Diversity in The Celestial Empire

The Celestial Empire is not a fantasy tabletop role-playing game inspired by the myths and the history of Cathay, but a TTRPG firmly set in Imperial China, her culture, and her society. As a result, the rules as written strongly encourage the players to have a male character of Hàn ethnicity.

Now I realise this mayn’t be everybody’s cup of tea, and that today’s TTRPG public expects more diversity, both in terms of gender and of ethnicity, when generating their player characters.

However, having the GM set their campaign at the time of the Táng dynasty, and particularly in the capital city of Cháng’ān, could provide a solution. Under the Táng (618-907 AD), Cháng’ān, the eastern end of the Silk Road, was one of the largest metropolises of the world, a cosmopolitan city with several neighbourhoods explicitly designed to house the many merchants, pilgrims, envoys, missionaries, etc. coming from the lands to the West of the Celestial Empire.

This picture (from Twitter) shows the various ethnic groups one might have encountered in the streets of Cháng’ān under the Táng.

Note: the English-language translations in the yellow labels are from a Chinese Facebook group. “Rakshasa” is a wrong interpretation of the original “羅剎”, which used to mean “Russian” and which now indeed means Rakshasa [although I doubt there were any Russians in Cháng’ān; that is an utter anachronism].

The Tiger in Vietnamese Lore

I have stumbled upon a very interesting post about tigers in Vietnamese legend and lore. The link is here, and I am copying the most relevant parts below just in case the original post should disappear from the internet (as it often happens); I am not trying to appropriate it!

The Godly Origin of the Tiger

In Vietnam, the tiger is also known as Chuá Sơn Lâm (The God of the Mountain and Forest). The creation myth of the tiger tells of a mutinous heavenly deity by the name of Phạm Nhĩ. While Phạm Nhĩ was remarkably strong and talented, he plotted against the Jade Emperor as he thought he would be a more worthy ruler of the Heavens. Phạm Nhĩ created a huge ruckus, and he was almost successful in his exploits, until Buddha intervened and captured him. Buddha handed him back to the Jade Emperor, but warned that Phạm Nhĩ should not be killed for his crime. Instead, he was reincarnated as an animal on Earth – but he still retained his extraordinary strength and hearing (the name Phạm Nhĩ refers to his long ears).

The Tiger and the Toad

I love finding common threads in tales around the world, and discovering the similarities between this story and The Turtle and the Hare, as well as The Banquet of the Twelve Zodiac, made me appreciate it all the more. In this story, a toad dissuade a tiger from devouring it by proposing a competition to see who can jump across the river first. During the jump, the toad hangs onto the tiger’s tail for most of the way, and leap across at the last moment to emerge as the victor. You can see the echoes of how the rat tricked its way to become the first member of the lunar zodiac sign, as well as the ever-present commentary between might and wit in fairy tales.

How the Tiger got Its Stripes

As a child, my favourite kinds of tales were the ones that attempted to explain the natural world around us. Like with many fairy tales, I am surprised at how dark it is now that I look back on it. The tale starts with a tiger who saw an ox being used as a beast of burden by a farmer. The tiger asked the ox why it willingly submitted to a human, when it was exponentially stronger. The ox replied it had to follow the human due to his cleverness, but could not explain what ‘cleverness’ was to the expectant tiger. The tiger then went to ask the farmer to show him this object called ‘cleverness’, and the farmer used the tiger’s curiosity to tie him to a tree and set him on fire (yes, folklore comes with a sobering dose of casual animal cruelty!). While the tiger escaped from the fire, it bore the burn marks from the event, and all tigers henceforth were burn with the black burn marks on their body. The ox? It fell over laughing when the tiger was caught and lost all of its upper teeth, which is why ox now only have teeth on their lower jaw. A two for one creation fable, so to speak.

Tigers in Our Language

Tigers are traditionally respected in Vietnam. Up until the past decade, it was still common practice to avoid referring to tigers as ‘con cọp’ or ‘con hổ’ (tiger), but instead using the titles of ‘ông’ (grandfather) or ‘cậu’ (uncle). In Southern Vietnam, the first born son was called ‘anh hai’ (second elder brother), as the title ‘anh cả’ (eldest brother) was saved for the tiger.

One of the most common folk name for a tiger is ‘Ông Ba Mươi’ (Grandfather Thirty), the name came from a rumored tradition once held. The emperors of yore would reward hunter who can catch a tiger with 30 quan tiền (an archaic Vietnamese currency, loan word from the Chinese 貫) as they prevented the destruction wrecked by tigers. However, they will simultaneously be punished by 30 lashes, for displacing the revered creatures from their natural habitat.

There are many Viet proverbs and ca dao (Vietnamese folk poetry) relating to tigers, one of the most well-known ones tells of the dominance of tigers over other landlocked creatures:

Trời sinh Hùm chẳng có vây,
Hùm mà có cánh, Hùm bay lên trời.

Loose Translation: The tiger was born without scales,
If the tiger had wings, it would fly to the heavens.

Vietnamese Folk Poetry

The poem puts forward that if tigers had scales like a fish, or wings like a bird, they would also dominate the sea and the sky. This is a call-back to the tiger’s godly origin, from a deity who almost became the Emperor of the Heavens.

Tigers are ubiquitious in Vietnamese idioms, a few examples are below. If you are versed in your Chinese idioms, you’ll notice the crossover because *gestures at the Viet colonial history*:

“Hùm dữ không ăn thịt con” Translation: Vicious tigers won’t eat their own cubs.	Refers to the bonds between parent and child.
“Mình Hổ, tay vượn” Translation: The body of a tiger, the hands of a monkey.	This saying is used to describe anyone who’s at the peak of their physical state: strong like a tiger and as agile as a monkey.
““Hổ ngồi rồng cuộn” Translation: Crouching tiger, coiling dragon	If you’re familiar with the wuxia movie Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, you already know what this means. In Vietnamese, it refers to a destination with hidden spiritual potential.
“Hổ phụ sinh hổ tử” Translation: A tiger will father a tiger	Referring to the similarities between parent and child, as well as that insidious expectation that an accomplished parent would have an equally talented offspring.

Tigers in Legends

Like many other East and South-east Asian culture, Vietnamese also revere the Bạch Hổ (White Tiger). You can see a White Tiger carved onto the shrine near the famous Hoàn Kiếm lake in Hà Nội. In the ancient capital Huế, there are not just one, but two notable bridges that once went by the name of Bạch Hổ. One of them is now a popular tourist landmark of the city.

Legends of extraordinary men who defeat tigers with their bare hands are also passed on as an example of their might. You may already be familiar with Wǔ Sōng from the Chinese classic Water Margin, but Vietnamese have a similar figure in Mai Hắc Đế (Mai, the Black Emperor). Mai successfully led the uprising against Táng Dynasty rule in Vietnam in 722AD, and ruled for a short time over a region of the country. One of his backstory told of the slaying of a tiger by his bare hands to avenge his mother.

There are a few ethnic groups who claim the tiger as their ancestor, too. Myths tell of tigers (usually the White Tiger mentioned above), who took on human form, fell in love, and the children of these union became the descendants of tigers. Notable examples are prominent families bearing the surnames Vương, Bành, Dương, Điền, Đàm, Trướng, and Nhiễm. They migrated to Vietnam from the regions of Húběi, Húnán, and Sìchuān in China and carried these legends with them.

Urban Legend: The Three-Claws Tiger

The tiger’s hold on Viet people’s imagination is not a relic of the past. As recently as the 1940s, urban legend of the Cọp Ba Móng (The Tiger with Three Claws/Foot) haunted our thoughts. This was a fearsome tiger who feasted on human meat, there were many reasons proposed for its bias for human flesh – was it because it was used to devouring the corpses of our fallen soldiers? Perhaps it lived for so long that it was close to attaining human intelligence? There were also disputes on its origin, the most popular one being that it escaped from the menagerie of a wealthy French official. Having lost one of its foot in captivity, it turned its hatred and anger onto the Vietnamese villagers in the neighboring area. Among the brewing anti-colonial sentiment at the time, I can see why this theory held particular allure. In any event, it became the harbinger of death and military intervention was introduced to remove it. I can’t quite figure out what happened to the tiger on my readings, but it’s certainly a legend I will ponder for a long time.

Encyclopaedia of Historiography

The Encyclopaedia of Historiography by French academic publisher INALCO is freely available on-line (but not off-line) here.

It features many articles about East Asia of interest to referees and players of The Celestial Empire, inter alia:

• East Asian Monetary History
• Biographies of Buddhist Monks and Nuns
• Sources for the History of Taoism
• Chinese Imperial Capitals (The)
• Codes and Legal Works in China
• Historical and Institutional Encyclopaedias (zhengshu)
• Travel Books (The) (China)
• Chinese Cartography
• Matteo Ricci’s World Map (The) (1602)
• “Accounts of the Eastern Barbarians” in Chinese Official Dynastic Histories
• Koryŏsa 高麗史 고려사 : the Official History of the Koryŏ Kingdom
• Yongjae Ch’onghwa 慵齋叢話 (Yongjae Narratives)
• Chronicle of the Voyage of Nosongdang to Japan
• Instructions of the Keian Era (The)
• Japanese Documents from the Edo Period relating to the Imjin War
• Cao Bằng: Sources for the History of a Borderland in Vietnam before the 20th Century

The Purple Maiden

the Purple Maiden

The Purple Maiden (Zǐgū 紫姑) is a minor deity of Chinese Folk Religion mostly worshipped by women via a very peculiar possession cult: instead of possessing a medium, the Purple Maiden takes possession of her effigy during the night of her festival (the 15th day of the 1st month).

The effigy is thus swayed in various directions by the weight of the possessing deity; the movements of the effigy are then interpreted by the Ritual Master / Shaman / Spirit-Medium to divine about the prospects of the coming year in terms of silk output, or any other women-related produce.

As with most Chinese Folk Religion deities, the Purple Maiden is an apotheosised mortal. She was a concubine killed by the jealous wife of her master, close to the pigsty or to the latrine of the household. This is why her cult takes place next to the pigsty or latrine. An alternate (and possibly truer) hypothesis is that the stinking parts of the household were deemed inhabited by malevolent spirits, and a tale was fabricated to create a benevolent spirit guarding said parts of the household.

Whatever the truth, the cult of the Purple Maiden has been popular since the Táng dynasty. Under the Sòng, Zǐgū can be called upon even outside of her festival night via a small doll made of chopsticks and wicker, and animated by children. The doll traces lines on the ground, which are then interpreted for divination. This is probably the first instance of fújī (spirit-writing, see p94 of The Celestial Empire), the divination technique that became so popular from the Sòng dynasty on.

The Assassin (cont'd)

I've seen The Assassin at last. What a masterpiece. Mind you, it's not your run-of-the-mill wǔxiá piàn, with members of rival martial arts schools challenging each other, or with acrobatic fights in bamboo groves.

No. First of all, the film is set under the late Táng, and director Hou Hsiao-Hsien [Hóu Xiàoxián 侯孝賢] secured the assistance of a Taiwanese historian who specialises in the Táng Dynasty to make sure the court manners, musical instruments, dances, foodstuffs, etc. were historically accurate. As a result, the film is visually stunning in its faithful representation of court life and costumes. Many scenes have been photographed in natural light or in candlelight, and you can see the beautiful patterns of the silk clothes and the gauze curtains.

Secondly, many protagonists are female. Women under the Táng enjoyed much more freedom than under later dynasties (see The Celestial Empire, p9), and the film is basically a tale of women plotting against each other against a backdrop of seemingly masculine authority.

I won't spoil the scenario, but the film does depart from the short story. Niè Yǐnniáng returns from her training with the nun as a full adult, not as an adolescent as in the short story. The nun does not disappear; on the contrary, she tells her to kill her cousin Tián Jì'ān, the de facto independent ruler of Wèibó. Niè Fēng is Tián's provost. The various wives and concubines of Tián Jì'ān plot against each other. Instead of killing Tián, Yǐnniáng starts taking part in the various conspiracies, thwarting assassination attempts and protecting her father. I won't spoil the outcome of the film, but I believe it is about Yǐnniáng's finding her own destiny after years of being subservient to others.

Oh, and there is the best depiction ever of a magic-user and of his spells in a semi-historical film. Yes, a magic-user could definitely do with more hit points...

The Assassin (Film)

The Assassin by Taiwanese director Hou Hsiao-Hsien [Hóu Xiàoxián 侯孝賢] is a wǔxiá film starring Taiwanese heartthrobs Shū Qí [舒淇] and Chang Chen [Zhāng Zhèn 張震]. The film won the award for Best Director at the 2015 Cannes Film Festival.

The screenplay is based on Niè Yǐnniáng [聶隱娘], a wǔxiá short story by Péi Xíng [裴铏]. The story is set under the Táng against a semi-historical background, and is one of the very first nǚxiá (female knight-errant) tales, if not the first one. I haven't seen the film yet (it is released on 9 March here in Paris), but my understanding is that it departs from the short story.

Anyway, here is a translation of the short story that I found on-line:

Niè Yǐnniáng was the daughter of Niè Fēng, the General of Wèibó (an area in modern day Héběi Province) during the Zhēngyuán Period of Emperor Dézōng’s reign in the Táng Dynasty. She was only 10 when a Buddhist nun came to beg for alms. Fond of Yǐnniáng, the nun asked the general: “Will you give me your daughter and allow me to educate her?”

General Fēng was angered by this, rejecting and reprimanding her.

The nun, however, remained stalwart, threatening the mighty general: “Even if you put her in an iron locker, I will still take her away.” The little girl disappeared that very night.

Astounded and dismayed, the general ordered a search of the area for his missing daughter, but to no avail. Thoughts of their missing daughter haunted the general and his wife for years to come.

Five years later, the nun returned with Yǐnniáng. “Her training is finished, and it’s time for her to return home,” the nun explained. As the girls’ parents celebrated the return of their daughter, the nun vanished in an instant. The family wept with joy.

When asked about her years of training, Yǐnniáng simply replied: “It was just reciting scripture at first, nothing else.” With disbelief, her father asked again, Yǐnniáng replied: “I don’t know what to do. You wouldn’t believe me, even if I told you honestly.” General Fēng reassured her, encouraged her to speak.

Yǐnniáng began her tale: “When I was first taken, in the dark, I had no idea how far I had travelled with the nun. At dawn, I found myself in a large cave. There were no people outside, only a thick forest that housed many apes and monkeys. There were already two girls in the cave, both 10 years old as well. They were beautiful and smart, but I never saw them eat. They bounced around the steep mountain cliffs like apes in the trees and never fell. The nun then made me swallow a mysterious pill and handed me a two-foot long sword. It was so sharp that you could cut a hair in half by blowing it toward the blade. I learned mountain climbing with the two girls. Gradually, my body became lighter and lighter. After a year of sword practice, I was able to hunt apes. Later, I switched my target to beasts such as tigers and leopards. Every time I tried, I cut their heads off with ease. Three years later, I could stab eagles in the sky. By this time, my blade had worn down to only six inches, but I could still attack birds easily.

“In the fourth year, the two girls stayed back to guard the cave while I was taken to the city. I had no idea where I was, but the nun pointed to a man in the crowd, explaining his sins and crimes in great detail, then she said: ‘Cut his head off for me when his guard is down. He will be as easy a target as a bird.’ She then passed me a three-inch dagger. In broad daylight, on a bustling street, I decapitated him without raising any attention. I stuck his head into a bag and brought it back to the cave. Later, the nun used potions to turn the head into water.

“In the fifth year, the nun assigned me another assassination. She said: ‘That official is sinful. Many innocent people have died at his hands. Go to his room in the night and cut his head off.’ So, I went with my dagger and snuck into the house through an unclosed door. I hid on a beam as the official played with his child, and I didn’t do the deed until daybreak, bringing his head back to the nun. The nun was in a thundering range and asked why I was so late. I told her: ‘I saw the official playing with his child. It was so lovely that I couldn’t bring myself to kill him.’ But the nun snapped at me: ‘The next time that happens, you kill the child first. Kill his loved ones before you end his life.’ At that lesson, I could only bow.

“Then, one day, the nun said, ‘You can hide a dagger in the back of your head, let me show you. It won’t hurt. And, now you can draw it out whenever you need it.’ Amazing as it seems, the nun did as she said, continuing: ‘Your training is coming to an end. You can go back home.’ When we were parting, she also told me that she would see me again in 20 years.”

Yǐnniáng’s strange tale struck fear deep into her father’s heart.

Later, Yǐnniáng was discovered to be disappearing into the night, only to reappear in the morning. General Fēng was too scared to enquire as to her whereabouts. But with this fear, his love for her began to diminish.

One day, a mirror polisher was passing by Yǐnniáng, and she told her father: “That young man can be my husband.” Fēng didn’t dare to refuse and married Yǐnniáng to the young man. Yǐnniáng’s husband had only one skill—polishing mirrors, nothing else. So General Fēng provided generously for the couple but kept both of them at a distance.

Years later, Fēng passed away. By then, the Commander of Wèi had heard of Yǐnniáng’s skills, hiring her and her husband as his close officers. This went on until the Yuánhé Period (806-820) under Emperor Xiànzōng. One day, the commander found himself an enemy—the Governor of Chénxǔ, Liú Chāngyì.

The commander sent the couple to collect Liú’s head. This time, things did not go so smoothly. As they set out, Liú foresaw their coming, and gathered his officers: “Wait at the north of the city tomorrow morning; you will see a man and a woman riding a white donkey and a black donkey respectively. The man will try to shoot a magpie with a slingshot and miss. The woman will grab the slingshot and hit the magpie with a single shot. Bow and inform them that I sent you there to greet them.”

Everything went exactly as Liú said. The surprised couple said: “Governor Liú is an amazing prophet. How else would he know we were coming? We wish to meet him.” When Liú arrived, the couple bowed and apologised: “We deserve the punishment of death for such malicious intent!”

Liú replied: “No, you were only carrying out orders. I wish to hire you. Please stay here and trust in me.” Yǐnniáng realised that her old master could not compare to Liú and agreed: “My governor, we are convinced by your talents and are happy to serve you.” When Liú asked about compensation, the couple said, “Two hundred bronze coins per day will be more than sufficient.” Their demands were met. Later on, Liú found out that the couple’s donkeys were missing. He ordered a search, eventually finding a pair of paper donkeys in a bag, one white, the other black, causing the great governor to infer that—as well as having considerable martial powers—Yǐnniáng and her husband possessed powerful magic.

A month passed and Yǐnniáng told Liú: “Our former commander does not know we now serve you. He will send others. Cut some of your hair and wrap it in red silk. I will put it on his pillow to let him know our loyalties have changed.” Liú did as she said, returning early the next morning, saying: “The message is sent. The commander will order an assassin named Jīngjīnger to kill me and collect your head in the early hours of the morning, but don’t worry, I will find a way to defeat him.” Liú was relieved and showed no signs of fear, but he did light candles during the night and remained alert. At midnight, a red flag and a white flag magically appeared, floating and seemingly fighting with each other around his bed. Suddenly, a head and a body fell from thin air. Yǐnniáng appeared, triumphant: “Jīngjīnger is dead.” She dragged the corpse outside and turned it into water with the potion the old nun used, consuming even the corpses’ hair.

Yǐnniáng later issued Liú a warning: “There will be another assassin named Kōngkònger early tomorrow morning. His skills are mysterious and magical. No human has ever lived to speak of his power, even ghosts can’t track him down. He will sneak in without so much as a shadow. I am no match for him. This time, you will have to depend on luck. Please wear Yúnnán jade around your neck and cover yourself with blankets. I will turn into a small insect and hide in your intestines—the only place I won’t be discovered.” During the night, Liú did what Yǐnniáng suggested. With eyes closed, he lay on his bed. Suddenly, a loud noise rang from his neck. Yǐnniáng jumped from Liú’s mouth to congratulate him: “You are safe! Like an eagle, the assassin only strikes once and flees. He is deeply ashamed by the failure and will be hundreds of miles away in a few hours.” Later, Liú checked the jade and found a deep dagger mark. In gratitude and amazement, he awarded Yǐnniáng and her husband with handsome gifts.

In the eighth year of the Yuánhé Period (813), Liú was transferred from Chénxǔ to the capital. Yǐnniáng did not wish to go with him. She said: “I will travel to various mountains and lakes to visit the saints. All I ask is that you give my husband a small position.” Liú agreed and gradually lost contact with her.

When Liú passed away, Yǐnniáng arrived at the capital on her white donkey and grieved at her former master’s memorial.

During the Kāichéng Period (836-840) under Emperor Wénzōng, Liú’s son, Liú Zòng, was on his way to report for duty as the Governor of Língzhōu. On an old plank road in Sìchuān, he ran into Yǐnniáng, whose appearance hadn’t changed a bit; she still rode upon a white donkey. At the reunion, Yǐnniáng gravely told Zòng: “I see a great disaster in your future, you should not be here.” She gave him a pill and asked him to swallow it. “Quit your position next year and go back to your hometown of Luòyáng. It’s the only way to avoid this disaster. My pill will only keep you safe for one year,” she said. Though Zòng had his doubts, he thanked her and offered colourful silk as a gift. Yǐnniáng refused and disappeared. Sadly, Liú’s son did not heed her words, and—after one year—Zòng kept his position. He died mysteriously in Língzhōu. That was the last time anyone ever saw Yǐnniáng, the great female assassin.

The Role of the Chinese Magistrate

I am re-reading The Chinese Gold Murders detective novel by Robert van Gulik. The postscript by the author gives insight as to the exact role of the magistrate in Imperial Chinese society. I believe it can be of great use to whomever wants to play a magistrate in a role-playing game set in Imperial China:

A feature all old Chinese detective stories had in common was that the role of detective was always played by the magistrate of the district where the crime occurred.

This official was in charge of the entire administration of the district under his jurisdiction, usually comprising one walled city and the countryside around it for fifty miles or so. The magistrate's duties were manifold. He was fully responsible for the collection of taxes, the registration of births, deaths and marriages, keeping up to date the land registration, the maintenance of the peace, etc., while as presiding judge of the local tribunal he was charged with the apprehension and punishing of criminals and the hearing of all civil and criminal cases. Since the magistrate thus supervised practically every phase of the daily life of the people, he is commonly referred to as the "father-and-mother official".

The magistrate was a permanently overworked official. He lived with his family in separate quarters right inside the compound of the tribunal, and as a rule spent his every waking hour upon his official duties.

The district magistrate was at the bottom of the colossal pyramidal structure of ancient Chinese government organisation. He had to report to the prefect, who supervised twenty or more districts. The prefect reported to the provincial governor, who was responsible for a dozen or so prefectures. The governor in his turn reported to the central authorities in the capital, with the emperor at the top.

Every citizen in the empire, whether rich or poor and regardless of his social background, could enter official life and become a district magistrate by passing the literary examinations. In this respect the Chinese system was already a rather democratic one at a time when Europe was still under feudal rule.

A magistrate's term of office was usually three years. Thereafter he was transferred to another district, to be in due time promoted to prefect. Promotion was selective, being based solely on actual performance; less gifted men often spent the greater part of their lives as district magistrates.

In exercising his general duties the magistrate was assisted by the permanent personnel of the tribunal, such as the constables, the scribes, the warden of the jail, the coroner, the guards and the runners. Those, however, only performed their routine duties. They were not concerned with the detection of crimes.

This task was performed by the magistrate himself, assisted by three or four trusted helpers; these he selected at the beginning of his career and they accompanied him to whatever post he went. These assistants were placed over the other personnel of the tribunal. They had no local connections and were therefore less liable to let themselves be influenced in their work by personal considerations. For the same reason it was a fixed rule that no official should ever be appointed magistrate in his own native district.

The present novel gives a general idea of ancient Chinese court procedure. When the court was in session, the judge sat behind the bench, with his assistants and the scribes standing by his side. The bench was a high table covered with a piece of red cloth that hung down in front to the floor of the raised dais.

The constables stood facing each other in front of the dais, in two rows on left and right. Both plaintiff and accused had to kneel between these two rows on the bare flagstones and remain so during the entire session. They had no lawyers to assist them, they might call no witnesses and their position was generally not an enviable one. The entire court procedure was in fact intended to act as a deterrent, impressing the people with the awful consequences of getting involved with the law. As a rule there were every day three sessions of the tribunal, in the morning, at noon and in the afternoon.

It was a fundamental principle of Chinese law that no criminal could be pronounced guilty unless he confessed to his crime. To prevent hardened criminals from escaping punishment by refusing to confess even when confronted with irrefutable evidence, the law allowed the application of legal severities, such as beating with whip and bamboo, and placing hands and ankles in screws. Next to these authorised means of torture magistrates often applied more severe kinds. If, however, an accused received permanent bodily harm or died under such severe torture, the magistrate and the entire personnel of his tribunal were punished, often with the extreme penalty. Most judges, therefore, depended more upon their shrewd psychological insight and their knowledge of their fellow men than on the application of severe torture.

All in all, the ancient Chinese system worked reasonably well. Sharp control by the higher authorities prevented excesses, and public opinion acted as another curb on wicked or irresponsible magistrates. Capital sentences had to be ratified by the throne and every accused could appeal to the higher judicial instances, going up as far as the emperor himself. Moreover, the magistrate was not allowed to interrogate the accused in private. All his hearings of a case, including the preliminary examination, had to be conducted in the public sessions of the tribunal. A careful record was kept of all proceedings and these reports had to be forwarded to the higher authorities for their inspection.

"Judge Dee" is one of the great ancient Chinese detectives. He was a historical person, one of the well-known statesmen of the Táng dynasty. His full name was Dí Rénjié, and he lived from A.D. 630 till 700. In his younger years, while serving as magistrate in the provinces, he acquired fame because of the many difficult criminal cases which he solved. It is chiefly because of his reputation as a detector of crimes that later Chinese fiction has made him the hero of a number of crime stories which have only very slight foundation in historical fact, if any.

Later he became a minister of the Imperial Court and through his wise counsels exercised a beneficial influence on affairs of state; it was because of his energetic protests that the Empress Wǔ, who was then in power, abandoned her plans to appoint to the throne a favourite instead of the rightful heir apparent.

In most Chinese detective novels the magistrate is at the same time engaged in the solving of three or more totally different cases. This interesting feature I have retained in the present novel, writing up the three plots so as to form one continuous story. In my opinion, Chinese crime novels in this respect are more realistic than ours. A district had quite a numerous population; it is only logical that often several criminal cases had to be dealt with at the same time.

I have adopted the custom of Chinese Míng writers to describe in their novels men and life as during the sixteenth century, although the scene of their stories is often laid several centuries earlier. The same applies to the illustrations, which reproduce customs and costumes of the Míng period rather than those of the Táng dynasty. Note that at that time the Chinese did not smoke, neither tobacco nor opium, and did not wear the pigtail– which was imposed on them only after A.D. 1644 by the Manchu conquerors. The men wore their hair long and done up in a topknot. Both outdoors and inside the house they wore caps.

The Seven Causes For Repudiation

In Imperial China, according to the Táng Code, married men had seven criteria whereby they could repudiate their wife, called the Seven Outs (qīchū 七出):
1- barrenness (not giving birth to children)
2- lasciviousness
3- disobedience to her husband's parents
4- indulgence in gossip
5- thievish propensities
6- jealousy
7- a disfiguring illness

The Míng code added that a woman who hadn't any living relatives, however, could not be repudiated [that would have made her free of any male dominance, which is contrary to Confucian orthodox thought]. Neither could be repudiated a wife who had mourned three years for her husband's parents. Husbandly repudiation was also forbidden in the case of a husband who had become rich having been poor previous to and at the time of the marriage.

Needless to say, repudiation only worked one way: a woman could never require the marital relation be dissolved, no matter how miserable her life. Miserable women would routinely commit suicide instead, thereby shaming their husband who would lose face.

A man who had repudiated his wife without her falling in one of the seven criteria would have had to take her back, and he would have been punished by 80 strokes of beating with the heavy stick.

A woman who ran away from her home would be sold by the State if caught. If she had been married during her absence, she was sentenced to death by strangulation.

The laws were either identical or extremely similar in the other countries of the East Asian cultural sphere: Japan, Korea, and Vietnam.

Under the Qīng, the Code added the possibility of a mutual divorce. Here again, the asymmetry of the male and female positions in society was apparent by the fact that a divorced man could remarry, whereas a divorced woman could not. Another kind of divorce, and then under all dynasties, was the state-mandated annulment of marriage; it would be pronounced by a magistrate if either spouse had committed any of the following offences:
- murder
- adultery
- assault and battery upon an in-law

Quick 'n Easy Tibet-Flavoured Setting

I have serendipitously found, on the Santicore blog, a small gem of a rather Old School-ish Tibetan-flavoured setting for fantasy role-playing games. It's called The Roof of the World and it's here; enjoy!

Fantasy Tibet

Given the overall D&D-ish flavour, this setting would probably work best with my upcoming Oriental Monsters & Magic rules rather than with The Celestial Empire, but I think that with little work from the GM it should also work with the latter.

NPC: the monk Jiànzhēn

Dhamma Musings is a non-gaming blog I have been following for quite a long time. Its latest post is about the famous Táng Chinese monk Jiànzhēn (鑒真, 688–763), who travelled far and wide in East Asia, and who eventually settled in Japan where he founded a still-existing temple (Tōshōdai-ji 唐招提寺) and a still-active sect (Risshū 律宗).

The following are excerpts from the post:

Living during the Táng Dynasty, Jiànzhēn could properly be called a Renaissance man. He was born in what is now Jiāngsū province. In 688, he became a monk while young. Jiànzhēn studied Buddhism in the Chinese capital for six years, his main field of study being vinaya [monastic rules]. In the succeeding years, he mastered many arts including medicine, horticulture and even architecture. His two great achievements during this time were to found a hospital and to organise the copying out of 33,000 scrolls of the scriptures to be distributed to various monasteries.

click to enlarge

In 742, a delegation from Japan arrived in China and invited Jiànzhēn to visit their country to re-establish the correct ordination procedure for monks and nuns. Despite the protests of his disciples and supporters, Jiànzhēn accepted the invitation and the next year set out for Japan by ship. Bad navigation and unruly weather forced his ship back to China. Three more times he tried to get to Japan and failed. During the fifth attempt, his ship was blown off-course as far as Hǎinán Island and, in the three years it took him to return home, the rigours of the journey were such that he developed an eye infection and lost his sight. Undeterred by his earlier failures, and despite being blind, he tried to reach Japan yet again and finally succeeded in 753.

He arrived in Nara (奈良), the Japanese capital, and was greeted by the emperor who put him in charge of the great Tōdai-ji Temple (東大寺). Over the next two years, Jiànzhēn trained some 400 monks and then ordained them in the proper manner. After this, Jiànzhēn built a temple for himself where he was to reside and teach until his death in 763. In designing and constructing this temple he introduced to the Japanese architectural techniques unknown to them until that time. He also introduced the art of bonsai (盆栽) and the technique for making soybean curd.
But Jiànzhēn’s greatest gift to the Japanese was pharmacology and medicine. Despite his blindness, he could identify numerous herbs by smell alone, and he was highly skilled in classifying and storing medicines so as to retain their potency. He also corrected the many mistakes in the earlier translations of Chinese medical texts.

I can see immense gaming potential in the above. The player characters could be bodyguards, ambassadors, or fellow monks travelling to Japan with Jiànzhēn. Given the length of the voyages, this scenario seed could evolve into a quasi-sandbox game with minimal railroading, the only constraint being that the PCs must stay with Jiànzhēn at all times.

JIÀNZHĒN
Jiànzhēn is a serene and soft-spoken monk, able to attract large followings even though he looks unassuming. Having spent his formative years in study, Jiànzhēn is rather slight of build. He's always wearing the simple accoutrements of a Buddhist monk, even when travelling, and irrespective of the weather.

STR 11 CON 12 SIZ 8 INT 16 POW 18 DEX 14 APP 13 EDU 18
Hit Points 10 Major Wound 5 Qì 18 Age 55 (first voyage) to 65 (last voyage)

Allegiances
Buddhism 90, Confucianism 10, Daoism 2

Home Region: Lower Yángzi
Profession: Buddhist Monk
Status: 50% in China, 80% in Japan

Damage Bonus: none
Weapons: Unarmed 25%, damage 1D3
Armour: none
Skills: Appraise 15%, Etiquette 30%, Knowledge (Geography: China proper) 50%, Knowledge (Geography: East China Sea) 25%, Knowledge (History: China) 65%, Knowledge (Religion: Buddhism) 95%, Insight 35%, Language (Chinese) 90%, Language (Japanese) 15%, Language (Sanskrit) 70%, Literacy (Classical Chinese) 115%, Literacy (South Asian alphabets) 80%, Meditation 75%, Mêlée Weapon (Staff) 10%, Perform (Recite sūtra) 75%, Perform (Sing) 50%, Persuade 65%, Science (Alchemy) 30%, Science (Architecture) 60%, Science (Natural History) 85%, Sense 80%.

the battle of Talas

click to enlarge

The battle of Talas took place in July 751 near present-day Taraz in Kazakhstan between Táng China and the Arab Abbasid Caliphate. Written sources about the battle are very scarce, but it is believed that it pitted more than 20,000 Chinese troops against more than 10,000 Arab troops. Each side had an imprecise number of local allies. On the map on page 28 of The Celestial Empire, the location of the battle corresponds to the southernmost part of the province of Transoxiana, close to the border with Sogdiana.

This battle is surprisingly little-known in the West; yet it has marked the end of the westward expansion of China, setting a westernmost mark that no Chinese state has managed to attain ever since.

This battle has also a fundamental cultural and religious importance: it marks the start of the slow but steady Islamisation of Central Asia, a process that has taken about 1,000 years to complete, but which has left its mark deep into China itself: the Huí minority would have never existed hadn't the Silk Road fallen under Muslim influence after the battle of Talas.

Background
Táng China and the Arab Abbasid Caliphate were the two superpowers of the 8th century AD yet, much like the USA and the USSR in the second half of the 20th century, they had avoided direct confrontation. Much like the USA and the USSR, again, each of them was however allied with a number of small buffer states located on the Silk Road, the main source of outside income for both China and the Arab empire.
The Táng empire (in yellow on the map above) was really made up of two major territories: China proper to the east, and Xīyù to the west, linked by a very narrow strip of land, the Héxī Corridor, which was under constant threat of the Tibetan empire. Xīyù itself was much more of a protectorate than a real province, even though it had a Chinese military governor and heavy military presence.
In any case, Talas, where the Chinese and Arab empires met, was very far from both China and the Arab heartland, and could only be reached by travelling through scorching arid lands (especially in July).

The Battle
The events that led to the battle are quite trivial: two aristocratic families squabbled for the succession to the throne in one of the city-states controlled by the Chinese in Xīyù. Or, according to other sources, two kinglets from two neighbouring city-states in Xīyù squabbled amongst themselves. Whichever version is true, the fact is that the Chinese governor of Xīyù intervened on behalf of one of the parties, beheaded the prominent members of the other party, and looted their treasure. This was seen as quite unchivalrous by the surviving members of the wronged party, who asked the Arabs for help. The latter obliged by sending a large army. Unfortunately, details of the battle itself are very, very scarce (even the exact location is unknown). Apparently the Chinese were tired and thirsty; in the midst of the battle, their Turkic allies switched sides, resulting in a massive Chinese defeat.

Aftermath
Despite the heavy Chinese defeat, the Arabs did not push their advantage because of inner trouble in the Arab heartlands that required that the troops be sent back. The Chinese tried to take advantage of this respite to rebuild their military power in Xīyù, but the Ān Lùshān Rebellion of 755-763 put a definitive end to these plans. It wouldn't be until under the Qīng, approximately 1,000 years on, that the Chinese empire reconquered its Western Regions.
A side effect of the battle of Talas was that, amongst the many Chinese prisoners of war, there were many papermakers who were brought to Samarkand where they were ordered to teach their handicraft. As a result, Samarkand became a flourishing paper-making centre of Central Asia and of the Muslim world. The scenario that (alas!) didn't make it into The Celestial Empire was about these Chinese papermakers having to flee Samarkand and return to China without being caught.

Fantastic Interactive Map of China

I have serendipitously found an amazing interactive map of China that lets you superimpose a variety of indicators over a 'Google Maps' kind of map of China. The map is consistent with the boundaries of China as of the end of the 20th century (i.e., PRC + ROC) meaning that, except for some borderland areas, it covers pretty much any region that the GM may use as the setting of his or her Celestial Empire campaign game.

Just click here, remove the already-superimposed grid, and experiment with:
 - religious sites
 - minority place-names
 - mountain peaks and passes
 - historical places: Míng garrisons, Qīng courier stops and routes, Míng/Qīng postal stations, exam seats, sections of the Grand Canal, Táng prefectural & county capitals,
 - vegetation

Postal routes and courier stops in Qīng China

Edit 24/02/2016: the interactive map has moved here.

the Khitans

The Khitans (in Chinese: Qìdān 契丹; in Korean: Georan) were a nomadic para-Mongolic people, originally from Mongolia and Manchuria, appearing in historical records well before the Táng. The original ethnic centre of the Khitans seems to have been Inner Mongolia. The Khitans were one of the foremost steppe peoples, and exerted enormous influence on northern and Inner Asia until the 13th century, yet they are very little known outside of the restricted circle of people interested in East Asian history. The current name of China in several languages stems from the name of the Khitans (e.g., Bulgarian and Russian: Китай; Kazakh: Қытай; Mongolian: Хятад), as well as the ancient name of 'Cathay' formerly used in most European languages (see my earlier post about Bento de Góis). This is testament to their importance at the time.

Under the Táng, the Khitans were vassals to either the Táng or the Türks, depending on the balance of power between the two, or to the Uyghurs when the latter replaced the Türks as the main steppe power.

After the Ān Lùshān Rebellion (755-763), the Khitans did not take advantage of the weakening of the Táng but remained peaceful vassals of the Uyghurs. In 916, in the interregnum between the Táng and Sòng dynasties, the Khitan khan Ābǎojī (阿保機) declared himself emperor; for the very first time in their history, the Khitans became a united nation. In 926, the Khitans conquered much of the northernmost part of Ancient Korea, and absorbed it into their empire. In 935, the Khitans conquered the so-called 'Sixteen Prefectures' (which correspond to the province named 'Liáo' on the map on p28 of The Celestial Empire). In 947, the Khitan Empire adopted Buddhism as its state religion and a Chinese-like strong central government, and was re-named the Liáo Dynasty (Liáo Cháo 遼朝). The Khitan script was modelled in imitation of the shape of Chinese characters. At its height, the Liáo Empire stretched from Manchuria in the east to the Tarim Basin in the west. To the people along the Silk Road, the Khitan Empire was "China", since all the Chinese goods they saw came from it — hence the naming patterns for 'China' mentioned in the introduction of this post.

Although they had become Sinicised and had adopted a Chinese-style government for their sedentary subjects, the Khitans did maintain part of their nomadic lifestyle: the court of the Liáo emperor moved between its various capitals; rather than build palaces, the nobles lived in luxurious tents. Contention over succession was resolved amongst brothers by violence, nomad-style.

the Sòng and Liáo Empires

From its very beginning, the Sòng Dynasty was hostile to the Liáo, and used military force in an attempt to recapture the Sixteen Prefectures. However, Sòng forces were repulsed by the Liáo forces who engaged in aggressive yearly campaigns into northern Sòng territory until 1005 when the signing of the Chányuān Treaty ended these northern border clashes. The Sòng were forced to provide a yearly tribute to the Khitans of 100,000 ounces of silver and 200,000 bolts of silk. These border clashes feature prominently in the Míng novel the Water Margin (chapters 83-89 of the 100-chapter version).

The Sinicised Khitan Empire of the Liáo remained a major player in north-east Asia until 1125, when it was defeated and destroyed by the Jurchens (see p30 of TCE). Most relics of the Khitan culture were destroyed when the Liáo Empire fell. Tombs were disinterred in acts of revenge by the Jurchens, which had been oppressed during the Khitan reign.

The remnants of the Liáo Dynasty escaped the area towards the Western Regions (Xīyù 西域), establishing the short-lived Kara-Khitan Khanate, which fell to the Mongols in 1218. That was the end of the Khitans. No later people has been established as their descendents, and their language also died out.

[A-Z April Blogging] [H] Huāláng

Historically, the Huāláng (花郎, "Flowery Gentlemen") were a society of young and beautiful aristocrats from the Korean kingdom of Silla (Xīnluó 新羅), contemporary of Táng China. This is the only hard fact that can be historically confirmed, given the paucity of the sources. Little writing has survived from Silla Korea; anything else is pure speculation.

Later on, the term Huāláng came to mean: in the 13th century, 'travelling entertainer'; in the 16th century: 'male prostitute'; in the 19th century: 'boy dancer'. In the 20th century, a Korean martial arts known as Huālángdào developed, mostly in reaction to foreign martial arts. As a result, a whole Huāláng mythology was 'retro-developed' to be used as a historical basis and justification for the latter-day Huāláng (practitioners of Huālángdào). Little of this 20th-century Huāláng-mythmaking has any historical evidence whatsoever. However, gaming being gaming, we'll try and incorporate much of this more recent Huāláng mythology into The Celestial Empire.

The Huāláng started as a military band in the Silla era. The Huāláng were chosen from the young sons of the nobility; they entered a kind of chivalric corps whose aim was to uphold the ideals of complete loyalty to the nation, righteousness, and bravery: the five huāláng commandments were: serve the king with loyalty, serve parents with piety, be faithful to friends, never retreat in battle, preserve life when possible. The Huāláng were dressed up in black jackets and red skirts. Besides their martial training, they were trained to attack and drive out disease demons through exorcism. [Note: this latter skill may actually stem from a linguistic confusion between the terms huāláng‒ flower knight and huāláng‒ husband of a female shaman, so we'll ignore it in the description of the Huāláng profession below. Should the GM allow this ability, the Necromancy skill should be added to the roster of primary or secondary skills of the Huāláng profession]. The Huāláng carry wooden sticks representing swords. They are supposed to have a power to heal. They have a taboo concerning water.

From a religious point of view, the Huāláng were taught a strange mix of orthodox Confucianism and Esoteric Buddhism. This makes them all the more similar to the Japanese Ninja (the unavowed model of 20th century Huāláng), whose religious tenets were also based on Esoteric Buddhism.

Despite their Confucian upbringing, the Huāláng are mostly homosexual. This is not surprising;  many groups of closely-knit warriors in the past were homosexual.

The Huāláng: a new profession for Korean PCs only
Wealth: Affluent
Status: 60%
Allegiance: Confucianism 5 points, Esoteric Buddhism 15 points
Primary skills: Climb, Etiquette, Melee Weapon (any), Missile Weapon (any), Perform (Dance), Ride (Horse)
Secondary Skills: Command, Dodge, Grapple, Hide, Jump, Knowledge (Religion: Esoteric Buddhism), Martial Arts, Melee Weapon (Quarterstaff), Persuade, Spot, Stealth
Suggested Power: Battle Magic ‒ suggested spell: Heal; Buddhist Magic ‒ suggested spells: Diamond Dagger, Sword of Wisdom.
Equipment: A set of weapons corresponding to the character's combat skills. Expensive clothes. Horse. Roll-up ladder.
Miscellaneous:
 - To qualify as a Huāláng, the player character must be a member of the Korean nobility
 - SIZ is to be rolled using 2D6+6

[April A-Z Blogging] [F] the Fǎxiàngzōng school

The following is in addition to the Buddhist sects presented in p90-4 of The Celestial Empire.

Period of time
Táng

Description
The Fǎxiàngzōng school (法相宗) is a minor Buddhist sect established by Xuánzàng (602-664), the great Táng Chinese monk, scholar, and traveller, and by his disciple Kuījī (632-682). The sect is also known as the Wéishízōng school (唯識宗). The sect is, like the Huáyán School (p93 of TCE), very much scholarly-oriented, but remains less famous than its rival. The Fǎxiàngzōng school does not survive the anti-Buddhist persecutions in the 9th century.

Members
Monks only, especially those interested in original Indian Mahāyāna texts, and in particular those of the Yogācāra tradition. Gaming-wise, it should be restricted to NPCs.

Requisites
- Knowledge (Religion: Buddhism) at 75% at least.
- Language (Sanskrit) at 50% at least.
- Literacy (South Asian alphabets) at 50% at least.
- Persuade at 50% at least.
- Willingness to travel.

Benefits
Members of this school have access to a variety of Indian manuscripts, whose perusal gives a 25% of adding +1D6% to the Knowledge (Religion: Buddhism) skill once per month of scholarly activities, e.g., translating Indian texts to Chinese.
Members of this school have access to sympathetic Buddhist organisations for food and shelter in Bactria, Sogdiana, Dzungaria, the Tarim Basin, Inner Manchuria, Korea, and Japan.

Obligations
Members of this school are dedicated to the spread of original Mahāyāna thought to East Asia, and are hence often found travelling west to India through Inner Asia (to gather new Indian texts), or east to Korea and Japan (to spread the Yogācāra tradition).
Members with a good knowledge of Sanskrit and Chinese (both above 90%) must devote at least 10% of their time translating Indian texts to Chinese.

[April A-Z Blogging] [A] the Ān Lùshān Rebellion (755-763)

I will try to do a post a day, in the alphabetical order, during this month of April. This is not to participate in a contest, but to force myself to posting more frequently.

As an introduction, let me state some facts: the eighth-century Ān Lùshān Rebellion was the single deadliest war in human history in relative value, i.e., by calculating the death toll against the global population of the time. It is assumed that 15% of the total population of the world (not of China, of the world!) died either as a direct consequence of the military actions, or as a consequence of the mass starvation and diseases caused by the upheavals brought upon central and northern China by the war. Yet this war is incredibly little-known in the West.

The Táng empire possibly represents the zenith of Imperial China. Its territorial extent was immense, more or less the same area as today at a time when transport and communications were definitely not as they are today! In terms of culture, arts, and religion, it is also widely accepted that this is the time when Imperial China reached its apogee — it is the culture of Táng China that spread on to Korea and thence to Japan.

Táng China was a centralised empire, with an embryonic civil service, yet still mostly relying upon the ancient nobiliary structure. In the 7th century, the empire embarked upon a series of wars of expansion, to the north-east (present-day Manchuria), to the west (Inner and Central Asia) and to the south (present-day Vietnam). Although China was victorious, these wars strained her economy. The huge armies that conquered these distant lands had to remain stationed there to prevent any local revolts, and, due to the economical difficulties of the central government, the funds for the upkeep of the armies and of the mercenaries, which played a growing role in the wars, came from the generals of the armies themselves. As a result, the generals of the frontier armies became the equivalent of the European feudal marquis: hereditary noblemen whose duty it was to guard the marches of the kingdom. These frontier military governors were called jiédùshǐ (節度使) in Chinese.

Ān Lùshān (安祿山)

Ān Lùshān (安祿山) was one of these jiédùshǐ. The son of a Sogdian father and a Turkic mother (rumoured to be a sorceress), he was born c. 703, and was already a successful general in his thirties, having warred against barbarians both in the north-east and in the west. Note: it was frequent under the Táng to appoint foreigners as army generals, as they were deemed to be more politically reliable than native Hàn, the latter being thought to be held sway over by the various aristocratic factions.
Ān Lùshān was a frequent visitor in the capital, where he was admitted in the inner sanctum of the emperor's palace. This prompted a rumour that he was a lover of Yáng Yùhuán's, the emperor's favourite concubine. To this day, it is unknown whether the rumour was based on anything concrete, and this love triangle has originated quite a number of films and TV dramas.


The battle of Talas, lost against the Arabs in 751, was the turning point in the Chinese wars of expansion. The people in China grew dissatisfied with these costly wars, and the emperor had to implement a series of sometimes conflicting changes of policy. These changes were accompanied by the rise and the decline of various aristocratic factions at court. In the winter of 755-756, one of these factions called in Ān Lùshān, who occupied Cháng'ān. The city was ruthlessly sacked and destroyed by the (mostly non-Hàn) armies of Ān and his allies. At this point, emperor Xuánzōng gave all power to the factions who opposed Ān Lùshān to remove this threat. Ān reacted by attacking and taking Luòyáng, the 'second' or 'eastern' capital city of the Táng. At this moment, Ān Lùshān declared himself emperor of the new Great Yān (大燕) dynasty.

The legitimate emperor had to flee south to Sìchuān. His guards, however, blamed the war on the supposed affair between Ān and Yáng, and had her put to death. In 756, the heartbroken Xuánzōng resigned in favour of his son, Sùzōng, who had remained in the north to reclaim the throne. The hard flight to Sìchuān and the death of Yáng Yùhuán have spawned a number of very famous Chinese and even Japanese works.

Sùzōng first had to battle against his brothers for pre-eminence within the loyalist camp, enlisting the aid of Uyghur barbarians. Since Sùzōng didn't have any funds to pay the Uyghurs, they were left free to pillage North China as compensation for heir help. After having defeated his brothers, Sùzōng defeated the Yān, and took back Cháng'ān and Luòyáng in 757, again with the help of his Uyghur allies.

Meanwhile, in the Yān camp, Ān Lùshān had grown complacent as emperor of the Great Yān dynasty, and he was eventually murdered by his own son, Ān Qìngxù. General Shǐ Sīmíng, a long-time ally and childhood friend of Ān Lùshān's, had Ān Qìngxù executed in 759. He took over Ān's territory and troops, and claimed for himself the title of emperor of Yān. This is why the Ān Lùshān Rebellion is also called the Ān-Shǐ Rebellion.

During all these events, most of North China remained disputed between the Táng and the Yān, depending on the outcome of various battles and sieges, and on the shifting loyalties of the various army generals. The rebel heartland lay in the north-east.

However, with the military situation coming to a stalemate between the Táng and the Yān, the latter started to experience internal dissent. Emperor Shǐ was killed by his own son in 761. Apparently, Shǐ's son was an able commander, but with the Uyghurs entering again the fray to help the Táng, he couldn't avoid defeat after defeat, and committed suicide in 763, thus ending the Ān-Shǐ Rebellion.

At this time, northern China lay in ruins, the Táng had lost all their territorial gains from before the Ān Lùshān Rebellion, and the Arabs and the Tibetans could quietly attack and plunder Chinese cities. The Uyghurs controlled the Tarim Basin. The Táng dynasty was irrevocably weakened. Despite its role in the war, the Táng were forced to keep the system of the jiédùshǐ.

On top of the immense deaths and devastation, and of the effects mentioned above, the outcome of the Ān-Shǐ Rebellion was also an economic and an intellectual decline.

Using the Ān Lùshān Rebellion with The Celestial Empire:
As explained in TCE, the game has been written with the peaceful time periods of Imperial China in mind, when travel is safe and player characters can try and work their way through the stable organisations of Imperial China: literary academies, martial arts schools, religious sects, and clan associations. However, troubled times such as the Ān-Shǐ Rebellion may also obviously present many occasions for role-playing. The player characters can be the agents (or even the cìkè) of the one or the other aristocratic faction at the court of emperor Xuánzōng. Or they can be 'secret agents' of the latter, or even accompany him through the dangers and the hardships of the flight to Sìchuān. Or they can be a general ad his retainers, trying to grab as much power as possible.

Warriors of Heaven and Earth (Tiāndì Yīngxióng 天地英雄)

Warriors of Heaven and Earth is a 2003 Chinese adventure film set on the Silk Road in Táng China. The film really, really unfolds like a Celestial Empire adventure: there is an adventuring party, with different professions (soldier, caravan guard, outlaw, Buddhist monk); there is a mission: safely bring the relics of Śākyamuni to Cháng'ān; there are the bad guys: the Göktürks; there are several pivotal scenes set in as many locales: the fight in the oasis city, the fight in the gorges, the flight through the gulley and the secret cemetery, crossing the Gobi Desert, the last stand in the abandoned fortress. The last scene involves an amazing array of different Chinese weapons, including firearms. You don't want to miss this film, it's truly a TCE player's dream come true. There's also a rival adventuring party to the main protagonists'... this almost feels OSR!

The film features gritty, manoeuvres-heavy combat scenes without wire-fu, and no spells or other supernatural powers [SPOILER: except at the very end], so again it is very much in line with what a player of the Basic Role-Playing System would enjoy, as opposed to other styles of role-playing.

The film has spawned a MMORPG in China, which is testament to its high "role-playability".

Oh, and did I mention the film features the delicious  Zhào Wēi  ^_^

Evolution of Chinese Armour - Táng Dynasty

Design Your Character

There's this nifty web-site for creating costumed dolls on-line... and one of the sub-categories is Korean Warrior! Obviously you can use it to design your Celestial Empire character.

The Korean apparel is supposedly from late Silla [Xīnluó  新羅], which almost exactly corresponds to Táng in China. But I believe this kind of clothing would fit TCE characters up until the Sòng.

I created the warrior above in two-three minutes of time. The scenery is fixed.

Tea Bricks

Tea bricks were the sole form of tea produced and used in Imperial China prior to the Míng dynasty. Each brick weighed about 100g~400g and was thus easily transported, sold or traded. Many such bricks were carried along the Silk Road, or across the Indian Ocean.

In isolated places within Imperial China, as well as in Inner Asia and in Siberia, tea bricks were used as currency.

The various steps in the preparation of tea bricks were all under the control of various guilds who had a monopoly.

Because of the toughness of the bricks, they have to be ground into fine powder before tea can be consumed. Also these bricks are often toasted over a fire to kill insects and moulds. As a result, the taste of tea before the Míng must have been completely different from what we know today.