Tian Wu · Memories of the Lost Imperial Capital

Author: Du Ru
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-01-01
Features: This novel tells a tragic story of love, power struggles, and fate. The story unfolds in a mystical world recorded in the Classic of Mountains and Seas, where Zisheng, the original of Gun, who stole the Xirang soil from the heavens at the cost of his life to save the people, is both the father of the great Yu and a Chinese Prometheus; Zhen Hui, though lacking an original, becomes entangled in a love triangle with these two men who were written into history.
At the age of fifteen, I was sent from the Eastern Mansion to the Imperial Capital as the consort of Zhen Chun, a rebel. In my memories, the spring in the Eastern Mansion was always damp. On the day I left, it was drizzling. The leaves of the mountain lotus by the mansion gate glistened with rain, set against the deep red flowers, and I seemed to realize how exquisite and captivating they were. I suppose it was because I was about to leave that the Eastern Mansion appeared more beautiful than usual in my eyes. This made me feel somewhat surprised. I had always thought I had no attachment to the Eastern Mansion, though I was born and raised there. From a young age, I knew that one day I would leave the Eastern Mansion. It wasn’t because of any prophetic ability, but simply because I was the daughter of the Eastern Emperor, so when I grew up, I would be married to a prince or lord’s family, just like the other girls from the Zhen family.
The story of The Dance of Heaven takes place in a mystical world recorded in the Classic of Mountains and Seas. Among the three protagonists, Zisheng’s original is the legendary Shao Hao Emperor from the era of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors; Cheng Huan’s original is Gun, who stole the Xirang soil from the heavens at the cost of his life to save the people, the father of the great Yu, a Chinese Prometheus; Zhen Hui, though lacking an original, becomes entangled in a love triangle with these two men who were written into history. She severed the last strand of connection between us, ruthlessly and without hesitation. As I left, her final glance back revealed the deep, bone-chilling sorrow in her eyes once again. At that moment, I was startled to realize my own numbness. I watched her leave silently, feeling no emotion at all. I saw the last withered leaf fall silently. I heard the wild geese flap their wings in the sky. I heard the wind pass through the curtains. I heard the soft footsteps of the maids coming and going in the corridor. Everything seemed the same. Yet I knew I would never see Cheng Huan’s gentle smile again. I would never hear Cheng Huan’s calm voice again. I experienced the dry, cracking pain once more, as if something within me was shattering, yet I could not shed a single tear.
I remembered a day in the past when Hu Shan made a prophetic remark: “You are destined to be alone.” Now I truly am alone. I thought that in the afterlife, my mother might be able to find what was missing, her soul finally returning to wholeness. But what about me? What can fill the emptiness within me?