The Qin and I: A Tale of a wise Yushi

一章 - Chapter One: The Accidental Alchemist

 偶然的炼金术士   

"What do we know about ourselves?

We think we know everything until we learn from our mistakes."

It's a fundamental aspect of our nature to seek knowledge, for it is through understanding that we find the crossroads between honor and disgrace, shaped by our decisions. To err is human. Yet, for an Emperor to rise above the mortal realm, he must embrace these lessons, nurturing the Empire and its people towards prosperity.

As a seeker of wisdom, I've often wondered, "What honor is there in burdening another's robes with gold and jade?" The answers vary as widely as the stars, with each observer drawing unique conclusions. Some argue that the giving of taxes is essential for ensuring one's safety and the security of the realm, while others view it as a heavy chain on their shoulders.

Through my reflections, I've come to understand that true power doesn't reside in the accumulation of wealth or the expanse of territories but in the pursuit of knowledge and the ability to influence. Those who dedicate themselves to the quest for understanding hold the capability to reshape history, regardless of their social standing or wealth. True legacies aren't built on the material possessions one accumulates but on the lasting impacts one has on society.

Over time, individual stories become intertwined into more complex narratives, and truth unfolds in layers. This is especially true in the imperial city of Xianyang, where the echoes of its majestic antiquity resonate. In my relentless pursuit of new insights and understanding, this journey toward truth is the highest form of honor.

Before my story is lost to time or dismissed as mere folly, allow me to guide you down the rough path that reshaped my life and share the wisdom I've acquired from the pivotal events that lie ahead.

I am Li Wei, a young thinker and performer from the sprawling farms west of the capitol. I lived a life of hard work and humble meals, often walking long distances scouring the local square and market for any passerby interested in my spectacles. By spectacles, I refer to my little displays of smoke and sizzle that, for years, I've perfected thanks to keen observation and time spent with my family.

In the dim light of my Father's forge, amidst the clang of hammer on the anvil and the roar of the flames, I discovered a fascination that would alter the course of my life. In the heart of our humble village, it was here that the first wings of my tail began to unfurl, carried on the wind of colored fire.

"My son," my Father began one evening, his voice a mixture of amusement and pride,

"You seem more captivated by the flames than the metalwork they forge."

His observation was not misplaced. While my hands were skilled enough in the art of the smithy, the dance of the flames indeed held me spellbound. Each time a new metal was introduced to the fire, I watched, entranced, as the flames changed color—copper turning them a mesmerizing green, iron sparking with tiny stars. To the seasoned blacksmiths, these were but common occurrences, mere byproducts of their craft. But to me, they were nothing short of magic.

"Father," I ventured one day, my curiosity getting the better of me, "have you ever wondered why the flames change color with different metals?" I asked, hoping to delve deeper into the mystery.

He chuckled, setting aside his work to give me his full attention. "Ah, Wei, the mysteries of the forge are many, but to us, they are as familiar as the back of our hands. Each metal sings its song in the fire, and in turn, the fire dances to its tune. It's all a matter of elements reacting to the heat."