It has been such a long time since the lands have seen rain. The drought parches China's throat and he hungers with his people who suffer the famine despite not needing sustenance like humans do.
This farce of a dynasty is barely established and already teetering on the brink of collapse. China can feel it in his bones; they ache with the grinding of teeth, the corruption and impotence of the government. He can read it in the stars; they portend its fall from heaven's favour, but Wang Mang never truly had it, his ill-fated reign merely a catalyst to rouse the one who bears the genuine mandate into action.
With the demise of one dynasty, another shall rise.
This too, he can feel in the roaring of his blood - the misery and anger of the people, the land in chaos as conditions grow unbearable, and most importantly, the excitement of impending change as the ambitious and idealistic seek to restore the fallen Han empire.
The midday sun beats down on the land and China's straw hat as he looks straight ahead, at the gates of a little county named Xinye. It is time to pay dear Liu Xiu a visit. The man has been farming just a little too long and destiny beckons.
China shuffles forward, slender frame aided by a sturdy branch he found broken on the ground by a withered peach tree. The drought and famine, while not fatal, has nevertheless taken its toll on him.
A short trek and China finds himself standing before a humble shack, so nondescript nobody would give it a second glance, much less think to find the one who has the Mandate of Heaven dwelling within. He raises his stick and raps thrice.
Not a moment later, old wooden doors creak open to reveal a twenty-eight-year-old man, taller than himself, fairly handsome with clean features despite a slightly large mouth. Liu Xiu wipes an arm across his brow, hot and sweaty from having just returned from the fields and looks at his visitor curiously.
"You are ...?"
"Hello, Wenshu." China smiles as he removes his hat, hanging it on his stick which he then props against the wall. "May I come in?"
"How did- a-ah, of course. How remiss of me." Liu Xiu hastily steps aside. "Please, have a seat, although I'm afraid I have only coarse tea to offer by way of hospitality."
"These days, one would be thankful for a drop of water at all. What you offer is a feast," China smiles in thanks.
As the host busies himself, China settles on a stool by the hearth, grateful for the insulation the mud walls provide from the heat outside, and looks at his surroundings - sparsely furnished, simple and neat for a bachelor. It is not a home, simply a roof over one's head.
Meanwhile, Liu Xiu discreetly studies his peculiar visitor. The man can't be older than twenty-five, dressed from top to toe in light, white, expensive mulberry silk that has seen better days. The robes are slightly stained at the hem from the dust on the ground but the man either does not notice, or does not care. Liu Xiu's gaze travels upwards ... to an amused expression on the other man's face and he freezes, flushing at having been caught rudely staring.
Before Liu Xiu has the chance to stutter a clumsy apology, that he'd meant no disrespect, China speaks first.
"The field is no place for an emperor."
At that, Liu Xiu forgets his embarrassment and lets out a bark of laughter. "Not this again! I am flattered but look at me; look at this," he gestures at his modest hut. "Do you truly believe in those prophecies?"
China thanks him for the tea and arches a brow. "Not in the silly chèn yǔ that has everyone in a frenzy these days, no. That is mere superstition. And fabrication, if one decides to be unscrupulous."
"Then why do you utter such words, that if fallen into the wrong ears, could get us both killed?"
"My dear boy-"
Liu Xiu stiffens at the slight, just barely, but China picks up on it. We will have to work on your bearing. Rulers cannot be this easily riled, or let it show. He smiles and holds up a hand in mild apology.
"You are so very young to me. I have been around long before your grandfathers were born, and will be around long after your grandchildren are dead, bound to the land and the people, for better or for worse. I am not omniscient, many things are beyond my control, but I have communed with the heavens for thousands of summers, and I am privy to celestial secrets hidden from even the best of your astrologers."
China's words weave around Liu Xiu like a spell and he listens, entranced despite himself, that he doesn't even realise when he'd seated himself adjacent to his visitor by the small square hearth.
"So while I find the current methods of 'divination' laughable, they have hit the mark this time because you, Liu Wenshu, are an open secret, one even the most uninspired fortune teller can pick up on," he finishes with a tiny twinkle in his eyes, and Liu Xiu might've imagined it, but the other man sounded almost fond.
He looks even younger than I am but speaks such grand, preposterous words; he dresses like a gentleman but walks around with his hair unbound. I should dismiss him and yet deep down, I cannot help but feel he's telling the truth, and that I know him, somehow.
"If everything is as you claim, wouldn't it be dangerous to reveal such information to a stranger? Aren't you afraid I'd use it against you? Immortality is something many men lust after."
China gives him a grim smile. "And look what happened with Zhao Zheng - ah, it would be Shi Huangdi to you. Besides, are you sure you want to live forever?"
"... no, I do not think it is necessarily a blessing, especially if one has to endure it alone," Liu Xiu says, thinking of Yin Lihua and a small smile blossoms across his face.
"Then we have an understanding." China tilts his head and gives Liu Xiu a knowing sideways glance.
Liu Xiu still isn't entirely sure if he can believe what his mysterious guest is claiming, but he does have a question he nevertheless voices.
"If anyone is to reclaim the throne, shouldn't it be my older brother Liu Yan? He is the popular, charismatic one, the one who is organising the uprising against Wang Mang. I am but a simple farmer."
China laughs. "There is nothing simple about you, O descendant of Emperor Jing! You manage to harvest enough to feed yourself with surplus to sell, when all other crops have failed and people are dying of starvation. You tend the fields, yet are not ignorant of current affairs. You may not have been a distinguished student, but you have established a network of capable friends from your time in Chang'an. Your reputation is that of a careful and trustworthy man. Thus far you have patiently bided your time. Now I am telling you, that time has come."
Sobering, he continues, "Your brother ... paves the way for you. In a manner of speaking."
At that statement, Liu Xiu frowns. "No, it has always been his wish to restore the Han. He would not be paving the way for me, though I would be willing to assist him in his endeavours if I had to. I have my ambitions, what man does not? But they have never been as grand as becoming emperor, and if I were to join my brother in the uprising, it would merely be to restore peace and the glory days of our ancestors. I would never fight him for the throne."
You will not have to.
China searches Liu Xiu's eyes for a moment, finds them a little too honest, a little too inexperienced, and his heart breaks for this man who has yet to truly experience war and loss. Yet it is only in this loss that one of China's greatest emperors in history will emerge from his chrysalis. He debates within himself if he should say more, but decides against it. Ignorance is bliss, on this matter, at least. He was only here to set things in motion, not overstep boundaries. Carefully, China reaches over, places a hand on the other man's shoulder and gives it a squeeze, a gesture of comfort Liu Xiu knows not what for.
"I only came here to tell you, that you must go with your brother. Join his efforts. And remember, heaven is on your side even if it might not seem that way at times. I am also on your side."
Slightly unnerved by the sombre turn this conversation has taken, Liu Xiu can only remain silent, filled with a sudden dread ironically springing forth from that warm, comforting hand on his shoulder.
"I am aware that this will not be easy, but who are you, exactly? How do you know so much about me?"
"Who am I?" China gets to his feet languidly, using Liu Xiu's shoulder as a convenient crutch and finally answers the question that had been plaguing the man's mind from the moment his strange guest appeared on his doorstep.
When China opens his mouth again, Liu Xiu swears the very air and ground vibrates with each word the other speaks. He looks up and is immediately sucked into deep, black, fathomless eyes that seem to stretch into the cosmos and back to a time when the Yellow Emperor himself walked these lands.
"I am the fields and plains, the mountains and valleys, the rivers and lakes. I am these lands, the keeper of its memories. I am the people; I only have to look at them to know who they are. I am this very empire itself. Your. Empire."
The world continues to rumble in the last vestiges of an echo as China pulls back, and then all is silent.
One heartbeat, then two, three four five six seven.
Liu Xiu is shaken to the core. All lingering doubts disappear and he can only stare in awe as China casually makes his way to the door, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He pauses there and gives the future emperor one more look and a smile over his shoulder.
"We will meet again, dear Wenshu, and the next time, I shall have to kneel before you."
By the time Liu Xiu snaps out of his daze, he rushes to the door only to find his visitor gone. He would've wondered if it had been nothing but a dream, but the empty tea cup, the straw hat and stick still leaning against his wall say otherwise.
Notes: Liu Xiu, courtesy name Wenshu, Emperor Guangwu of Han (13 January 5 BC - 29 March 57), was known as the "restorer of the Han" and the founder of the Later/Eastern Han Dynasty. He's got a couple of fanboys in future emperors and leaders.
This fic is set in 22 AD, towards the end of the Xin Dynasty, which was established by Wang Mang after usurping the throne from the last emperor of the Western Han. It briefly interrupted what would otherwise have been an unbroken 400-year rule under the Liu clan.