Midnight. Stars scattered like sparse raindrops across the pitch-black canopy of heaven, while a single icy moon hung suspended in the sky. Changmang Shan — the highest peak of Dong Chao — was draped beneath a thin veil of silver light cast by stars and moon alike, standing like a towering jade wall above the Wangyu Pingyuan, noble and lofty and sacred, fully worthy of its name: Wang Shan.
Atop that great summit, two elderly men sat facing one another. Both appeared to be around sixty years of age, their features lean and refined, their eyes carrying a calm and wise light. One was robed in white, the other in black. They were separated by a distance of one zhang, and between them lay a great square boulder whose surface had been shaved perfectly flat by some unknown means and carved into a weiqi board. Arranged across it were many pieces, each a round stone of identical size.
It was a game played only halfway through — the two sides evenly matched, the outcome still impossible to foresee.
“Such a clear and luminous sky of stars and moon — it has been a long time since I last saw one.” The white-robed elder on the left lifted his gaze from the board, raising his eyes toward the heavens above with a heart full of feeling.
“In a world mired in chaos and ruin, clarity is hard to come by.” The black-robed elder on the right also turned his eyes skyward. “The hour of zi has already passed — they should be arriving soon.” There was a faint thread of anticipation in his voice.
The elder’s words had barely fallen when the canopy of heaven suddenly blazed with starlight. A single brilliant star leapt up into the sky, and in an instant, its radiance shot straight through the nine heavens. For one breathtaking moment, that starlight surpassed even the luminous moon itself, flooding the entire world with light in an instant.
“It has appeared! It has appeared!”
The white-robed elder fixed his sharp and gleaming gaze upon that one star. A flicker of excitement that could not be suppressed crossed his otherwise tranquil and composed face.
But just then, another star rose upon the canopy of heaven — equally resplendent, equally dazzling and overwhelming, shining with such unbridled brilliance that it seemed the entire world between heaven and earth could contain no other star but itself.
“Look! The other has appeared too! It has appeared as well!”
The black-robed elder rose to his feet in excitement, his finger pointing toward the blazing star above.
“They have finally both appeared!”
The white-robed elder rose as well, gazing up at those two stars burning with a brilliance that rivaled the bright moon. They faced each other across a vast distance, each vying with the other in radiance.
“Finally — they have appeared at last! This age of chaos is finally drawing to its end!” The black-robed elder murmured the words like a cry, his eyes fixed on the two stars above, his expression brimming with an excitement that could scarcely be contained.
“The age of chaos will end by their hands — yet in the nine heavens above, there is room for only one royal star. When the stars meet, which one will fall?” The white-robed elder raised his hand as though reaching to touch the stars at the edge of the sky. In his voice there was excitement, and yet also an uncertain unease and hope before an unknowable future.
And then, the two brilliant stars overhead slowly began to draw in their light, no longer as blindingly radiant as they had been moments before — yet still far brighter than all the stars surrounding them.
“When the stars meet, which one will fall? That is for fate to decide.” The black-robed elder reined in his surging emotion. His gaze rested on the stars at the horizon, and when he spoke, his voice seemed to travel from some distant ancient age — drawn out and deep.
“Fate, is it?” The white-robed elder looked upon those two stars with a gaze full of tender longing, a faint sorrow and wistfulness stirring within him.
“Shall we continue the game?” The black-robed elder drew his eyes back and let them fall upon the weiqi board before him.
“We shall not.” The white-robed elder swept a glance across the board, then raised his finger toward the sky. “This game shall be played by them.”
“By them?” The black-robed elder looked at the board, then looked at the sky, and offered a faint smile. “Very well — let us leave it for them to finish.”
“Let us descend the mountain. The time has come for the two of us to go find them.” The white-robed elder cast one final glance at the stars above, then turned and prepared to make his way down.
“Once we find them — does it follow that the victor between them becomes the victor between you and me?” The black-robed elder’s calm and measured gaze suddenly sharpened like the point of a thorn.
“Need you even ask? You and I have contended for decades, and still no outcome has been determined. This final half of the game shall be played by them — to settle the question of victory between us, and to determine the world’s… final resting place.” The white-robed elder turned back and smiled at the black-robed elder. It was a smile as light and unhurried as drifting clouds and a gentle breeze, yet within it lay a depth of meaning that stretched far and long.
“Agreed.” The black-robed elder gave a single nod.
The two men departed like drifting shadows, leaving behind only the unfinished game atop Changmang Shan.
In the years that followed, those who climbed to the summit of Changmang Shan and encountered the board were universally struck with wonder — yet not one of them disturbed it. Few could ascend the highest peak of Dong Chao, and those who did were no ordinary souls. Since someone had left behind an unfinished game, it stood to reason that someone would come to complete it.
Many years later, two people followed the course of fate’s design and at last met upon the summit of Changmang Shan, where they came face to face with the game destiny had left waiting for them.
It was then the reign year of Ren under Qí Di of Dong Chao.
From the time Shi Di founded the nation until the reign of Qí Di, Dong Chao had endured for more than three hundred years. Shi Di was a man of extraordinary vision and unmatched martial prowess; through years of campaigns east and west — defeating his enemies and winning over the people — he had established the vast and far-reaching empire of Dong Chao.
Once the empire was founded, Shi Di rewarded merit accordingly, enfeoffing the seven generals of the most outstanding accomplishment as kings. He divided their domains, named each nation after their family name, and thus were born seven nations: Huangguo, Ningguo, Fengguo, Baiguo, Huaguo, Fengguo, and Nanguo. He then had eight Xuan command tokens cast from dark iron drawn from the depths of Bei Hai. The largest of these was known as the Xuanzun command token, which remained in the Emperor’s possession; the remaining seven, called the Xuanmo command tokens, were distributed among the rulers of the seven nations. At the moment of distribution, the Emperor and the seven kings each shed their blood and swore an oath: when the Xuanzun command token is raised, all seven nations shall bow.
After Shi Di, Cheng Di, Guan Di, and Yan Di were all enlightened rulers of their era. They recruited men of talent, attended to the conditions of the common people, reduced corvée labor and kept taxes light, maintained an upright and transparent governance — and the various vassal nations kept to their place, remaining loyal to the imperial house. Under their hands, Dong Chao grew stronger and more flourishing with each passing day.
But through the middle period, Zhi Di, Yi Di, Qi Di, and Zhao Di all lacked notable ability, and merely preserving what had been inherited was already a feat in itself. Then came Jia Di, Xi Di, and Yi Di — rulers of the first order of dissolution, who indulged in ease and pleasure and neglected the affairs of governance, allowing a clique of treacherous ministers to seize control of the court. The once-mighty empire of Dong Chao weakened with each passing day.
Later came Li Di, who was vainglorious and grandiose in his ambitions, and who delighted in extravagance. Every time he made an imperial tour, he would commission the construction of lavish palaces, exhausting the people and squandering the treasury. He also dispatched his armies twice against Mengcheng, only to return both times in crushing defeat — leaving the nation’s people unable to sustain their livelihoods, with resentment rising from every quarter. The various vassal lords, too, began to harbor other intentions. First, Prince Ning of Ningguo raised his armies and marched toward the imperial capital, intending to replace the throne — yet before Ning’s forces could reach the Golden Hall, Li Di’s body, already rotted through by wine and excess, collapsed from sheer terror and he died within the splendid halls of the Chilong Palace.
The Crown Prince Jing ascended to the throne. Jing Di issued the Xuanzun command token, summoning the lords of the six nations to mobilize their armies in loyal support of the imperial house. The combined forces of six nations were assembled and the Ning armies were driven back. Prince Ning was defeated and perished, and his territory was absorbed by the three neighboring nations of Fengguo, Huangguo, and Fengguo.
After the Ningguo rebellion was suppressed, the strength of the various vassal lords had grown greatly. Though Jing Di held grand ambitions, Dong Chao was by then a body afflicted with a hundred ailments. Moreover, during the Ning Wang rebellion, an arrow had struck him in the chest, and he lingered upon his sickbed; within fewer than three years, he passed away without leaving behind an heir. His imperial brother, Prince Li, ascended the throne — and so began the reign of Li Di.
Li Di was by nature cruel and savage. He had no fondness for gold, silver, or beautiful women — his sole passion was the hunt. Yet his hunts were no ordinary pursuit of animals, for what he hunted was men. He would scatter living people across the hunting grounds, then lead his ministers and generals in surrounding and hunting them down; whoever claimed the most heads was declared the victor. If any prey was taken alive, their bodies would be split open at the belly during the victory feast for the assembled crowd’s amusement and merriment.
For a time the people burned with fury, and righteous armies rose up in various places throughout the land. Yet Dong Chao had endured two campaigns against Mengcheng, followed by the Ning Wang rebellion, and the main imperial armies had been nearly entirely spent. Li Di had no choice but to call upon the vassal lords to send troops and suppress the uprisings — which only gave those lords a yet more brazen justification to recruit soldiers and purchase horses, competing openly with one another to wage war and expand their own territories and wealth. Conflicts and mutual attacks among the nations grew frequent, and the Emperor was by then powerless to restrain the various kingdoms.
In the eleventh year of Li Di’s reign, the Emperor was surrounded and killed by an enraged mob during the autumn Qiuji hunt. His body was hacked to pieces, and this event was recorded in history as the “Qiuji Hunting Catastrophe.”
In the wake of that chaos, the Crown Prince Qi ascended the throne as Emperor — only to discover that the Xuanzun command token had vanished. With it gone, the various nations refused to acknowledge imperial authority, and the Emperor became nothing more than an empty title. The once-mighty empire of Dong Chao shattered and fragmented, entering an age of chaos in which the six nations each governed themselves and ground against one another in relentless contention.
The territory of Dong Chao was vast and wide. At the center lay the ten provinces of Qiyun, centered upon the imperial capital — this was the Wangyu governed and directly administered by the Emperor. To the north lay Baiguo, spanning one thousand li of land with ten fortified cities. To the west lay Fengguo, spanning three thousand li of land with thirty-six fortified cities. To the southwest lay Fengguo, spanning two thousand two hundred li of land with twenty fortified cities. To the south lay Huangguo, spanning three thousand li of land with thirty-four fortified cities. Nestled between Fengguo and Huangguo was Huaguo, spanning two thousand li of land with twenty fortified cities. To the east lay Nanguo, spanning one thousand two hundred li of land with ten fortified cities. Among the six nations, Huangguo and Fengguo held the broadest territories and the greatest national power; Huaguo was the wealthiest; Fengguo held a position in the middle; while Baiguo and Nanguo were the weakest.
After the Xuanzun command token disappeared, every hero and ambitious lord under heaven sought to seize it — for whoever possessed it could command all beneath the sky.