Remembering Two Brothers

Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

—Jesus, 33 AD

(Note: This story is based on a historical event, the Xin-Tai Scandal, which is briefly depicted in Yang (2002) and an old historical novel, Chronicles of the Eastern Zhou Kingdoms (completed around the mid-1700s). I wrote the story based on the stated facts, and also reconstructed many details from my imagination of what should or might have happened.)

China, 701 BC.

A small kingdom, Wei, had a scandal. The king was a pervert, a much nastier version of Hafner. When he was young, he had sex with one of his father’s wives, and the woman gave birth to a son, Ji-Zi.

Ji-Zi grew up. Because he was the oldest, he became the crown prince, and it was time to find a spouse for him. The king politely asked a big kingdom’s king if he was willing to give one of his daughters to be the bride. A princess was sent.

However, when this pervert king heard about how beautiful the princess was, that organ in his pants again became the decision-maker. He first built a big lavish palace called Xin-Tai, then sent Ji-Zi away to another kingdom as a diplomat. The moment his son left, he welcomed the beautiful princess to the new palace and married her.

The princess gave birth to two sons, the older one was named Shou.

When Shou grew up, the princess, now the consort, calculated: the crown prince Ji-Zi could be a threat to her son Shou. Or an obstacle at least. When Ji-Zi ascended the throne, what would he do to Shou, another potential heir? To her? Her other son? Plus, if Shou could be the crown prince, she’d have secured her position and power as well.

Meanwhile, the pervert king didn’t like Ji-Zi either because of guilt that turned into hatred and self-protection. Will he take revenge because I took his woman? The king wanted to dethrone Ji-Zi and gave the title to Shou, the oldest son of his love.

The consort saw this opportunity, and along with her younger son, started whispering made-up rumors about Ji-Zi to the king’s ear. The king was mad like a stupid, hot-tempered donkey being kicked in the butt. Absolute power corrupts; it turns parents and children against each other. He decided to murder his own son.

The plan: the king would send Ji-Zi on a boat to another kingdom as a diplomat. Every diplomat’s boat would hang a white bull’s tail on a pole. The pervert king secretly hired some of his people disguised as robbers and gave the order: “Go wait at the destination. When you see the boat with a white bull’s tail, kill the person on that boat.”

It was a simple and perfect plan, but there were two complications they didn’t anticipate: first, Shou—the one who would greatly benefit from this devilish scheme, probably saw his parents acting funny, poked around and learned the whole thing.

Second, Shou and Ji-Zi were more than half-brothers. They were best friends.

**

Ji-Zi and Shou were standing next to each other watching the boats on the river and the green mountains far away. The sun rose, painted the sky and the water yellow and red like fire.

“It’s about time,” Ji-Zi said, “I’ll have to leave now.”

Shou turned to look at him, eyes turned red. “Please, big brother… please don’t go. You’ll die…” he choked.

“I have to, you know that. I can’t be a disobedient son. Plus, I have nowhere to go. This might just be a misunderstanding… but if it’s true, if Father really wants to kill me…” he gently patted Shou’s shoulder, “I’m glad the kingdom will be yours. You’ll be a great king, I know it.”

“I don’t care about that,” Shou wiped his face.

“Hey, brother, it’s okay. It’s okay, alright?”

Shou dropped more tears. Ji-Zi sighed, “brother, my kid brother, I’m not afraid of death. I’ll be fine. This is something I have to do. If I die, promise me you’ll be a good king.”

Shou gradually stopped crying. “Okay,” he nodded, with a new determination on his face. “Then let us have the last drink to say goodbye. I have all the wine, it’s in my boat. I’ll meet you at your boat.”

“Sure.”

They sat on the floor facing each other with a low table between them. “You surely brought a lot of wine,” Ji-Zi looked at the jars next to Shou.

“This is our last drink, we should enjoy ourselves,” Shou poured a full cup.

“Now, brother, I’m leaving soon, probably shouldn’t drink too much…”

But Shou pushed the cup to him. However, a drop of tear fell into the cup. “Sorry, it’s dirty now…” Shou was going to take the cup back, but Ji-Zi stopped him and took the cup: “I’d love to drink it; it’s your affection.”

He drank it up.

Shou wiped away tears, filled the cup again. “This is our farewell. If you don’t mind, let’s drink some more for my sake.”

With tearful eyes, Ji-Zi nodded: “Alright.”

Shou poured himself a cup. “Big brother, can you tell me again why you’d lived in the village till 16?”

Ji-Zi frowned and smiled: “You know that.”

“I know. Tell me anyway; I want to hear it.”

“Alright. My mother was one of Grandfather’s wives, Father of course wanted to hide this scandal from everyone, so he sent me to live with a peasant family. They treated me like their own son. Then Father became the king, he wasn’t afraid of anyone anymore, so he brought me back.”

“The family was so kind. Let’s have a drink for their sake,” Shou filled up the cup for him, then also raised up his own cup.

“Of course,” Ji-Zi nodded. Shou looked at him drinking the whole cup, then right away filled it up again. “So, how was your life with the family? Do you miss it? What did they teach you?”

Ji-Zi’s face was turning red, “uh… maybe I should stop…”

“No, big brother, we should drink for old time’s sake.”

“Yes, indeed, but…”

“It’s for me,” Shou’s eyes were tearing up again.

“Alright, okay, sure…” he drank, then said: “So as I said, the family was very kind to me, especially the mama… she has 5 other kids, every New Year’s Eve she’d bake us kids rice cake…”

After quite a few more cups, Ji-Zi’s head was spinning. “Wow, this wine… strong…” looking at Shou, he smiled: “Kid brother, I used to hold you when you were a baby, do you remember? Oh, wait, of course you don’t,” he laughed, “you liked fireflies and tadpoles, I brought you to the river and we caught a bunch. We hung the fireflies up at night in the garden, it was beautiful.”

“I remember,” Shou nodded, smiled: “I’d wanted to go to the river every day until you were tired and sick of it, but I’d beg and beg and every time you’d give in. We’d spend the whole afternoon there, you’d either be reading or telling me stories, I’d catch some weird bugs or fish to show you…”

“Yeah, it was a great time. You’d shown me and your sister so many strange things and you were so proud of it… now you’re a great man, you’ll be a great king…” Ji-Zi slowly closed his eyes, but then opened them up, “what time is it?”

“Still early, don’t worry. You grew up with the common people, that’s why you’re so kind and humble, even though you’re a crown prince…”

“No, you… hmm, you’re kinder. You grew up with royalty, and yet you’re always so thoughtful and honest… you probably think I didn’t know, but when your mother told Father that I flirted with her, you made sure he knew it wasn’t true. Every time you heard a rumor about me, you went to Father and persuaded him it was a lie, didn’t you?”

Shou raised his eyebrows, “yes, I did…” then lowered his head, “but it’s not enough; all useless. They still want you dead.”

“It’s all about power, there’s nothing you can do. Brother, you’re one in a million…” Ji-Zi lightly groaned, “Now I’m tired,” he shook his head, tried to stand up, but then fell on the floor. Shou helped him lie down.

“I’ve got to go…” Ji-Zi weakly said, but then passed out drunk.

Shou stood up, gathered all the servants and announced: “My brother is drunk, but the king’s order must be fulfilled, I should go for him.” He then took the white bull’s tail and tied it on the boat, “my servants will come with me on the crown prince’s boat. The crown prince’s servants will wait here on my boat for him.” He then took a piece of bamboo slip, wrote something on it, and gave it to one of Ji-Zi’s servants: “Give it to the crown prince when he wakes up.”

Everyone was ready. Shou looked at Ji-Zi for one last time, softly whispered: “Goodbye, big brother.”

**

Ji-Zi slowly woke up, “wait, what time is it? Shou? Brother?” he right away questioned, “where’s Shou?”

The servant presented him the bamboo slip: “He left you with this.”

It read: “I’m going for you. Run.”

“No!” Ji-Zi cried like his chest was punched by a big heavy rock, he shouted: “Go! Go! Go! Go catch up my brother!”

He and the servants rode on Shou’s boat with full speed. “Please… please… please… Shou, don’t die… heaven, please let him live… I’ll do anything, I’ll do anything; please let him live…” his heart was about to burst out of his rib cage, his hands were icy cold, and his wide-opened eyes staring at the end of the river never even blinked.

It was getting dark. The moon rose, illuminated the water silver. Finally, a boat appeared on the horizon. “Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!” Ji-Zi held his fists so tight the knuckles turned white, “catch up with it! Catch up with it!”

“Your highness,” a servant carefully said, “this boat is coming back, not going…”

Ji-Zi’s heart sank. When the boats meet, he stopped the coming boat and boarded. There were about 10 people, all staring at him. He pretended to be in the plan: “Is it done?”

They became relaxed. “So you’re with the king? Here,” a guy pointed at a door behind him.

Ji-Zi started shaking. He stumbled to the door and opened it. There lay Shou’s lifeless body covered in blood. With trembling hands, Ji-Zi held up Shou’s head: his eyes were half-closed, his face was pale like ashes. He remembered Shou’s face as a baby sleeping in his arms, as a toddler smiling at him, a young boy looking up to him, as a young man full of hope… then this morning begging him sobbing.

He died for me.

“Shou… my brother… my dear little brother…” he held the dead body so tightly and started wailing like his chest was breaking open, his heart was torn into pieces, “no… my dear brother… my little brother…”

Everyone looked at each other in shock and puzzlement.

Then he turned to the killers, screamed violently: “You killed the wrong person! I’m the one you’re supposed to kill!”

“What?” one killer frowned.

“I’m Ji-Zi! He’s my little brother Shou! He died for me! He died for me! You’re supposed to kill Ji-Zi! I’m Ji-Zi, kill me! Kill me! Kill me!”

They hesitated, but they couldn’t afford any mistake. One slowly raised the bloody sword high. It reflected the light from the torch.

**

The locals learned about this story. They built a 30-feet tall monument to remember these two brothers. It’s still standing today.

Some legends say that their younger sister (either Ji-Zi’s full sister or Shou’s, needs more investigation, but difficult cause there’s no historical records about this sister—not even a name), upon hearing her two brothers’ death, ran away looking for them. But probably too heartbroken, she soon got sick and died in a small village. Some said she committed suicide. The village was named “sister’s grave,” and a road was later named “the Princess Road.” They’re still there.

If this were fictional, the pervert king, the consort, and her younger son should have all suffered and died. But this is history. The pervert king did die in less than a year, the historical novel says he died due to remorse, but I’m not so sure. The consort remarried—to Ji-Zi’s full younger brother. It was a demotion and somehow “unethical,” but she probably lived a peaceful life and gave birth to a few more children; one of the daughters even became arguably the first Chinese female poet on record, and a patriot who saved the kingdom.

The younger son became the king as he’d wished. Ji-Zi’s and Shou’s followers on the royal court rebelled and chased him out, but he managed to come back with foreign aid and killed the rebel leaders. Though was quite unpopular and probably never enjoyed stable, full control—because there were still quite a few people loyal to Ji-Zi and Shou—he lived happily for another 30 years.

Quite a few classic poems created at that time mocking these three clowns are still read today.

The monument, a village, and a road named after them are for us to remember their story, and we’ll never, ever forget. But personally, I think they’ve been together since the moment they sacrificed for each other. Death is not the end, it’s only another beginning—and they’re continuing the journey, side by side, into eternity and longer.

Reference

Yang, B. (2002). An outline of Chinese history. Taipei: Yuan-Liou Publishing.