom could he practice it with? He was a historian, and he mainly studied the nations of the west. He was especially interested in Persia, a long time trading partner of the various dynasties of China. Along the way he came upon several texts regarding the Romans, the great qin state of the west as the Han called them. One could imagine his surprise when one morning he was whisked off from his small home and brought to Nanjing, where he was told that he would be translating for the government. After a lengthy explanation, it was agreed that he will “try his best” (which equaled his head separated from his body if he embarrass China in anyway, intentional or not). To his credit, he spent the last month studying every roman text he could lay his hands on, and received much help from the local merchants who traded with the Romans before. Despite this, however, as the 3 chinese junk ships and the one western ship appear out of the horizon, Yan still can’t help but regret once again why he chose to study Persian history instead of Japan or Annam.