Author Notes: Something new for me – writing about China. :P I've never done that before so I'd thought I'd give it a shot… Slight reference to Colours of the Wind (as if you haven't picked that up already)! Please enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or anything related to it.
"Wang Yao, my dear friend."
A Chinese man dressed in a rich white silk robe embroidered with intricate silver and blue stitching and a shimmering dragon sewn into the pattern stepped forward from beside a blonde foreigner and his translator and bowed in front of the emperor, his clothing denoting him of significant ranks even amongst the imperial court. "Yes, Emperor Highness?"
"Will you please take the gentleman from Britain on a trip across our country?" Here Yao could almost hear the contempt and disgust spilling forth from the Daoguang Emperor's voice as he pronounced the word 'gentleman', "It would be rude of us, as the host, to not entertain the guest while we work towards ratifying the treaty signed earlier."
Yao's lips pursed into a thin line, his jaw clenched tight. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that arrogant westerner listen smugly to the translator who was whispering away like a hissing snake, tickling his ear with things the British Empire wanted to hear. Although every fibre of his body despised that Englishman, Yao was a respectable man and well educated in manners – he had lost against the foreigners in the war and he will face the consequences like a man. Not only that, he could tell that his emperor was no longer overwhelming with authority with the slightest slump in the Daoguang Emperor's posture as he perched on the golden throne.
Perhaps amongst all the men in China, it was the emperor, the ruler of the Middle Kingdom, the Son of Heaven, whom felt the most powerless in this split moment.
As much as he wanted to refuse the request, Yao knew he had no choice in the matter. Bowing down again, Yao replied, "I shall not disappoint you, your Imperial Majesty."
So it was that the Chinese man had to travel across his beautiful land with a revolting British foreigner; it was preposterous to even think that in the near future this man's people would be taking away his beloved brother, Hong Kong and infiltrating his trade and country with his filthy countrymen and opium – for this, he hated himself.
It was the second month of their travels, having already visited the many beauties of northern China in spring. And on the way they stumbled into Jiuzhaigou, a paradise full of stunning multi-level waterfalls and colourful lakes. The past months were gruelling, the atmosphere in the travelling party intense and thick, almost suffocating; Yao and the other Chinese men could not tolerate the westerners and the British men could not bear to associate themselves with the Chinese. No one spoke unless necessary, the occasional statement of where they were, what there was to see and what they were eating at each restaurant. The dense ambiance of the group didn't bother Yao or his 'guest' – none of them wished to breach that fragile brittle line drawn between them.
On the morning of the last day of their stay in Jiuzhaigou, Yao woke earlier than usual to take a leisurely stroll in the. It was rare for him to not notice the existence of such a beautiful place within his own borders and yet because he was the very embodiment of China, he bore a sense of familiarity as he explored the lakes and waterfalls that splashed blue and greens across the terrain.
Unlike most people who found the night to be a time of deep thoughts and fragile minds, Yao was peculiar in that the mornings were the times when he was at his weakest. It was when the sun is peeking above the horizon that he mulls over things in his mind and takes off that mask of the fearless Middle Kingdom that cannot be shattered no matter how many betrayals he suffers or how many battles he's fought. Thus as any other day, Yao wanted to spend his morning alone to rethink his situation in the world. Was he really caught behind in the past? Falling behind from the world? Isolated from reality? Weak against the other advanced countries?
A feral barbarian in the eyes of the world?
Would it have been better if he didn't urge the emperor to stop the widespread addiction of opium in his people? Would the war then be avoided? And then perhaps, would he be able to watch Hong Kong grow up under his care? The more he questioned himself, the more Yao felt like he was crumbling to pieces inside out.
"Wang?" A voice called out his Chinese name, laced with a foreign twang.
Although his English was far from perfect with a strong accent, the Chinese man replied in the other's mother tongue, "What do you want, Mr Kirkland?"
"I've come to talk to you. Not as the British Empire," The British man said as he came to stand beside the other nation, "But just as Arthur Kirkland."
Yao didn't reply, just continued to stare out into the large lake that was at peace, the surface a flawless mirror reflecting the surrounding view although his own heart was in a state far from tranquillity. After a moment's pause, Yao spoke again, "What is different between us, aru? Why am I labelled the savage?"
The Asian did not shed a tear but Arthur could see the salty drops swirling in his onyx eyes and the dull desperation for an answer in the way he gazed at the clear depths of the lake, shaded in wonderfully soft aqua and jade that he had never seen before in his life. It was almost like discovering something exotic in a brand new continent, but rather, he had always known of China's existence and position as the largest kingdom in Asia and he had not dared to venture into the territory and realm of the oriental dragon.
"Can you hear the wind whisper to you the tales of a world that you do not know of?" A single tear spilled out of Yao's eye, the teardrop seeming to carry so much more emotion than the man was expressing, "Do you know of the changing colours of the sun, moon and stars, aru?"
Once upon a time, perhaps Arthur Kirkland would be able to answer that yes, he knows all these things; of the secret gardens that mother nature hides from mortal eyes, of the tallest heights where no man has reached and of the magical lands that lurk beyond his feeble grasp. But that was long ago when he was still confined on his small island, unknowing of anything outside his country – when he was ignorant and took joy in just exploring and listening to the things his forests would tell him, playing in fields with fairies and creatures of myths. However, now as the invincible British Empire who ruled the seas, he had grown to only care about benefits, riches and materialistic possessions. No longer did he spend hours lying in the cool of the forest floor, watch the gradual movements of the constellations at night or visit that ancient dragon that lives quietly amongst the trees. Nevermore.
The British man was speechless.
As the sun's rays pierced the heavens and crept above the crest of the mountain, a gentle breeze swept across the land and in a flash, the tear that stained Yao's pale face was gone, wiped away by the comforting morning wind. And at the same time, a spark lighted up in the darkest depths of his eyes; a spark of adoration and pride.
"You can dominate my land and people and still, that is all you'll ever achieve. Never will you own China. Never will you own me."
Notes:
1) Between the signing of the Nanjing Treaty and the ratification of it by the Daoguang Emperor and Queen Victoria, there was a gap of 9 months.
2) Jiuzhaigou was not officially discovered by the government until 1972.
3) Technologically and militarily inferior to the European powers, China lost the First Opium War and was forced to surrender Hong Kong by way of the Treaty of Nanking in August 1842.