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Mistress of The Jade Ambrosia

By: jemkym



It was a sultry night, and Yang glanced over her shoulder as she hastened towards the home of Shihuangdi. It was not uncommon for a mistress of the Emperor Hsüan-Tsung to visit the elderly pharmacist, but their complaints were usually gynecological in nature. Yang's malady was somewhat more embarrassing than a tear in the walls of her labia from the Emperor's insistent probing or her monthly blood refusing to flow. The treatment of her malady required... discretion.

Yang tapped lightly on the door, wondering if the pharmacist was even home. A curt and impatient call of greeting answered her question. Opening the door, Yang stepped inside and closed it behind her. She had required Shihuangdi's services only twice before, but had never seen him at his house. She breathed in sharply. The interior of the home was nothing less than a laboratory. Bunches of drying leaves hung from the mahogany rafters, exuding a pungent miasma of aromas. Phials filled with unpleasant-looking brews lined every shelf of furniture and the pharmacist himself worked at a crowded desk, adding more to the clutter.

Upon seeing a mistress of the Emperor Hsüan-Tsung, Shihuangdi remembered his manners. "Yang Guifei, you have not visited me in months. What brings you tonight?"

Yang knew the pharmacist would only ask of her ailment, treat it and return to his work. It was unwise to associate with a mistress of the Emperor any more than necessary. Appreciating that Shihuangdi would probably want her visit over and done with as quickly as possible, Yang removed several parchments from a padded chair and sat opposite him. "Can you keep a secret?" she asked.

"I can keep a secret from anyone but the Emperor," Shihuangdi replied succinctly. "Tell me of your problem... I shall not repeat it."

Yang frowned. How could she put it? "Shihuangdi, you know I eat a lot."

"Of course. The Emperor likes his women large, so it is good that you do."

"... And the Emperor hosts many feasts."

"I know. He is kind enough to invite me to some of them."

"Afterwards, when we are making love, I... break wind." Yang stared at the floor. She wanted to cry. It was a shameful thing to admit, but she already fallen out of Hsüan-Tsung's good grace and needed to do something before the problem grew worse.

Shihuangdi placed a finger on his lip, clearly deliberating on a solution. It hardly mattered that Shihuangdi didn't notice her sorrow. Shihuangdi was a man wed to his work, and diverting his mind away from his passion for medicine was unthinkable. "I think I may have a remedy," the pharmacist told her. He walked to a nearby cupboard and took down a phial of green liquid, passing it across to Yang. "This comes courtesy of Charles Martel and the Franks. They use it there to stop flatulence in dogs. The palace has used the brew with its own hounds to great effect."

Indignant, Yang rose to her feet. "How dare you compare me to a dog! I will see you strangled for your impertinence, old man."

Shihuangdi shrugged, seemingly unperturbed. "It is the best I can do."

Yang sat back down again. Having Shihuangdi strangled would only exacerbate her problem. The old pharmacist intended her no harm and it was important they remain on good terms. It pained her, but Yang asked, "What is it called?"

"The Franks call it 'assince'. Its main ingredient is a bitter herb grown in Europe known as wormwood. It is very expensive."

"And you give it to dogs?"

"The Emperor is a demanding man, although I am happy to serve him. If he asks that the palace hounds no longer fart in his presence, I will do my utmost to obey."

Yang tasted the word: "Assince..." The Europeans were backwards and barbaric, but perhaps they served a purpose: a higher deity had inhabited the world with Europeans so they might cure flatulence. Yang smiled. It was a pleasant thought, and one that satisfied her. "I will try your assince," Yang told the pharmacist. "And I hope for your sake that it works."

Yang occupied wealthy living quarters in the palace, but they were less than a peasant's hovel when balanced against the chambers of the Emperor Hsüan-Tsung. Yang gazed at herself in the mirror, the rose coloration of her nipples pressing against the sheer material of her gown. She had instructed the seamstress to slice a portion of the gown so that the Emperor might see her gut as soon as she entered his presence.

Fastidiously, Yang adjusted the pearl necklace she wore. The Emperor had summoned her and this would be the first time she tested the effectiveness of the potion Shihuangdi had given her. Assince. The name sounded foreign and it was very expensive, according to Shihuangdi, but the real measure of its worth was whether it worked.

Running her fingers through her dark hair, Yang left her chamber and entered the palace halls. Marble busts of lion adorned either side of this particular hall, and a maroon carpet of exquisite weave stretched its length. Hsüan-Tsung had ordered the execution of the weavers when they didn't complete the carpet on time; their replacements didn't make the same mistake. 

The two eunuchs guarding the entrance to the Emperor's chambers bowed low to Yang as she passed. Yang didn't even bother to grace them with a nod. She was one of the most influential figures in the Emperor's court and her beauty was a powerful weapon, even against eunuchs. The less she associated with commoners and the rank and file, the more likely they would be to treat her as a goddess. 

Unfortunately, her charms didn't work with Hsüan-Tsung. He appreciated her beauty – and he usually told her so as they were making love, in words that would make a courtesan blush – but he tolerated nothing less than unquestioning obedience. Her inner thighs grew moist as she walked through the Emperor's quarters. She was in the bed of the most powerful man in the world.

Yang entered Hsüan-Tsung's personal reception chamber. The Emperor himself lolled on a great divan, picking a selection of rare fruits from a bowl in front of him. His head snapped up when Yang entered, but he relaxed when he saw who it was. Burping, the Emperor pulled his ample frame to his feet and approached his mistress. "Yang Guifei, I have not seen you for some time."

Forbidden to look into Hsüan-Tsung's eyes, Yang stared at the tiled floor. "I do as my Emperor pleases."

Hsüan-Tsung walked around her. "I did so enjoy your sister," he said, "and I thank you for introducing her to the harem."

"This one is pleased to have served the Emperor."

"I would have invited you to listen to my orchestra two nights ago, but you have a bothersome habit that is not... conducive or appropriate when one is listening to sounds meant to purify the soul. Would you agree?" Hsüan-Tsung touched and ran his chubby fingers through Yang's hair.

"I agree with all the Emperor says." 

"That is good, but it matters little." Hsüan-Tsung stepped in behind his mistress, his body pressed close to hers. "I am wrong. It matters nothing for one so beautiful as you. Qu Yuan could not have done your beauty justice, even if he were alive today and had labored on a poem about you since the day of his birth. Your body makes me want to tear off your clothes and mount you."

"You may, if you wish."

Hsüan-Tsung considered the offer. "No, I don't think so. But I would like to thank you for not farting in my presence within the first five minutes of our conversation. How did you do it?"

Yang remained discreet. "I did it for you, using the power of my will."

Hsüan-Tsung smiled as if he were pleasantly surprised. "Consider yourself restored to my favour." He thought for a moment. "You know, that turns me on. I think I'll mount you now, after all."

Yang sat at her cherry wood vanity. With the greatest of concentration, she unstoppered the phial Shihuangdi had given her and poured the assince into a small porcelain cup. It was only natural that a potion the colour of jade possess healing properties. Wasn't Yu Di, first among the gods, called the Jade Emperor?

Bringing the cup to her lips, Yang felt the familiar tingle as the liquid touched her tongue. She closed her eyes. The assince was bitter and – in Yang's opinion – almost indigestible, but she had discovered it did more than stop her breaking wind in the Emperor's presence. It relaxed her... and when she drank enough, she would sometimes fall into a dreamy balm from which no one could rouse her.

None of that mattered. She imbibed the assince to prevent her farting while she was with the Emperor. The Franks had concocted the mixture to stop flatulence in dogs. Yang wrinkled her nose in distaste. She was taking a barbaric medicine, brewed for a barbaric purpose, in the most powerful court in the world. She didn't know how the Emperor would react if he discovered exactly what she was taking to cure her flatulence, and she didn't want to find out. It was enough that the Emperor had restored her to his favour.

"You're looking buxom tonight."

Yang froze. The figure of Hsüan-Tsung stood in the mirror, a curious look on his face. The Emperor was notorious for his rowdy entries and the fact that he had entered the room so quietly worried Yang. She remained motionless for a moment. The phial of assince was still in her hand. Eventually she said, "The Emperor is as stealthy as his finest assassin."

Hsüan-Tsung adjusted his silk robe. "Thank you. I do try to be good at everything I do." He spied the assince. "My, what is that stuff?"

"Assince. I use it as perfume." The Emperor may have ordered Shihuangdi to stop the dogs farting in his presence, but he would not have asked the old pharmacist how he had done it. 

Hsüan-Tsung snatched the phial away from her and held it to his nose. "It smells good enough to drink."

"No!" Yang's voice came out a little too urgent. She regained her composure. "It might be toxic if you ingest it."

"You rub it all over your skin so I hardly see how drinking it would be any different." Hsüan-Tsung inspected his fingernails. "Anyway, you're speaking to a man who has survived six assassination attempts, four of which involved poison. I think I'd be developing a natural immunity to poison by now." Without bothering with further justification, he poured a nip of the liquid down his throat. His eyes bulged, he coughed and he stared at Yang with astonished surprise. "Yu Di, that's potent." He drank some more of the assince, this time rolling it around his mouth. "But you know what? I love it. Where did you get it from?"

"A merchant from the west, my Emperor. He told me he was from Europe."

"I hardly believe a savage could mix something like this. Do you have any more of the brew?"

"I could find some, if it please my Emperor."

"It would please me greatly." The Emperor smiled at his mistress. "The... assince has a marvelously bitter taste, although I would suggest you do not lie to me again. I watched personally as you drank from the phial. I clothe you in the finest silk, but take care that I do not order a silk rope tied about your neck. I would hate for my favourite mistress to die because of her deceitful tongue."

For the first time in her many liaisons with the Emperor, Yang had no answer. She did the only thing she could – remained silent.

Hsüan-Tsung's good mood returned. "I never envisioned you as a hard drinker. It seems even the Emperor is sometimes wrong." The Emperor drank more of the assince. "Yes, I quite enjoy this – and I think I'll make it the new court drink. Taverns across the Empire will search for assince, simply because I made it popular." Hsüan-Tsung inspected his fingernails. "Yu Di, I am powerful."

"You are the most powerful man in the world," Yang told him.

Casually, Hsüan-Tsung stepped forward and slapped Yang across the face. "I don't think I am a man anymore, my dear concubine... The term 'demi-god' is probably more apt."

Yang lowered her face. "This one apologises for her mistake."

"And so you should." Still smiling and with his hands behind his back, the Emperor walked from Yang's chambers. "I will see you at court. Ta!"

Yang carried four phials of assince upon a platter of gold. Just as the Emperor promised, it had become the new fashionable drink at court. Merchants, farmers, artisans and aristocrats across the Empire imbibed of the drink, commenting on its pungent and exotic flavour. Those who drank the assince in moderate amounts sometimes remarked that their bowel movements and overall well-being greatly improved, while those who partook of too much jade ambrosia – as the drink was now popularly called – waxed lyrical about the effects it had when one became intoxicated. None of them knew the elderly royal apothecary Shihuangdi had originally introduced the drink to the Empire for a less... savoury purpose.

Yang was angry and more than a little worried. As the drink grew in popularity, it was increasingly likely that someone would discover its true purpose. That person might relay his discovery to the Emperor, who would instantly think that Yang had made a fool of him and order her strangled. Shihuangdi might even betray her lest his silence incriminate him. Yang was twenty-five years old and didn't feel like dying.

She was angry for another reason. The assince had taken away her control. Before Hsüan-Tsung discovered assince, he had been pliant and tractable. Yang always gave the impression of obeying the Emperor but it didn't take much effort to add her sisters and relatives to the harem and positions at court, her own power growing every week. The assince had stolen that power away from her. The assince, not Yang, controlled the Emperor now. Yang could only obey.

Yang entered the royal bedroom. Emperor Hsüan-Tsung sat at a cedar dresser, carefully removing bits of meat from his teeth with a toothpick. He jumped when Yang cleared her throat and turned around with his toothpick held like a weapon. "Ah, it's you." Hsüan-Tsung had bathed, oiled his hair and donned his finest robe, ensuring he was ready for bed. "I see you have come with my ambrosia, my little green fairy. Bring it to me."

The Emperor had been calling Yang his 'little green fairy' for the past month. She didn't know what it meant and assumed it was just a side effect of the assince. The Emperor was still as suspicious and unpredictable as ever, and Yang walked forward before he had a chance to complain. She knew the expression he wore. He wanted her. His look was salacious as Yang walked towards him. She wore a sky blue robe with the material slit to the hip of one leg. Yang was acutely conscious of the Emperor's eyes roving over her body.

She feared him. A few months ago, Yang had been supremely confident of charming and influencing Hsüan-Tsung however she wished. It was a delicately poised game of chaturanga that she had been winning with ease; now, the assince had evened the odds and given Hsüan-Tsung a cavalier, daring and often unpredictable style of play. Yang hated it.

Yang set the tray on Hsüan-Tsung's dresser. Eagerly, he took a bottle and drank some of the green liquid. The Emperor smacked his lips and grinned at his concubine, raising the bottle in a toast. "It's good to be immortal. I can drink the ambrosia of the gods and fairies such as yourself are too scared to play tricks on me." Hsüan-Tsung frowned at her. "You're quite tall for a fairy." The Emperor reached out and touched the nape of Yang's neck, his finger tracing the line of her collarbone. 

Yang was frightened. "May this one leave now, Emperor?"

"Certainly."

Yang turned and walked towards the door.

"Stop."

Yang stopped. She heard the Emperor get to his feet. She could not turn around, because the Emperor had not commanded her to do so. It was only a few steps to the door... but fleeing now would mean her execution a few hours later.

"I've changed my mind. My little green fairy can't leave so soon."

Roughly, the Emperor grabbed her buttocks. Yang closed her eyes, praying to Yu Di that he would not be rough this time. The Emperor had grown increasingly brutal when making love with her over the past few months to the point where he was now often sadistic. It only happened when he called her the green fairy.

Yang felt the Emperor lift her robe. She wasn't moist and it hurt as he entered her, shoving into her like a desperate pig. The concubine leaned over so that the Emperor might have a better channel inside her and so that it might be over quicker. A few months ago, Yang revelled in her love-making with the Emperor. It was what gave her power at court; now, it was the other way around. Their love-making was Hsüan-Tsung's mark of ownership of and superiority over her.

"I see many fairies," Hsüan-Tsung breathed as he thrust urgently inside her, "but you're the only one who lets me fornicate in you..."

Shihuangdi had become popular with just about everyone in Chang'an over the past few months. He seemed to keep a constant supply of the jade ambrosia flowing into the city and men of all castes toasted him in taverns throughout the Empire's capital. This time, it didn't concern Yang that people might see her visiting Shihuangdi. Enough people came and went here that a concubine from the royal court would arouse no suspicion. After all, everyone in Chang'an knew of the Emperor's penchant for the jade ambrosia.

The royal apothecary had moved to new living quarters since Yang's last visit. Shihuangdi's home was two stories high and made from a scented, light-coloured timber. Approaching the door, Yang knocked and waited. 

A woman answered. She looked to be about Yang's age and wore a servant's robe. Upon seeing a concubine of the imperial harem, she bowed deeply. "What can this one do for you?"

"I wish to see Shihuangdi."

The woman bowed low again. "Come in."

Yang entered the home. The ground floor was pleasantly furnished and there were no signs of medical texts or phials anywhere. Yang could, however, detect the faint scent of herbs. Shihuangdi had done well for himself since she last came to him.

The apothecary himself descended the stairs from the first floor wearing a richly embroidered robe and smiling at the young concubine. "You must leave us," he told the servant, who obeyed instantly. Shihuangdi reached the ground floor and walked over to Yang, his hands clasped behind his back. "I was wondering when you would visit again. I have been meaning to thank you for that night you came to me. Who would have thought that my prescribing you with assince to stop you farting would make me a rich man?" 

Yang clung to the apothecary, all pretence flung out the window. "I fear the Emperor is going to kill me. He grows stranger by the day."

Shihuangdi shrugged. "If the Emperor says you must die, it is his will. I cannot do anything about it."

Despite the apothecary's newfound wealth, Yang possessed far more political power than he. Yang could order his execution and the palace guards would swiftly obey. There was one problem: with his life at so much risk, Shihuangdi would most likely tell Hsüan-Tsung the secret of the assince. The apothecary might die, but Yang would die beside him. She needed him. "You gave me this... poison. Please, help me!"

Shihuangdi shook his head. "The Emperor will not kill you. He has already decreed that any child you bear is the heir to his throne. Do you think he would harm the woman carrying his heir?"

"Yes... But what if the Emperor discovers the original purpose of assince? He will kill us both."

Shihuangdi took a seat. "That is far more serious." He placed a finger against his lips. "I will never tell our Emperor about the nature of the assince, for my life is as likely to be forfeit as yours. I have spoken to the hound master and sworn him to secrecy. There are Yamato assassins about to ensure he keeps his word." 


Mistress of The Jade Ambrosia



"I am still frightened of him. What should I do?"

"It is the assince that does it. Sometimes, it causes delusions. Whenever the Emperor requests the drink, dilute it with something weaker. He may experience painful withdrawals at first, but eventually his system will reorder itself and he'll return to normal."

"What might he do in a withdrawal...?"

"The most common symptom is erratic behaviour," the apothecary said. On seeing Yang's reaction, Shihuangdi continued. "The withdrawals might last a few months. Keep your distance and do everything you can to assuage him. He will be as good as ever in due course."

Yang gave Shihuangdi a small bow. "I thank you for this sage advice." Unconvinced, Yang turned and walked from Shihuangdi's home. The apothecary might be happy to give advice, but he wasn't with Hsüan-Tsung's every day. If anyone was likely to have imperial assassins visit during the night, it was Yang Guifei.

Another summons from the Emperor. Yang was becoming increasingly frightened every time the Emperor called for her. It wasn't only a matter of the violent moods that sometimes engulfed him or his occasional sombre melancholies, but the elaborate network of traps surrounding his chambers. The Emperor often didn't bother to inform members of the imperial court of new traps. Two nights ago, a cook had died bringing a meal of roast pork stuffed with spring onions and vegetables to the Emperor. Hsüan-Tsung claimed the cook had been an assassin sent to murder him.

Yang would have felt better had two of the imperial harem not already succumbed to the Emperor's traps. No one in the palace – not even a concubine – was safe and the amount of time Yang spent with Hsüan-Tsung meant he was likely to eventually blame her for some imaginary crime. While Yang would have loved to flee the palace and head for the mountains in the west, the odds that the Emperor's men would catch her were great.

As always, Yang carried the jade ambrosia with her to the Emperor's quarters. She had poured about one-quarter of the assince from each bottle and replaced it with water. Yang didn't know if the Emperor would notice what she had done, but anything was better than seeing his addiction remain. 

Hsüan-Tsung had started to neglect some of his duties over the past weeks. Always a dynamic man, it was distressing to see justice not served in the imperial court and the Emperor plummet from the brave and meticulous sovereign he'd once been to a drunken and embarrassing sot. Of course, no one said anything to the Emperor's face.

The Emperor sat in a room by the clear azure water of a mosaic-lined pool. He ate fruit off a platter in front of him and seemed quite relaxed. Upon hearing Yang enter, he looked Yang's way and stared at her. Then, without warning, the expression on his face became a glower. He pointed his right index finger. "You. It is natural for an emperor to expect betrayal, but from you?" Hsüan-Tsung almost choked on a grape.

"This one does not understand," Yang said meekly.

"You understand very well," the Emperor hissed. "So many people have been trying to kill me lately, wanting to depose me and steal the throne. I trusted you, my little green fairy. I thought you would always be loyal." Hsüan-Tsung grinned, and it was then that Yang knew insanity had claimed him. "The jade ambrosia taught me to open my mind. You didn't introduce your sisters to the harem because you thought I would love them as I love you; you brought them from that hovel of a village you once called home because it would increase your power." 

A sheet covered the divan upon which Hsüan-Tsung sat. Grabbing the sheet and twisting it into a primitive noose, he approached Yang. The concubine didn't move. If she ran, she would almost certainly trigger a trap. Hsüan-Tsung would scream for the palace guards and order her killed on the spot. With the guards' axes and pikes, her death was likely to be far messier than if an imperial assassin strangled her. Most concubines and mistresses would have given up by now, accepting their fate and the life they had lived. Yang wouldn't give up until the last vestiges of strength fled her body.

"For high treason and conspiring to commit regicide, I sentence you to death by strangulation." Hsüan-Tsung draped the sheet around Yang's throat. It tightened.

Yang fought back. She kneed Hsüan-Tsung in the groin and he suddenly relaxed his grip on the sheet, his expression one of utter pain. The Emperor shrieked and Yang quickly knelt and picked up one of the assince phials she had dropped. Yang held the Emperor's nose and tilted back his head, pouring the liquid down his throat. Much of the jade ambrosia spilled from either corner of Hsüan-Tsung's lips, but when Yang let him go he stumbled forward then collapsed on the floor, vomiting mucus and blood. 

Yang stared at the platter she had dropped. The phial she picked up had survived the fall, but the other had shattered on impact with the hard mosaics. Tiny chips of glass covered the phial of assince she had forced the Emperor to drink. Yang stared at the Emperor. Again, he vomited blood. Those pieces of glass were ripping his throat and stomach lining. There was an excellent chance he might recover, but Yang would certainly lose her life if he did.

A sliver of glass pricked Yang's finger and she yelped in pain. Carefully picking the glass from her fingertip and tossing it on the floor, Yang threw the phial at the Emperor. It struck him on the shoulder. He stared up at her, his expression loathsome. Yang took a couple of steps back. The guards would come when they began to suspect something was amiss and though Hsüan-Tsung had grown progressively more incompetent over the past weeks, it was unlikely they would blame him for anything. The guards would hold responsible the last person to have entered Hsüan-Tsung's presence: Yang. 

Fleeing into the city was too dangerous. A commoner might recognise her and return her to the palace, or worse, a slave trader might abduct her and sell her to a faraway noble. She had spent many years rising to a position of authority in the imperial court and she had no wish to repeat the process. Returning to her chambers would also be foolish. Even if Hsüan-Tsung died, Yang was almost certain the palace guards would blame his death on her. When the executioners came, her death would be swift and deadly. Yang had no wish to die. There was really only one place she could go.

Shihuangdi looked confused when he opened the door to welcome her. Beckoning her inside, the apothecary asked, "What seems to be the matter?"

Glancing over her shoulders, Yang entered the house. Should the palace guards come for her, Shihuangdi would be able to give them a medical explanation for what happened to Hsüan-Tsung. Shihuangdi was a powerful figure at court and while he could not directly contravene the Emperor's orders, his words would at least make the guards pause. Crying now, Yang fled to a low divan and sprawled across it. Sobs racked her body.

The old apothecary sat opposite her. Yang watched him. Lifting a porcelain cup sitting on the table dividing them, Shihuangdi sipped at the steaming tea. "Child, you must tell me what is happening."

There was a risk that Shihuangdi would report her to the palace, but Yang had no better option. It was a gamble. Inhaling deeply, Yang told the apothecary everything that had happened. He listened with the quite patience of apothecaries everywhere and didn't offer advice or opinions during her tale, for which Yang was thankful. Yang was surprised at how coolly she explained what had happened and after a short while her tale ended. There was silence in the home.

"Reasoning won't help," Shihuangdi mused. "Especially if the Emperor is still alive. I fear you have dug a grave from which there may be no escape."

"Can't you use medicine to explain what happened to him?" Yang was desperate.

"I could certainly do so, but if the palace brings in other apothecaries during its investigation... I am a wealthy man now, Yang, and I would like to help the one who made me wealthy. But I can't honestly say that helping you prove you didn't murder or intend harm to the Emperor is worth my life."

Yang felt some of her anger and passion return. She sat, and then stood. Her words were as stiff as her posture. "You gave me the assince; you are responsible for what has happened. And I shall tell everyone in Chang'an the role you played."

"It will be my word against yours. Who do you think people will believe?"

It was a challenge to which Yang had no rebuttal. Shihuangdi was a powerful figure at court and with Yang's recent fall from the Emperor's graces, others were more likely to place faith in his words than hers. Yang was losing the game. She might be losing slowly and through no fault of her own, but random events were what made a living game of chaturanga so interesting.

Yang had no more time to philosophise, for there was suddenly a hammering on the door. "In the name of the Emperor, open up!"

Yang grew wide-eyed. "I must hide!"

"I will tell them where you are," the apothecary said.

Yang considered climbing from a window and escaping into the city, but she doubted if she would make it through the palace gates. Her weight would encumber her and the palace guards were both fast and strong. She would cease running now.

Shihuangdi opened the door. Two palace guards entered bearing halberds. Their eyes locked on Yang. "The Emperor is dead. We believe he consumed too much assince, but he gave a last command." The guard who spoke looked at Yang. "To kill you." Halberds raised, the guards approached...

There was only one move left. Tossing herself onto the wooden floor, tears flooded Yang's eyes. The guards paused for a moment, but they lifted their halberds in preparation to obey Emperor Hsüan-Tsung's final decree. "I am with the Emperor's child!" Yang cried.

Legs open, Yang lay on the bed and bit down on the piece of seaman's rope the apothecary had given her. Perspiration beaded on her forehead as she watched Shihuangdi work expertly to deliver the child. A midwife stood in attendance, her expression one of utter fear. There had been a small war of succession after Emperor Hsüan-Tsung's death and a time when supporting any faction was dangerous. A capable leader, Yang had quashed the rebellions and instigated martial law in Chang'an until everything returned to normal.

Yang hadn't been pregnant when the Emperor died and no one knew Shihuangdi was the father of Yang's child. It was the only way Yang could ensure her safety: she carried the Emperor's heir and would be his regent until he attained his majority. Shihuangdi was the only man Yang could trust to father the child. Others might be tempted to betray her for love or money, but Shihuangdi had something to hide. The popularity of the jade ambrosia had waned after Emperor Hsüan-Tsung's death but many would still wish the old apothecary dead if they uncovered the truth. 

Yang slumped on the bed. She heard the baby's piercing screams and knew she had given birth. "Is it a boy?" she whispered.

"Yes." Shihuangdi held the baby up so that she might look at it. It was hideous. It had two arms, but the stump of another grew from its lower right torso. Scaly plates covered part of its face and one of its legs looked mangled beyond repair.

"What is... it?"

Shihuangdi turned to the midwife. "Jiang, may you leave us?"

The midwife was happy to obey.

The apothecary turned back to Yang. "The Franks give assince to dogs to stop them breaking wind, but they never allow bitches who drink the assince to whelp because the puppies often come out deformed. I thought it might be different with humans..."

"You made me pregnant when you knew this might happen! How could you?" Yang screamed and kicked at the sheets, but little strength remained in her body. She had lost blood during the birth and dizziness soon began to overwhelm her. 

Setting the baby in a cot by the bed, Shihuangdi came to her. He unstoppered the small earthenware phial he carried. "Here, drink this. It is milk of the poppy."

Yang had tasted milk of the poppy before, and this mix tasted different from the others. She let the milk of the poppy swirl on her tongue. There was a bitter flavour to it and the hint of something stronger. Assince. Shihuangdi wanted to control her. The assince would keep her compliant while Shihuangdi gathered power to himself like a farmer scythes wheat. It was for this reason that Shihuangdi had allowed her to drink assince during her birth; her son's appearance would undermine her authority as imperial regent and the nobility's belief in him as the next Emperor. 

Undoubtedly the old apothecary had followers, as no conspirator worked alone. Yang allowed herself a triumphant smile. She would allow them to think the assince had made her and her son puppets to their designs, but she would surprise them. When her son was old enough, it would only take a word in his ear – and they would all die. THE END. 

RECIPES

The 'Zing'

Four parts lemon juice

One part absinthe

1 tablespoon sugar


Yang Guifei's Ambrosia

Two parts absinthe

Two parts Tia Maria

One part Frangelico

Punnet of ripe mulberries

* Use absinthe as a base. Add Tia Maria and Frangelico. Blend mulberries for approximately twenty seconds, add to drink. Serve chilled.

The Favorite Absinthe-Based Drink of the Chinese Emperor Shihuangdi (or Shihuangdi's Nectar)

One part absinthe

Juice of four limes