Farewell my concubine

The night wind blew silkily, blowing the handsome flag on top of the tent. Inside the tent, a red candle, dripping with candle oil, covered the embossed plate of the bronze candlestice-holder. Out of the pale blue flames, milky plumes of smoke rose with a thin, choking stench. Xiang Yu, the renowned master of the Jiangdong rebellion, stooping slightly forward, propped her knee on her left elbow, holding a lacquered wood chip in her right hand, rustling on a plain drawing, looks master on a tig-skin rug. He had a thick, dark face, a broad, square chin. The thin, proud lips were pressed together, and from the little whirls at the corners of the mouth two tired wrinkles cut deep across the cheeks and extended into the chin. His dark eyes, though lightly covered with a veil of melancholy, when he raised his face, the large black eyes jumped out of the flame that only the innocent eyes of children.

"Nine stones of rice, eight bags of corn and ten bags of cereals. Yu Ji!" He turned to the concubine, who stood still in front of the curtains wiping the blood from her sword. The spark in his eyes lit up her face in the shadow of the curtain. "Yes, we can support two more days. Our army in the east of the river is the smartest. Though there was no rich food to be found in the barren mound of Gaixia, they could net sparrows and dig up earthworms. Let me see -- it takes about a day to get from Gaixia to Weizhou, and from Weizhou to Yingcheng. If you use a new horse, you can get there in a day and a half. Two and a half days... Yu Ji, after three days, our troops from Jiangdong will come to relieve the siege."

"I will, I will." Yu Ji gently dispels the smoke from the candle with a round fan. "Your Majesty, we have only one thousand men, while they have one hundred thousand..."

"Well, they claim a hundred thousand; but today, after our merry slaughter, I reckon it will not be more than seventy-five thousand." He stretched himself. "Today's battle, at any rate, has brought them down a little. I guess they won't dare to challenge me for two days. - Oh, I remember, did you tell the sergeant to prepare the rolling and Rolling Stones?"

"Your Majesty is tired. Please take a rest for a while. Everything has been done as you instructed." She followed her nightly routine. When he was asleep, he put on a cloak, took the candle-holder in one hand, and the candle in the other, and crept out of the tent. The night is still, and in the misty mist little pale tents cover the slope of the earth, and through the cracks of the curtains shine little by little like the red and white wild-bean blossoms that bloom all over the hills on a summer night. The wailing of the horses carried far in the wind, and the night's watch beat and beat, walking at a monotonous pace around the camp. Yu Ji wrapped her cloak tightly and covered the light of the candle with her wide cuffs to prevent it from being blown out. The defenders' spears gleamed in the darkness. The smell of horse manure, blood, hay, hung quietly in the clear night air.

She stopped at a tent and listened to the sounds inside.

Two soldiers were playing dice, betting their rations for the next day, and a dreamy old soldier was mumbling about the flavor of the sweet rice in his hometown.

Yu Ji left them gently.

Her second stop was in front of the wooden fence at the front. The slope is cluttered with chopped roots, studs, sandbags, rocks, clay. Sentries paced to and fro with their spears, and red lanterns swayed in the crenellations, tinting half the sky with a pale red glow. She carefully blew out the candle, bent her hand against the fence, and looked down the hill; The thick and fierce light, twinkling like fireflies in a summer nest, was the camp where the king of Han and the hundred thousand mighty men he had gathered around him were gathered in clouds and rain.

Yu Ji held up her cheeks and thought. The cold wind was blowing in her face, making the streamers on her shoulders tremble. Suddenly she felt cold and empty, just as she always felt when she left Xiang Wang. If he were the sun blazing, full of wearier brilliance, and bursting with the flame of dazzling ambition, she was the moon that bore and reflected his light and power. She followed him like a shadow, through the dark and stormy night, through the inhuman terror of the battlefield, through hunger, fatigue, restlessness, forever. When the rebel leader rode by in a storm on his famous black horse, eight thousand children east of the river could always see Yu Ji, the pale, smiling woman clutching the REINS, her pale, crimson brocade cloak biltering in the wind. For more than ten years she had taken his ambition as hers, his victory as hers, his pain as hers. However, whenever he was asleep and she went out alone with her candle in her hand, she began to think of her own affairs. She wondered what her purpose in this world was. He lives. He lives for his ambition. He knew how to use his sabre, his spear, and his Jiangdong sons to get his crown. But what about her? She was but a faint echo of his high-pitched hero's roar, subsiding, subsiding, till at last it was dead. If his ambition succeeds --

At the foot of the hill, in the Han camp, a sentry blew his painting horn in a low voice. The faint and sad horn sound, monotonous and clumsy, but full of sorrow on the battlefield, echoed under the clear night sky. A big star in the sky gradually dimmed. She felt a hot tear fall on the back of her own hand. Oh, what would she gain if he succeeded? She will be given the title of "nobleman" and she will receive a sentence of life imprisonment. She would put on palace makeup and spend all day shut up in the gloomy, ancient house of Zhaohua Hall, enjoying the moonlight and flowers outside the Windows and the loneliness inside. She was getting old, and he was tired of her, and countless other brilliant meteors flew into the sky that he and she shared, shutting out the sunshine in which she had bathed for more than ten years. She no longer reflected his light upon her; she was an eclipsed moon, dark, sad, muffled, mad. When she ended the life she had lived for him, they would give her the posthumous title of "Lady Duan Shu" or "Lady Xian Mu", a beautiful wooden coffin of agarwood, and three or four dead slaves. This was the crown of her life. She hated and feared her own thoughts.

"No, no, I'm thinking too much tonight! Stop it, stop my thoughts!" She bowed her head and clenched her fists, her nails digging deep into the flesh, her small, pointed chin face blue and quivering like apricot leaves in the wind. "Go back! Just one look at his sleeping face, and maybe I'll stop thinking."

She took up the candlestick, and called a nearby sentry to come and light her candle with his lantern. As she drew up her cloak and wind to turn, she suddenly stopped. From the camp of the enemy soldiers at the foot of the hill came a low, idle, lazy voice singing a little tune. Far, far away, the words are not clear, however, the wind is blowing towards the mountains, you can hear clearly the popular folk song "Sister Luo Fu" in the country of Chu. At first only a trembling, lonely voice sang, but perhaps the soldier's nostalgia was stirred by the faint moonlight, and the camp began to sing in chorus on all sides. "Sister Luo Fu" finished singing, a low roar of laughter, then sang "Crying the Great Wall". Yu Ji stood motionless, at first a little perplexed.

"Do they often sing this?" "She asked the sentry who was lighting her candle.

"Yes," said the old soldier, winking under the lantern and smiling. "We're all a little incredulous that those Northern men have such fine throats."

Yu Ji did not speak, her candlestick in her hand quivered wildly. There was a crash, and the lanterns and candles were blown out. In the gloom, her black eyes stared forward, twinkling like opals, and she saw the terrible truth.

When the sentry had lit her candle again, she hurried back to the tent with the handsome flag. She stood by the king's couch with her candle held high. He was fast asleep, his body curled slightly, his hand tucked under his pillow, clutching a wisp knife. He was one of those people who was always young; Though the tangled hair on his forehead was a few grey stems, and the sharp edges of time had cut deep creases in his hard forehead, there was still in his sleeping face the frankness and obstinacy of a baby. His thick eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his nose had a stubborn air, and his noble lips hung down a little, as if they were made to give orders.

Yu Ji looked at him -- no, no, she could not wake him up to tell him all the misery. At least he was happy now; He was dreaming that reinforcements were coming. Perhaps he was dreaming that Liu Bang's squadron was scattered between the two sides. Perhaps he was dreaming that he was once again the leader of his vassals, that he had crossed his black horses and entered Xianyang.

A bead of sweat congealed on Yu Ji's face. She caught a glimpse of the sword hanging from the awning -- if -- if he had suddenly stopped breathing while dreaming of future glory -- if, for instance, the sword had suddenly fallen from the awning and plunged into his breast -- she was shocked by her own thoughts. Beads of sweat ran down her beautiful bluish cheeks. The glow of the red candle shrank to the size of a broad bean. Xiang turned over in bed. "Your Majesty, Your Majesty..." She heard her own hoarse voice cry.

Suddenly King Xiang sat up and pulled his knife out of its sheath.

"What's the matter, Yu Ji? Has anyone come to raid the camp?"

"No, no. But there's something worse than that. Your Majesty, listen."

They stood by the door of the tent. "Sister Luo Fu" has come to an end, but the chorus of soldiers more, the sad, simple beat from the foot of the mountains leisurely spread. "Are the captives in the east of the river longing for home?" After a pause, Xiang Wang said. "Your Majesty, the singing is coming from all around."

"Oh, how -- how are the Chu in the Han Army?"

There was a deathly silence, except for the distant hiss of horses.

"Has -- has Liu Bang done all he can?"

Yu Ji's heart was in pain. When she saw Xiang Wang's stubborn lips turning white and his eyes shining like cold glass, the look of those eyes staring forward was so terrible that she could not help covering them with her wide sleeves. She could feel his lashes fluttering in her palms, and she felt a cold stream of tears rolling from her hands to her arms, knowing for the first time that the heroic traitor was also a weeping animal.

"Poor thing... Poor..." The words below were unintelligible, and her pale lips moved softly. He shook off her hand and shuffled back to the tent. She followed and saw him crouched on the couch, with his head in his hands. Only a thumb's length remained of the candle. The clear light of dawn had penetrated the veil. "Give me some wine." "He said, raising his eyes. He leaned his hand on his knee and smiled at her, as he carried the amber-glowing glass in his hand.

"Yu Ji, we are finished. I had some doubts, why Jiangdong did not transport grain to Gaidown. There's no use talking about the past. There's only one thing we can do now -- get out. In this state of affairs, we are destined to be trapped animals under siege, but we are not to be hunted, we are to be hunters. Tomorrow -- oh, no, today -- today is my last hunt. I will break a bloody path and step over the helmets of the Han Army! Hum, that Liu Bang, he thinks I have been put in a cage? I have at least one more chance of a pleasant hunt, and perhaps my shotgun will Pierce his heart as I have pierced a valuable sable. Put on your Persian armour, Yu Ji. You must follow me until the last minute. We're all going to die on horseback." "Your Majesty, I think you understand me," Yu Ji lowered her head and kept her hand on the fringe of the knife beside King Xiang's pillow. "This is your last battle, and I want you to give full play to your powers and enjoy the slaughter. I will not follow you behind, distract you, worry about me, protect me, and make the army in the east of the river laugh at you for losing your ability to fight for a woman."

"Well, stay behind and let the soldiers of the Han army find you and present you to Liu Bang." Yu Ji smiled. Quickly she drew the knife out of its sheath, and with a single thrust it went deep into her breast. Xiang Yu rushed to support her by the waist, her hand still clinging to the gold-encrusted hilt, and his big eyes, bright as fire and tears, bent down to look at her. She opened her eyes, and then, as if unable to bear the glare, closed them again. Xiang Yu put his ear to her quivering lips, and he heard her saying something he did not understand: "I prefer that kind of tapering."

When her body began to get cold, Xiang pulled the knife out of her chest and wiped the blood off his uniform. Then, with grated teeth, and a voice like the roar of a grunting boar, he cried: "Sergeant, blow the horn! Tell us to saddle up our horses, and we'll rush down the hill!"