A/N: Well hello there! So, I had a history test on Classical China. It wasn't difficult, but I decided I should study. So, I grabbed my laptop, and wrote this. It helped me, believe it or not!

So, read this, and learn of Confucianism, the Warring States Period, some geography of the States, the order of kingdoms and Dynasties before the Qin (Chin for those who haven't learned about them yet), and of course, the awesomeness of Yao! But not as awesome as Prussia. Duh.

Editing credits goes to Kurisuten-chan and so does the amazing quote "You can't eat philosophies, Confucius." So, everyone praise and glomp her. Yays.

Disclaimer disclaims.

Yao walked along the path, groaning slightly as the wounds on his legs were stretched and pulled, scabs cracking and blood pouring down. His ripped and torn clothes, red with a pattern of bamboo, which used to be fine silk robes he noted with a tiny hint of pride, but now they were so badly disfigured you couldn't tell. Which was thankful, really, as the robes, however torn they were, were distinctive to the old Zhou Imperial Court.

Yao let out a cry of pain and fell to his knees, a bloody gash splitting open his side. He moaned in pain, whimpering slightly as the dirt and rocks irritated the cuts on his face and arms.

The once proud country lay like that for a while, looking basically dead, bemoaning his fate. Collapsed on the ground, China remembered Yu, the founder of Xia with bitter fondness, he remembered vividly Shan, one of his Shang kings, he remembered Wu, the first Zhou King, and thinking of Wu and his family, he was greatly saddened, for the Zhou had fallen. Tears formed in his eyes and he found his shoulders trembling, the action hurting his wounds.

Then, an irritation in his back. He moaned in pain, and the irritation got more persistent. Yao rolled over painfully, and glared up into the face of a man who was holding a stick. A stick the man had been poking him with. "What?" he snapped, angry. The man raised a brow at him, and folded his arms. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to know if you were alive. With all the wars, I do not know if you were simply attacked or if you had fought for one King or another."

Yao stared at the man for a moment, slightly dazed. People nowadays were distrustful; this was a time of war. Why should his life matter to someone whom he knew nothing of?

"Speaking of which, do you know the fastest way to the Lu State?" asked the man. Yao looked up at him, and pushed himself up.

"Who are you?" the country inquired.

"My name is Confucius," he said, bowing. "And whose acquaintance do I have the honor of making?"

"Yao. Yao Wang."

"Hello then, Yao." Confucius sat beside him, looking at the bamboo lining the road. "So, how were you hurt?"

"Like everyone else, the fighting," Yao scoffed, eyes diverted from the man.

"Oh so you were also involved. Which state?" Yao's mind immediately raced, searching and panicking to think of a state. One that had fought recently, and one that was around this area. He settled for the one that had given him the wound on his left arm.

"The Qi State," he said. "I was hurt fighting the Yan."

"Ah. I heard that battle was quite violent."

"Yes. I hope all this fighting ends soon."

"Now that's something I know all about! You see, I'm a philosopher, and I have a few theories on how to achieve peace. Would you like to hear them?"

"I would like to bind my wounds, thank you," Yao replied a little sharply, the words coming out harsher than he had intended.

"Oh, I suppose I should have…" Confucius replied sightly sheepishly.

"I have bandages in my pack. I just can't reach a lot of them," cutting him off, loss of blood making him light headed and impatient.

"Very well." The two lapsed into silence, Confucius tying the bandages around Yao's legs, torso and arms, washing them with water from the near stream. When finished, the philosopher settled beside his war torn country and said, "Do you want something to eat?"

"Yes please. I've not eaten in two days."

"I was thinking food for thought."

"You can't eat philosophies, Confucius. If you could, you would hear my philosophical musings a few miles away," Yao snorted, eyes narrowing again.

"That would make things easier on the peasants, wouldn't it?" the man reached into his pack and produced a loaf of bread. "I'm afraid that's all I have, if you would like to have half."

"Thank you." The philosopher broke the bread loaf in half and handed the slightly larger part to Yao, who tore into it eagerly. Confucius stared at him, and when Yao was done, he silently held out the other half.

"Obviously you need it more than I do." Yao gave a quiet laugh, but ate the bread gratefully, practically inhaling it, such was the speed.

"I am shocked and amazed," Confucius commented, almost teasingly.

"Trust me, if you had gone through what I have, you would eat this much as well," Yao replied, internally wondering how someone could still remember how to tease in a warring time such as this.

Confucius laughed and said, "Now that you are fed, would you like to hear about my philosophies?"

"Why not? I don't have anywhere to go."

So, Confucius started to talk. He spoke of an ideal gentleman, one who was talented in many forms and respected his superiors, of five links (ruler and servant, husband and wife, older brother and younger brother, friend and friend, and father and son), how a superior gentleman was created and not born, of many poignant ideas. Yao listened in interest, occasionally asking a question or commenting, and Confucius took this in stride, answering his questions and pondering briefly on his comments, but his philosophies were told from the unknowing lower rank in every single one of his links to the higher rank.

When the man was done, he sat back, and looked evenly at Yao, who blinked at him once and said, "Those are very interesting philosophies. Perhaps someday they will become realized."

"I hope so." Confucius had picked up the stick he had poked Yao with and regarded it. "But if they do, it will likely be after I die."

"Still. You have very good points. Unfortunately you still cannot eat them." Confucius laughed and regarded Yao as he stood. "Despite fighting for the Qi State, I have business in the Song State. I could go with you to the Lu State."

Confucius smiled and stood, saying, "I would very much like that."

"Perhaps the king there will listen to your theories," the ancient country said, nodding slightly.

"Perhaps…" Confucius trailed off, staring into the horizon for a moment before shaking himself back to reality.

The two walked on, talking, admiring the nature around them, Occasionally binding Yao's wounds, sharing philosophy and food, until Confucius went to the court in the Lu State and Yao went on the Song State, waving goodbye to the man.

Yao would remember that laughing man during the Qin Dynasty, when his arms ached and his back was bleeding and he was ready to die, and wonder why Qin Shi Huangdi would not listen to his teachings. Shang Yang was such an imbecile anyway.

Many years later, in the twenty-first century, in fact, Yao sat at his desk flipping through a dusty, hand-bound book. A book of proverbs by Confucius that he had found buried away in a small antique store. He flipped through it, almost idly, recognizing most of the proverbs, but then stopped abruptly as a small piece of loose paper fell out from between the pages.

I met my country, starving, lying on the side of the road, dirty and bloodied. I helped bind his physical wounds, but some vain part of me wishes that maybe, someday, my philosophies will help bind the internal ones.

China read the small note a couple of times over, before setting it down on his desk and leaning back into his chair. He sighed, but then smiled slightly. Confucius' saying did indeed help, but there was still much to heal.

Yao glanced down at the slip of paper again, gazing at it for a few moments.

"I suspected you were an odd, but you never cease to amaze me," he muttered to himself, staring up at the ceiling. China was sure that wherever he was, the old man was surely grinning.

A/N: Huzzah!

Interestingly enough, China was named for the Qin Dynasty, though that only lasted as long as Qin Shi Huangdi was alive. And so, Yao could not be China before the Qin Dynasty that came after the 200 hundred years of the Warring States Period.

Since no one knows what Confucius was like, everyone has different opinions, but there are two main ideas, a kindly grandfather, or a strict old man. I like the idea of the creator of the ideas that STILL influence China being nice. So, I made him as he was.

Credit goes to Kurisuten-chan (who is amazing and has the single best iPod on the face of the earth) for the last part too. She's amazing.

So, this will continue, as I wrote a second one, and I like writing these so we'll go as far as my history unit went. That's to the end of the Han Dynasty, so we've got a long way to go.

Hope you liked it and will review for the poor soul publishing this after midnight when she really should be sleeping!

~Sorastro