brrn doing it for years – and that sent the loan sharks away. Ying’s mother was chronically ill. In such a
penniless family, medicine was but a luxury. With hands tied, their only way for survival was to borrow money
from the loan sharks. Yes, the interest rate was unbelievably high, but they could do nothing with it. When Ying
was still in academy, the scholarships he got could merely pay off the debts. However, together with Ying’s
graduation, their family’s only income, Ying’s scholarship, had fled away. They could not meet the debts.
Ying looked at his moribund mother, lying vulnerably on the mat. She was pale like snow. Ying’s sister
was shivering hysterically, though she tried hard to keep it from her brother. Ying had a dreadful colic.
“
Being a government official is the only way out,” Ying thought to himself. “I can get money. Loads of
money.”
The other day, Ying sallied forth early in the dawn. He greeted the official politely, thinking of getting his
job back. However, the official was obviously hopping mad. Unlike yesterday, the official didn’t even bother to
take a quick look at Ying.
Sarcastically the official said, “Oh, our friend of justice!” He snickered. “Why don’t you be our runner to
inspect the crimes? You know, so feeble the people are.”
Ying almost reached his boiling point, but he tried hard to cool himself down. “Sure!” He replied
reluctantly. He had already prepared to collude with those corrupted.
Ying started to clique with the officials. He indulged himself in pleasure and took up smoking. Whenever
people came for justice, he gave them perfunctoriness instead. People no longer stand by the sides to welcome
him – they were but very much frightened, and fled away whenever they saw him.
“
How dare you lie to the majestic Yamen!” Ying scolded a wrinkled woman as he kicked her into a ball.
“
Take the valuable with us, and break everything else!” The woman looked at him with tears flashing in her
eyes. “You deserve the punishment. For your evil deeds.” Ying said in cold blood.
Years went by. Ying was no longer a Yamen runner in a small county. He was again greatly respected –
not just in the village, but the whole country. He was the mover and shaker. Troops of people surrounded him
and devoted their lifetimes to serve him. Each word spoken through his mouth made a gigantic difference.
He was the first emperor ever in Chinese history – Qin Shi Huang.
Emperor Qin spent his days in extreme enjoyment each day. He got tens of thousands of odalisques to
satisfy his wishes, but he was indeed, dearly lonely. Back in those times when he was struggling to climb up the
social ladder, he was too dedicated and never went home for a visit. No, not even once. Going back to the slum
was the least thing he wanted to do. He had tried too hard to escape from it – he could not let his efforts to end
up in vain. Since the day he took the job as a Yamen runner, he had regarded himself an orphan.
“
Your majesty, there is a woman pledging to see you,” the guard reported. “She claimed to be your sister.”
Qin allowed. From the door came a yielding woman. She was slim and undersized. With her quivering
steps, she warily came to Qin and knelt down. She had languished a lot, but Qin knew it was his sister.
“
Mom has passed away,” calmly she lipped. “Three years after you were gone.”
Qin forced himself not to seem too surprised. He looked away, quickly and silently.
His sister added, “I’m here just to inform you this. Whether you feel sympathetic – it’s up to you.” And,
she left.
Qin was left in jolt. Deep under his still face hid waves of powerful billows.
Had he not been a firm Confucian, he would have started as a financial secretary. No way was he climbing
up from the bottommost. Maybe – he could have achieved success in a shorter time; and maybe – he could
spend the time with his family.
Qin was lost in tides of memories. He remembered the days he used to play hide-and-seek with his
adorable sister in the vacancy miles away from home. It was a desolate piece of land. Timber pieces and rubbles
made it the best for hiding. There was this one time that Qin, then called Ying, was the seeker, and his sister was
the one to hide. Ying spent a whole afternoon looking for his sister, but he just couldn’t find her. He started to
panic and that he cried and cried, loud enough to wake the dead bodies from the coffins. Suddenly, somewhere
gave out a yawn. Ying traced the yawn to a suspicious tree. Night arose and gale started to blow. He noticed
changes in the shadow of the tall tree. He was having kittens, but he could only bite the bullet. There, he saw his
beloved sister, shaking uncontrollably in the wind – exactly like the day the loan sharks came. Everything was
so nice then. Qin had got a warm family, with his lovely sister and loving mother; since when did the warmth
fade? Since when did the family break apart? Since when did they become strangers?
Qin was buried in depression. It was Confucianism’s bad. If Confucianism had never come across his life,
he would not have had sacrificed so much. “Burn the books,” he ordered. “And bury the scholars.”
It was the controversial “burning of books and burying of scholars” proposed by Emperor Qin Shi Huang.
Seeing the “words of wisdom” being burnt had become the largest pleasure of Qin. He loved watching
them turn into ashes. It brought him satisfaction. He also loved watching the scholars struggle to survive with