Podcasts about yue fei

For the Season 9 opener, we bring you a good one that takes place in the early years of the Southern Song Dynasty. Qin Hui, the reviled chancellor of Emperor Gaozong is back again, starring in another Chinese Saying, inspired by his historic perfidy. He conspired with his wife, Lady Wang, to have the great hero Yue Fei rubbed out. Their careful conspiracy, discussed in the utmost secrecy in a private spot in their residence, was somehow discovered. This is the story behind Dōng Chuāng Shì Fā 东窗事发. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

For the Season 9 opener, we bring you a good one that takes place in the early years of the Southern Song Dynasty. Qin Hui, the reviled chancellor of Emperor Gaozong is back again, starring in another Chinese Saying, inspired by his historic perfidy. He conspired with his wife, Lady Wang, to have the great hero Yue Fei rubbed out. Their careful conspiracy, discussed in the utmost secrecy in a private spot in their residence, was somehow discovered. This is the story behind Dōng Chuāng Shì Fā 东窗事发. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

For the Season 9 opener, we bring you a good one that takes place in the early years of the Southern Song Dynasty. Qin Hui, the reviled chancellor of Emperor Gaozong is back again, starring in another Chinese Saying, inspired by his historic perfidy. He conspired with his wife, Lady Wang, to have the great hero Yue Fei rubbed out. Their careful conspiracy, discussed in the utmost secrecy in a private spot in their residence, was somehow discovered. This is the story behind Dōng Chuāng Shì Fā 东窗事发. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

For the Season 9 opener, we bring you a good one that takes place in the early years of the Southern Song Dynasty. Qin Hui, the reviled chancellor of Emperor Gaozong is back again, starring in another Chinese Saying, inspired by his historic perfidy. He conspired with his wife, Lady Wang, to have the great hero Yue Fei rubbed out. Their careful conspiracy, discussed in the utmost secrecy in a private spot in their residence, was somehow discovered. This is the story behind Dōng Chuāng Shì Fā 东窗事发. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

For the Season 9 opener, we bring you a good one that takes place in the early years of the Southern Song Dynasty. Qin Hui, the reviled chancellor of Emperor Gaozong is back again, starring in another Chinese Saying, inspired by his historic perfidy. He conspired with his wife, Lady Wang, to have the great hero Yue Fei rubbed out. Their careful conspiracy, discussed in the utmost secrecy in a private spot in their residence, was somehow discovered. This is the story behind Dōng Chuāng Shì Fā 东窗事发. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

For the Season 9 opener, we bring you a good one that takes place in the early years of the Southern Song Dynasty. Qin Hui, the reviled chancellor of Emperor Gaozong is back again, starring in another Chinese Saying, inspired by his historic perfidy. He conspired with his wife, Lady Wang, to have the great hero Yue Fei rubbed out. Their careful conspiracy, discussed in the utmost secrecy in a private spot in their residence, was somehow discovered. This is the story behind Dōng Chuāng Shì Fā 东窗事发. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

For the Season 9 opener, we bring you a good one that takes place in the early years of the Southern Song Dynasty. Qin Hui, the reviled chancellor of Emperor Gaozong is back again, starring in another Chinese Saying, inspired by his historic perfidy. He conspired with his wife, Lady Wang, to have the great hero Yue Fei rubbed out. Their careful conspiracy, discussed in the utmost secrecy in a private spot in their residence, was somehow discovered. This is the story behind Dōng Chuāng Shì Fā 东窗事发. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

For the Season 9 opener, we bring you a good one that takes place in the early years of the Southern Song Dynasty. Qin Hui, the reviled chancellor of Emperor Gaozong is back again, starring in another Chinese Saying, inspired by his historic perfidy. He conspired with his wife, Lady Wang, to have the great hero Yue Fei rubbed out. Their careful conspiracy, discussed in the utmost secrecy in a private spot in their residence, was somehow discovered. This is the story behind Dōng Chuāng Shì Fā 东窗事发. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this one we pick up our story of Xing Yi, examining the influence of Yue Fei and the great Song generals on the people who were inspired to challenge the increasingly degenerate late Yuan Dynasty. We also look at the influence of the "mythology of the West" in China and of Central Asian religious and spiritual traditions on the White Lotus Society, of which the leaders of the rebellions were members.

Today, we're going to talk about the latest blockbuster that debuted during the traditional Spring Festival holiday, which has evoked interest in and admiration for a national hero who lived during the Southern Song Dynasty about 1,000 years ago.

‘The final cut – the coup de grace – entered Qian's heart, from which black blood the colour and consistency of melted malt sugar slid down the knife blade'In the eighty fifth episode of the Translated Chinese Fiction Podcast, we are experiencing the lacerating pains of Sandalwood Death, as dealt to us by Nobel literature prizewinner Mo Yan. It's time to rip Shandong Province apart in a rebellion for the songbooks. Weapon in hand, the Sun Wukong to my Yue Fei is translator Stefan Rusinov. We laugh, we brood, we hallucinate, and we shake our fists at the craven villain Yuan Shikai, all the while pondering: is torture an artform?-// NEWS ITEMS //A Record of My Battle with the Virus by Han Song, translated by Michael BerryXi Xi: Can We Say // a special issue on the recently late writerGu Long's Blood Parrot, translated by DeathbladeSCMP takes a look at the new prequel to The Wandering Earth-// WORD OF THE DAY //(喵 – miāo – meow)-// MENTIONED IN THE EPISODE //Gao Xingjian - another Han nobel lit prize winnerMo Yan's Life and Death Are Wearing Me OutJiaozhou, Imperial Germany's Shandong colonyStefan's previous TrChFic appearance, discussing Can Xue-// Handy TrChFic Links //Help Support TrChFic // Episode TranscriptsINSTAGRAM

Buoyed by huge Spring Festival movie ticket sales, the first month of the 2023 took a giant leap to become the highest-grossing January of all time in China, according to the China Film Administration.据中国电影局数据显示，受春节档电影票房火爆的影响，2023年的第一个月实现了巨大飞跃，成为中国有史以来票房最高的一月。Selling a total of 201 million tickets for 10 million screenings in over 10,000 cinemas, the country saw its overall box-office earnings exceed 10 billion yuan ($1.48 billion) by Tuesday.截至周二，全国1万多家影院放映1000万场，共售出2.01亿张电影票，总票房收入超过100亿元（14.8亿美元）。This represented a 270 percent increase from 2.7 billion yuan in the same period last year, according to the Beacon, a real-time film data tracker.据实时电影数据追踪机构Beacon称，这一数字较去年同期的27亿元增长了270%。With the rapid expansion of the domestic film industry in recent decades, people have started a new custom of going to cinemas during Spring Festival, turning the weeklong holiday into a lucrative box-office season, insiders said.业内人士称，近几十年来国内电影业的迅速发展，春节期间去电影院成为了人们过年的新习俗，将为期一周的假期变成了一个利润丰厚的票房季。This year, the festival started earlier than usual, with all seven days falling in January. In the past, it either stretched from late January to early February or was entirely celebrated in February.今年的春节比往年开始得更早，春节假期都集中在一月。在此之前，假期要么从1月底持续到2月初，要么完全在2月份。The appealing lineup of seven new movies — coupled with China's optimization of COVID-19 control measures, the first such adjustment in three years — further made the January box-office earnings soar, some analysts said.分析人士表示，七部新电影的阵容让人眼前一亮，加上中国三年来首次优化疫情控制措施，进一步推动了1月份票房的飙升。Full River Red — director Zhang Yimou's twist-studded story loosely inspired from a loyal general who was framed and executed — topped the charts, followed by sci-fi movie The Wandering Earth II and animated film Boonie Bears: Guardian Code in second and third places.《满江红》是张艺谋导演的电影，故事情节颇为曲折，灵感来自一位被陷害致死的忠臣良将。这部电影在榜单上名列榜首，紧随其后的是科幻电影《流浪地球2》和动画电影《熊出没:守护密码》。Zhang's film generated so much enthusiasm among its audiences that many visited the memorial sites of Yue Fei, the Southern Song Dynasty (1127-1279) general whose story inspired the movie, in provinces such as Zhejiang and Henan.张艺谋的电影引发了观众极大的热情，许多人前往浙江和河南等地的岳飞纪念馆参观。岳飞是南宋时期（1127-1279）的将军，他的故事为这部电影带来了灵感。Domestic media reported people also waiting in long lines to see bronze statues of Qin Hui and express their anger toward the then top courtier who framed and executed Yue.国内媒体报道说，人们还排着长队等待观看秦桧的铜像，并对当时陷害和处决岳飞的最高级朝廷官员表示愤慨。据国内媒体报道，人们还排着长队等待观看秦桧的铜像，对当时将岳飞陷害致死的最高朝臣表示愤慨。Sun Jiashan, an associate researcher with China Film Archive, said the robust recovery signals that local filmmakers had honed their skills to give the film industry, which was once struggling due to the closure of cinemas and a dearth of quality movies amid the pandemic, a fresh lease of life.中国电影资料馆副研究员孙佳山表示，强劲的复苏表明，中国电影人已经磨练了技能，让电影业获得了新的生机。在疫情期间，由于电影院关闭和高质量电影的缺乏，电影业一度陷入困境。Rao Shuguang, president of the China Film Critics Association, said the massive box-office success will boost the confidence of Chinese filmmakers and prompt them to make quality movies, and also draw more investors to drive the industry's long-term development.中国影评人协会主席饶曙光表示，票房的巨大成功将增强中国电影人的信心，推动他们制作高质量的电影，同时也吸引更多的投资者来推动行业的长期发展。Buoy英 [bɔɪ] 美 [ˈbui, bɔɪ]v.支持Lucrative英[ˈluːkrətɪv]美[ˈluːkrətɪv]adj.获利多的Hone英 [həʊn] 美 [hoʊn]v. 用磨刀石磨

Over the centuries, Chinese civilization has produced a number of figures who have entered the pantheon of national heroes. Perhaps none is more famous than Yue Fei (1103-42).As the great defender of the Song Dynasty, Yue Fei repeatedly beat back the Jurchen or Jin invaders who swept down from the north. As a notable poet, he left Chinese literature with arguably its most resonant statement on patriotism.Finally, Yue Fei is remembered as an embodiment of the Confucian virtue of undying fidelity. When corrupt Song courtiers conspired with the Jurchens and convinced the Song emperor that his greatest general intended treason, the emperor urgently recalled Yue Fei. Even knowing that the recall was the product of treachery and that to return was to accept execution, Yue Fei welcomed his fate, because his emperor willed it so.In the centuries since, Yue Fei has secured an unshakeable place in the Chinese imagination as the paragon of patriotism and loyalty. The people have mythologized him as an epic hero, and in some temples they even worship him like a god. And his example has served as the template for heroes to come.

Yue Fei is one of the most famous army leaders in history. He fought hard for his country and was very brave.

Yue Fei was a 12th-century Song dynasty general who was betrayed by the minister Qin Hui. Throughout history, his reputation has changed - from symbol of ethnic nationalism to hero of the people - but his status still looms large. Read the article by James Carter: https://supchina.com/2021/01/27/the-evolving-hero-status-of-the-executed-general-yue-fei/Narrated by Kaiser Kuo.

Contrary to some popular internet opinions, the Mongol Empire was not an unprecedented, utterly unique presence on the stage of world history. It was neither the first or the last nomadic empire, though it was certainly the greatest. This depiction of the Mongol Empire as a total historical aberration is due, perhaps, to a lack of context. When one learns of the Mongols through hyperbole and dramatized retellings of the rise of Chinggis Khan, it neighbours portrayed only long enough to explain their destruction, it is easy to feel you’re learning about perhaps the only nomadic empire to really conquer anything, instead of just raiding. In this episode, we will provide first a very brief history of Mongolia based nomadic empires- not encyclopedic, but enough to give you an idea of what the precedent here was. Then, we will explain the first of what is known in Chinese history as the ‘conquest dynasties,’ the Khitan Liao Dynasty, the Tangut Xi Xia Dynasty, and the Jurchen Jin Dynasty, who laid the groundwork for the Asia Chinggis Khan would emerge into. With that background, it will make puts the events of the conquest of China into greater context for you, our dear listener, so that the significance of particular events should perhaps take greater event. Now, prepare yourself as we take a speedy 1,000 year journey through Mongolian and northern Chinese history.  In broad strokes, we must first note that the Empire founded by Chinggis Khan in 1206 was not the first empire ever based in Mongolia. For that honour we must go back over 1400 years to the Xiongnu Empire, a tribal confederation founded around 209 BCE, perhaps a reaction to the unification of China under their first imperial dynasty, the Qin Dynasty. The well known Terracotta warriors come from the magnificent tomb of the first emperor, Qin Shi Huangdi, to place this into a well known context. The Xiongnu’s military might put the Qin’s successors, the famed Han Dynasty into what was essentially a vassal relationship, forcing them to send tribute for decades. Before the rise of the Mongols, the Xiongnu were the archetypal nomadic threat to the Chinese, who struggled to find ways to successfully resist their pressure. One effort was to ‘civilize’ the Xiongnu by sending them Chinese brides and goods, to force the Xiongnu to become dependent on them. It proved expensive and unsuccessful, and with the Xiongnu based still in Mongolia, they could maintain the divide between their society and the Chinese. The Han saw more success militarily, building border walls, expanding towards Central Asia to cut off the Xiongnu from their client kingdoms on whom they depended for revenues and forming alliances with various tribes along the Xiongnu’s border- although military operations into Mongolia proper were difficult and costly for the Chinese. What finally allowed the Han to overcome the Xiongnu was the end of their long unity. Unlike effectively every other nomadic confederation to follow them, the Xiongnu maintained a remarkable degree of unity from 209 until 60 BCE. The civil war which broke out over the Xiongnu ruler’s succession was the true end of their confederation. Various claimants sought support from the Chinese, increasing Chinese influence, weakening the central authority of the Xiongnu ruler, encouraging their enemies and ultimately, resulting in the fragmentation of the confederation and rise of other powers in Mongolia.   Now, you may ask, why did we have all that preamble for events literally over a millennium before Chinggis Khan? The reason is because of trends which will be apparent in this, and future episodes: The significance of Chinese goods and tribute, as something desired by the nomads, and a tool to be used by Chinese with the intention of ‘corrupting,’ or from the Chinese point of view, ‘civilizing’ the nomads, forcing them to lose their military edge in favour of the finer things. The great military potential of the nomads, and the difficulty the various Chinese dynasties had operating militarily directly in the vast Mongolian steppe, where the nomads could easily escape on horseback or surround them And nomadic unity: when they organized, the various nomadic powers were an incredibly potent weapon. But when they fragmented, invariably due to a succession crisis, their infighting was horrific, and old micro-tribal loyalties would assert themselves over the macro-tribal confederation. Wise Chinese dynasties would play these tribes off on-another, providing goods, resources or even military support to a certain leader, keeping the nomads at each other’s throats and preventing them from unifying and directing their fearsome energy to the south.     The Xiongnu was among the most stable and longest lasting tribal union in Mongolia’s history. Among these successors included the Xianbei confederation, founded in the late first century CE, then the Rouran, the first to use the title of Khan, then the Gokturk Khaganaes, and the Uighur Khaganate, which collapsed in 840 CE. All rose to power in what is now modern Mongolia, forming mighty empires which spanned huge territory and threatened the Chinese Dynasties. The Gokturks, in particular, saw their influence stretch even to Crimea, and proved highly influential to Turkic peoples who emerged in the following centuries.   One thing we have not noted as of yet, is the make up of these empires. Were they Mongols? Proto-Mongolic? Turks? Irish? Well, prior to the Gokturks, known also as the Turkic Khaganates, who were unequivocally turkic tribes speaking turkic languages, the make up of these confederations is a messy, messy thing. Many a long academic paper has been written arguing for Mongolic, Altaic, Tungusic, Turkic, and many more, for the identity of these various earlier empires. These were all ethnically quite diverse, various tribes united by charismatic leadership or by one tribes military might. This is part of why these states suffered such violent fragmentations: once that leadership stopped being charismatic enough, generally associated with the death of a major monarch and conflict for the throne between his sons or brothers, then those old tribal ties would reassert themselves. These were not nation-states, but better thought of as military alliances. The constituent peoples who made up the empire could have all been nomads, but speaking totally unrelated languages, lacking a common identity beyond “we’re not sedentary or Chinese.”   The Uighur Khaganate, a Turkic empire, was destroyed in 840 under the assault of the Yenisei Kirghiz, who did not establish their own empire. Many Uighur moved south, to Gansu and Turfan in what is now modern China. With the fall of the Uighurs, and at a similar time the Tibetan Kingdom, China’s mighty Tang Dynasty, the most powerful Dynasty since the Han and the latest to unify the country, had lost its main rivals of the last century, and had no major nomadic threat on its border. However, the Tang Dynasty was well past its prime and collapsed in 907, creating a power vacuum across the whole of China. While China went through its favourite process of small kingdoms fighting their way back to unity, in the north a people speaking a Mongolic-language had unified, and were to proclaim their own kingdom, the first of the conquest dynasties.    Oh yes, you guessed it: the Khitans!    A nomadic group from southern Manchuria, culturally and linguistically close to the Mongols, under their chief Abaoji they declared their own empire after the final collapse of the Tang in the early 900s. Now, this was not a confederation/military alliance in the likes of the Xiongnu, where the ruler’s actual authority outside of military direction was limited, but a true, structured state, one which took on the outward trappings of a Chinese dynasty. In fact, among other things, they took their own dynastic name in the style of other Chinese Dynasties, Abaoji choosing Liao, from a river in their territory in southern Manchuria. The Khitan Liao empire incorporated much of Mongolia, Manchuria, and the very north of China, with what is now modern Beijing made their southern capital, a part of China known to their contemporaries as the 16 prefectures. The Khitans practiced a style of government which would be picked up by their nomadic successors, known as the dual administration system, to accommodate the nomadic tribesmen and vast sedentary Chinese population within their empire. Under this system, the nomadic tribes who made up the military core, command and the elite, were governed according to their own tribal customs, while the Chinese were separately administered under their own laws, its bureaucracy there based off the Tang model.   In Mongolia, the Khitan presence was not extensive, but it was notable especially in the east. Military forts and garrisons were established across the steppe, such as Bars-Hot, which were also centres of trade and provided valuable, reliable smiths. Essentially, they kept the peace, offering a stability to the region, though details on this aspect come as much from archaeology as they do the textual record: what happened on the steppe between nomads was not often of interest to Chinese writers. It does not seem to have been a level of control like that of the Manchu occupation centuries later.   Khitan rule in northern China lasted two centuries, and their name became the basis for Kitai or Cathay, the name by which China is known in a number of languages. Their rule was not uncontested: the most notable conflict was with the Song Dynasty which emerged in the south, swallowing up the petty kingdoms south of the Yellow River in the decades following the collapse of the Tang. The Song will be a dynasty we will revisit later in this series, but for now know this: while the northern conquest dynasties were ruled by nomadic or semi-nomadic peoples over a Chinese population, the Song were ruled by Chinese and considered themselves the heirs of Tang, though deliberately weakened the power of their military, to their later chagrin. The Song sought to bring the aforementioned 16 prefectures back under Chinese rule, and to this end fought a series of inconclusive wars with the Liao. The Song proved unable to wrest control from the Liao, while the Khitans were unable to push deep into Song territory, though they had a notable expedition to the Song capital of Kaifeng, culminating in the Treaty of Chanyuan in 1005, finalizing the border and the Song providing large amounts of silver and silk annually to appease the Liao. This was an often uneasy peace, one punctuated by raids and expeditions. The Song, for their part, cultivated extensive forests along their border with the Liao, an effort to hampher the cavalry which was so important to the Khitans.    The other notable relationship which emerged in this period, was with the Tangut Kingdom, known also as the Xi Xia Dynasty. The Tangut ancestors were a Tibetan people who had moved into the Gansu corridor, a sparse desert region of oasis cities, the great Ordos loop of the western Yellow River and the fertile valley known today as Ningxia. Slowly granted rights by the Tang Emperors, like many others they asserted their independence with the fall of the Tang, first as Kings, then in 1038 declaring their own empire, taking the dynastic name of Xi Xia, though they knew themselves as the State of White and High. The Tangut Kingdom was a peculiar little state: Buddhism was strong there, with Chinese Confucianism finding little ground. It was a diverse though small population of approximately three million, with Tangut rulers, about half the general population Han Chinese, and the remainder various Turkic or Tibetan peoples, a strong nomadic and agricultural element. They created their own script, visually similar to Chinese but distinct: likewise, their government had Chinese trappings but internally unique, and did not use the dual administration system of the Liao. Unfortunately due to the Mongols, little information on their internal structure survives to us. They had a strong, cavalry based military, though they lacked the great offensive potential of their neighbours in the steppes or the Khitans. Generally seen as trade oriented, especially in the 12th century they turned their attention to the silk routes in the west as much as they did the east, and had influence towards the Tarim Basin. A favoured destination for leaders in the Mongolian steppe seeking refuge, their relationship with the Khitan was amicable and had marriage relations with them: while with the Song Dynasty it often took the form of raids, urging the Khitans to join them in attack. Visually, the Tangut had a rather unique hair style which bears brief mention: known as a tufa, the head was shaved except for the bangs and temples, framing the forehead.Trust me when I say it is incredibly ugly, but it does make it easy to identify them in surviving artworks.   Though their rule was long, the Liao rulers after Abaoji were not his equals. Much like their successor conquest dynasties, the Khitan struggled between adopting Chinese customs and maintaining their nomadic heritage. One place this was manifested was the succession, something to take note of for future discussion. The Liao Emperor, often influenced by his wives,often wanted t a designated heir, as per the Chinese style. Yet the Khitan elite wanted to maintain the nomadic preference for electing who they saw as the most suitable ruler, a choice which could be from the emperor’s sons or brothers. In this case, most suitable often meant whoever had developed the greatest military reputation or contacts, or who this elite thought could be most malleable. These disputes could manifest into assassination, and neither the Liao nor the Mongols would ever find a suitable solution to this problem at the imperial level. The later Liao Emperors struggled to deal with the rebellions along their borders, such as the Tatars in Mongolia, and in Manchuria, the Bo-hai peoples of the former Bo-hai kingdom in the far east, and the Jurchen tribes in the north, and the ones to usurp the Khitans.   The Jurchen tribes were the ancestors of the Manchu, and a semi-nomadic Tungusic people, nomadizing only a part of the year and inhabiting a large swath of territory from northeastern Manchuria towards the Yalu River. The Liao court classified them into three broad groups, based on proximity to China: the ‘civilized’ Jurchen, the closest, around the Liao River who were under firm control and generally assimilated to Chinese culture. North of them were the ‘obedient’ Jurchen, under regular contact and, well, obedient. Beyond them were the largest group, the ‘wild’ Jurchen, of the middle valley of the Sungari and the eastern mountains of Heilongjiang. They were vassals of the Liao, but the court held little direct power there. Originally split between numerous small tribes and clans in spread out villages, over the eleventh century the wild Jurchen were gradually unified by the Wan-yen clan, who gained recognition and titles from the Liao. Though the Liao court held little direct control over the wild Jurchen, they could still pose a threat if they turned their might to them, and the Jurchen rankled over the perceived abuses of the Khitan border guards, a sentiment worked up by the ambitious Wan-yen chief, Aguda.    The ultimate fall of the Liao Dynasty rose from a well known incident. It was the custom of the Liao Emperor to go on seasonal hunting and fishing trips into Manchuria, during which the tribes and chiefs of the region would come and pay homage to the Liao Emperor. As a gesture of submission, each chief would stand up and dance before him. During this ceremony in winter 1112, when it came time for Aguda to dance before the emperor, he refused. Annoyed, the Liao Emperor asked him again. Again, Aguda refused. On the third time, Aguda still refused. Incensed, the Liao Emperor wanted to execute Aguda for his insolence, but was talked out of it by his chancellor, allegedly saying something along the lines of ‘what harm could he do?’   In 1113, Aguda was elected chief of the Wild Jurchen; in autumn 1114, he began raiding the Liao frontier. That winter, he crushed Liao armies sent against him, and several border prefectures surrendered to him. By the start of 1115, Aguda had declared himself emperor of a new Jin Dynasty. What followed was the shockingly quick collapse of the Liao. A campaign by the Liao Emperor against Aguda was undermined when his court appointed his uncle as emperor in his absence. The Bo-hai in the east rebelled, killed their Khitan viceroy and submitted to the Jurchen. In 1118, Aguda crossed the Liao River, and the next year the Song Dynasty opened contact with the Jin, hoping to use this as a chance to regain those lost prefectures.   After a round of failed negotiations between Jin and Liao, war resumed in 1120. The supreme capital of the Liao Dynasty fell almost immediately, the imperial tombs sacked. By 1122, the Liao Emperor fled to inner Mongolia while his empire was swallowed by the Jurchen armies, their heavy cavalry rolling over all in their path. The Tangut attempted to aid the Khitans, but their army was swiftly defeated and forced to offer tribute. The Song, their armies initially distracted by war with the Tangut and an internal revolt, were finally able to attack the Liao, though embarrassingly were repulsed. This would not be the last time the Song would ally against their current enemy with a dangerous nomadic group from the north.   The final Liao emperor was soon joined by the able general Yelu Dashi, a distant relation who brought with him the empress and a number of Khitan troops. Yelu Dashi however, quickly became disillusioned with the Liao Emperor’s incompetence and abandoned him, gathering up the Khitan garrisons of Mongolia and moving west to Central Asia. There, he founded the Qara-Khitai Empire, a state we will revisit in the future. By doing so, the garrison outposts in Mongolia were abandoned, and there was no reason at this time for the Jin to expand their presence into the steppe, leaving Mongolia in a power vacuum. The Liao Emperor was finally captured in 1125 by the Jin, and spent his final years humiliated and imprisoned. Thus ended the Liao Dynasty.   Aguda did not live to see this great success, dying in 1123 a few months after concluding the alliance treaty with the Song. The Song still hoped to gain those prefectures back, but their poor military performance, and the overwhelming might of the Jin armies, radically changed the balance of power as the Liao state disintegrated. The relationship was tense, and by the end of 1125 the Jin under Aguda’s brother attacked the Song. Once more, Jin success was shocking. By 1127, the Song capital of Kaifeng had fallen, the emperor captured and the dynasty was reeling. Jin advance forces were even able to cross the Yangtze River. Yet it seems the speed and scale of their conquest was too rapid, and they struggled to hold onto the vast territory they now controlled. Local militias sprang up to resist the Jurchen, and Song forces rallied under the command of the talented Yue Fei, who pushed the Jin back over the 1130s, culminating in a peace treaty in 1142 which set the Huai River as their border. The older Song-Liao treaty was used as a basis, and the Song had to deliver 250,000 bales of silk and bolts and silver yearly, and the Jin Emperor was to be regarded as the ‘elder brother’ of the Song emperor, now based in Hangzhou in the south. Though the war would flare up again between the two, the treaty of 1142 effectively set the borders of China until the Mongol conquests.    For the Song Dynasty, this was a grand humiliation, the total loss of northern China to the invaders. 1127 is the end of what is known as the ‘Northern Song Dynasty,’ its salvaged successor the ‘Southern Song,’ which found trade and economics more to their skill than military aspects. The Jin Dynasty, at its height in the 12th century, was perhaps the single greatest military on earth. The Jurchen state had a number of problems however. Perhaps four million Jurchens now ruled over fifty million northern Chinese. Many of the Khitans of the Liao had not left with Yelu Dashi, but remained in northern China. The Jin borders were distant, their territory vast: garrisoning the entire kingdom with just Jurchen troops was impossible. Khitans and Chinese were incorporated in large numbers into the army, but excluded from promotion in both the military and government. The Khitans, still skilled horsemen, did not forget or forgive the loss of their dynasty, and rebelled periodically. The long reign of Emperor Shizong, from 1161-1189 was a golden age for Jin rule, but saw a growing sinicization of the Jurchen rulers, separating them from their kinsmen remaining in Manchuria. Under Shizong’s successors, corruption became endemic and was compounded by intense natural disasters, particularly devastating flooding of the Yellow River in the early 1190s. Like the Liao, the Jin ruled through a dual administrative structure, and maintained the Liao practice of having five capitals, one of which was at the site of modern Beijing. Prohibitions were made preventing Jurchen from wearing Chinese clothes or to learn Chinese and vice versa, in an effort to preserve Jurchen culture, and Chinese were even forbidden from calling the Jurchen ‘barbarians.’ Unique Jurchen scripts were developed, and Jurchen bards were to play the old songs in the emperor’s presence. These efforts could not halt the steady flow of assimilation, however, and only in the Manchurian homeland, removed from the Chinese culture altogether, were any Jurchens able to resist sinicization   This was China as the Mongols would find it in the thirteenth century: the Jurchen ruled Jin Dynasty in the north, a massive military power but spread thin over its vast borders, its rulers adopting Chinese customs, important sections of its military and population, especially the Khitans, feeling alienated and disrupted by natural disasters. Conflict would be renewed with the Song Dynasty in the south in 1206, the heirs of the Tang Dynasty who still dreamt of bringing the north back under Chinese control, but though their economic might in the Asian trade routes was significant, militarily they were not the equals of the conquest dynasties. In the northwest, the Tangut ruled Xi Xia dynasty bordered the Mongolian steppe, a small but sturdy state which was the vassals of the Jin, but had no great love for the Jurchen. A fractured China, ready to descend into warfare with the correct spark. That sparks name would be Chinggis Khan.   We hope that you have enjoyed this introduction to 13th century, a basis for our explanation on the upcoming Mongol conquests, so be sure to hit subscribe to the Kings and Generals podcast and to continue helping us bring you more outstanding content, please visit our patreon at www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. Thank you for listening, I am your host David and we will catch you on the next one!

In this episode we discuss the role of General Zhang Jun in the survival of Yue Fei's tradition, as well as in the survival of members of Yue Fei's extended family. We also discuss how Zhang Jun managed to protect himself from the purges carried out by Qin Hui.

We examine the life of Yue Fei's best friend, General Han Shizhong, and the circumstances immediately following the death of Yue Fei. We also take a look at the the life of Han's heroic wife, Liang Hongyu, and internal politics of the Jin Empire at that time.

Controversy can be a challenging word around the Yum Cha table. Even when all the dishes being pushed around by the Yum Cha girls are all so temptingly delicious. It can be a little humbling to discover that what gets served with the rice is usually Jasmine Green tea: the typical ordinary default choice for most people. During the Southern Song Dynasty, there was a General named Yue Fei 岳飛 who came to represent the epitome of loyalty in Chinese culture because he remained loyal, right to the end of his life when killed by conspiracies within the imperial court. Thankfully nowadays, as they sip their cups of Jasmine Green tea, most people never have to experience such a controversial life. Rather, we are blessed by an abundance never known by most people living before us. The martial arts of Xingyi Quan 形意拳, like its acclaimed ancestor Yue Fei 岳飛, is an internally focused style that also carries its fair share of controversy. Whether you believe any of it or not, Southern Song General Yue Fei created a style for his officers and soldiers to use in the heat of battle through the use of explosive internal chi by way of the fist or spear. Passed down from Yue Fei to Divine Fist Li - Li Luoneng 李洛能, the style has become rich and varied in our time, just like all those yum cha dishes. Hence something easy on the palette has to be drunk to cut through it all; practically and effectively. And Jasmine Green tea is what cuts through all of it. It is like a bitter-sweet refresher that allows one to enjoy all the dishes in their respective turn, just like a Xingyi fighter taking down one opponent at a time with explosive grace and ease. Controversial this may all be. The style of Xingyi Quan 形意拳 has always been so. Within the form resides the mind: within the complex reside the simple. And that is why the humble Jasmine Green tea reigns at the Yum Cha table. Liked what you heard & want to connect with me? Join me at… linkedin.com/in/peterhainzl/

We come at last to the great general Yue Fei's greatest victories, and ultimate betrayal and death - at the hands of corrupt officials on his own side.

In part 3 of our series on Xing Yi, we look at how the Li movement influenced Yue Fei and other Song generals in formulating effective strategies for use against the Jin, and how they managed to challenge the previously unbeatable dominance of the Jin cavalry. We also discuss the rise to power of chancellor Chin Hui in the regime of Emperor Gaozong.

In this episode the look at the early life of Yue Fei, some of the factors that link him to the Li Movement, the meaning of some of the symbolism surrounding him, and the reasons for the transition between the Northern Song and Southern Song Dynasties.

In this episode we discuss significant events that occur between the end of the Han Dynasty and the beginning of the Song Dynasty, in particular highlighting issues that form the background to the life of the famous Song Dynasty general, Yue Fei, who has traditionally been attributed as a progenitor of Xing Yi and other martial arts.

General Yue Fei will reach career highs as he strikes back against Jurchen aggression with remarkable success. He'll drive his enemies so fast and hard, that he'll drive the Jin Dynasty close to its breaking point. But on the precipice of victory, ministerial machinations back in Hangzhou will spell the undoing of him and his life's work...

General Yue Fei will reach career highs as he strikes back against Jurchen aggression with remarkable success. He'll drive his enemies so fast and hard, that he'll drive the Jin Dynasty close to its breaking point. But on the precipice of victory, ministerial machinations back in Hangzhou will spell the undoing of him and his life's work...  See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

In this first of a two-part look into the life and legend of this epic Chinese hero, we chronicle Yue Fei's early life and education, his induction into the military to serve his nation with utmost loyalty, his meteoric rise through the ranks, and his stalwart resolve in facing the greatest crisis his country his known in centuries, all while garnering a cult-like following of soldiers, and the panicked attention of the imperial court. Time Period Covered: 1103-1137 CE Major Works Cited: Foster, Robert W. The Human Condition in Premodern China. Jenne, Jeremiah. “The Execution of Yue Fei: 875 Years of Patriotic Myth” from radiichina.com Li, Xiaobi. China at War. Lorge, Peter. War, Politics and Society in Early Modern China, 900-1795. Mote, Fredrick W. “Ch. 13: The Southern Song and Chinese Survival” in Imperial China 900-1800. Tao, Jing-shen. “The Move to the South and the Reign of Kao-tsung” in The Cambridge History of China, Vol. 05: The Sung Dynasty and Its Precursors, 907-1279. Wills, Jr., John E. E. Mountain of Fame: Portraits in Chinese History. Zhou, Zuoren, trans. Tim Cronen. “A View of the Hero Yue Fei and the Traitor Qin Hui” in The China Heritage Quarterly No. 28, December 2011.

In this first of a two-part look into the life and legend of this epic Chinese hero, we chronicle Yue Fei's early life and education, his induction into the military to serve his nation with utmost loyalty, his meteoric rise through the ranks, and his stalwart resolve in facing the greatest crisis his country his known in centuries, all while garnering a cult-like following of soldiers, and the panicked attention of the imperial court.Time Period Covered:1103-1137 CEMajor Works Cited:Foster, Robert W. The Human Condition in Premodern China.Jenne, Jeremiah. “The Execution of Yue Fei: 875 Years of Patriotic Myth” from radiichina.comLi, Xiaobi. China at War.Lorge, Peter. War, Politics and Society in Early Modern China, 900-1795.Mote, Fredrick W. “Ch. 13: The Southern Song and Chinese Survival” inImperial China 900-1800.Tao, Jing-shen. “The Move to the South and the Reign of Kao-tsung” in The Cambridge History of China, Vol. 05: The Sung Dynasty and Its Precursors, 907-1279.Wills, Jr., John E. E. Mountain of Fame: Portraits in Chinese History.Zhou, Zuoren, trans. Tim Cronen. “A View of the Hero Yue Fei and the Traitor Qin Hui” in The China Heritage Quarterly No. 28, December 2011.  See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

The JURCHEN JIN reigns. Having decimated the Song Dynasty, Emperor Jin Taizong now deploys his merciless legions to seize military control of the Yellow River Valley. Only Prince Zhao Gou and his band of LOYALIST ministers stand against the rising tyranny, certain that the last scion of Zhao can yet restore a spark of hope to the fight. But the Loyalists have been exposed. As the Jin cavalry speeds toward Yintian Fu, the brave heroes mount a desperate escape.... Historical Period Covered: 1127-1130 CE Major Historical Figures: Song Dynasty: Prince Zhao Gou, Prince of Kang (Emperor Gaozong of Song) [r. 1129-1162] Chancellor Li Gang [1083-1140] Yue Fei, LEGENDARY CHINESE HERO [1103-1142] General Zong Ze, He Tried [d. 1129] General Du Cheng, Brave Sir Du Ran Away... Bravely Ran Away, Away! General Han Shizheng, He Means Business Jin Dynasty: Emperor Taizong of Jin (Wuqimai) [r. 1123-1135] Prince Wanyan Wuzhu, Commander of Jin Strikeforce [d. 1148] Zhang Bangchang, Puppet Emperor of Great Chu [r. 1129-1129]

The JURCHEN JIN reigns. Having decimated the Song Dynasty, Emperor Jin Taizong now deploys his merciless legions to seize military control of the Yellow River Valley.Only Prince Zhao Gou and his band of LOYALIST ministers stand against the rising tyranny, certain that the last scion of Zhao can yet restore a spark of hope to the fight.But the Loyalists have been exposed. As the Jin cavalry speeds toward Yintian Fu, the brave heroes mount a desperate escape....Historical Period Covered:1127-1130 CEMajor Historical Figures:Song Dynasty:Prince Zhao Gou, Prince of Kang (Emperor Gaozong of Song) [r. 1129-1162]Chancellor Li Gang [1083-1140]Yue Fei, LEGENDARY CHINESE HERO [1103-1142]General Zong Ze, He Tried [d. 1129]General Du Cheng, Brave Sir Du Cheng Ran Away... Bravely Ran Away, Away!General Han Shizheng, He Means BusinessJin Dynasty:Emperor Taizong of Jin (Wuqimai) [r. 1123-1135]Prince Wanyan Wuzhu, Commander of Jin Strikeforce [d. 1148]Zhang Bangchang, Puppet Emperor of Great Chu [r. 1129-1129]  See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Never Alone, Never Unarmed by Bobby Sun   The fighting spider sat heavily in Kian Boon’s left palm, where he’d knocked it from its leafy abode. It was maybe a centimeter and a half from the tip of its pedipalps to the silky spinnerets of its abdomen, black and silver like one of the sleek Chinese centipedals that increasingly frequented the roads below his building. He could feel the weight of the thing as he cupped his hand around it and it jumped, smacking against the roof of his fingers.     Oh hi, Rey. Hi. What are you doing? Oh, are you coming over here to smell. I know, Rey. I know. You're a good dog. But, I gotta do this recording. Yeah. [Intro music plays] Hello, welcome to GlitterShip Episode 59 for August 27th, 2018. This is your host, Keffy, and I'm super excited to be sharing this story with you. Today, we have a GlitterShip original, "Never Alone, Never Unarmed" by Bobby Sun, and a poem, "Feminine Endlings" by Alison Rumfitt. Before we get started, I want to let you know that GlitterShip is part of of the Audible Trial Program. This means that just by listening to GlitterShip, you are eligible for a free 30 day membership on Audible, and a free audiobook to keep. One book that I listened to recently is They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera. I will warn you, this young adult book is full of feelings. That said, I thought it was a great example of queer tragedy rather than tragic queers. In a near future world, everyone gets a phone call between midnight and 3am of the day that they're going to die. They Both Die at the End follows two teen boys who got that call on the same day. I loved how tender the book was, but here's your warning: have tissues on hand. To download a free audiobook today, go to www.audibletrial.com/glittership and choose an excellent book to listen to. Whether that's They Both Die at the End or maybe even something that's a little less emotionally strenuous.     Alison Rumfitt is a transgender writer who studies in Brighton, UK. She loves, amongst other things: forest, folklore, gothic romance, and wild theories about her favorite authors being trans. Her poetry has previously been published in Liminality, Strange Horizons, and Eternal Haunted Summer. Two of her poems were nominated for the Rhysling award in 2018. You can find her on Twitter @gothicgarfield.     Feminine Endlings by Alison Rumfitt   I’m the last one with a mouth I think the last onewho still has a tongue that can dance the lastto dance or move the last to use her lungs likelungs were used like they used to be likea soft ball of feathers being blown by a galeI am the full stop I think the forest is different for menow, I can’t see the others, and I cannot think of them,all the trees have changed shapethey now carry new sub-meaningsdeep in their bark new grubs are bornscreaming from podsto chew at my placethis citywhich I knew so wellwhich I knew automatically could navigate as an automatonturning left and right the moment I sensed itit’s gone, somewhere, when I had my back turneddrinking away in a clearingnow the people have different colored eyesit’s far less bursting and different than my old days tell methe sun left along withall of the people I was in love with the city the forestthe cave-system the desert the habitat adapts to thethings that dwell in it the things inside itevolve to be more like their future selvesand I hate the way it makes me feelbecause I like knowing where I am— the last Tasmanian Tiger died in a zoo from neglectas a storm ripped at her cage she lay in the cornerhead tucked under her arm the lastStephens Island wren was clawed to deathby the first cat she fell to the grass feeling theteeth around her shallow headthe last Passenger Pigeon was stuffedshe sits in a glass boxtelling everyone who visits that everything will changeand you will die eventuallyand nothing really matters if you don’t want it toand there’s so many of uswho died somewhere alone the last of a kindwithout a name or a grave-marker or ashesto be put upon a fireplace or manteland I hate that I could end up the sameforgotten under piles of new babies with new waysof thinking new streets built over my houseas a lightning strike burns down the tree I hid inthe end of a line marks the place where you know what the lineis the end of a species or a group or a life marks thedefinition of said species or group or lifeso the end of me matters and the end of mewill live on past the rest of me so if I endthe same way all the others do I becomethe same as all the others I am notme I am them but I am me if I end neveror if I end when it becomes thematicallymeaningful which is why nothing matters nowbut then it will it will really matter everything will matterthe last trans woman on earthstanding on a pile of trans womenthe only thing that tells you she is ‘she’ isshe rhymes unstressed which is arbitrarymaybe we won then if the last woman is herif the last trans woman in a new worldwhere everyone is nothingshe is this wonderfulthing happy in a house builton the dead made of the dead maybe eating the deadon her own making her own fun readingcoding tattooing herself with notes and appendixesif it's her then perhaps the perfect final note of Us is— This, old Death slowly walking opening the door to meet herand he nods and she nods and the world becomes a little darker.     Bobby Sun is a Chinese-Malaysian author and spoken-word poet who grew up in Singapore and is studying in London. His work has previously been published on Tor.com as well as in the inaugural Singapore Poetry Writing Month ("SingPoWriMo") anthology (as Robert Bivouac), and in Rosarium Publishing's anthology of Southeast Asian steampunk, The SEA is Ours: Tales from Steampunk Southeast Asia as Robert Liow.     Never Alone, Never Unarmed by Bobby Sun   The fighting spider sat heavily in Kian Boon’s left palm, where he’d knocked it from its leafy abode. It was maybe a centimeter and a half from the tip of its pedipalps to the silky spinnerets of its abdomen, black and silver like one of the sleek Chinese centipedals that increasingly frequented the roads below his building. He could feel the weight of the thing as he cupped his hand around it and it jumped, smacking against the roof of his fingers. He kept his left hand closed and extracted a jar from a raggedy, home-made satchel. The jar was double-layered; between the inner and outer layers of chitinous plastic shrilk was water, kept reasonably below the ambient temperature with a simple synthorg heat sink he’d Shaped himself. The spring-sealed jar flicked open as Kian Boon visualized and nudged a couple of its Shape-threads. He dropped the spider in, snapped the jar shut and let the cooling take effect. This little thing, all of approximately two grams, was worth about a dollar; iced Coklat for two at the kopitiam near his school. The jar, of course, wasn’t part of the deal. His buyers would need a container of their own. Kian Boon swatted at a mosquito, then pushed his way deeper into the vegetation. He winced as a twig scratched his cheek. There were still four jars left to fill, though, and it was only nine on a Saturday morning. The air was thick with mist, and the leaves still hung with dew. White-headed birds hopped through the trees, leaping from branch to branch and snatching red berries off their stems. Somewhere above him a male koel sounded off. The sun filtered through the canopy, dappling the ground in pixel-patterns; Kian Boon made a game of dancing through them. This area was new to him. He’d heard of it only because Aidil, a rival spider-hunter from the neighbouring class, had let it slip to his sister. She’d told her best friend, and it had eventually ended up with Ravi Pillai (who’d, naturally, told Kian Boon). Ravi was the bright-eyed Indian boy in his class he’d noticed during orientation, on their first day of Form One. He’d been assigned to Kian Boon’s group, and was the very first to get picked for “Whacko”. Kian Boon hadn’t recalled his classmates’ names in time, so Ravi had hit him hard enough with the rolled-up newspaper that he’d sustained a paper cut on his forehead. The horrified facilitator had excluded Ravi from the rest of that game, though Kian Boon hadn’t really minded. The only name Ravi really remembered at the end of that day was his. It was, well, best friends at first sight. They hung out at recess almost every day, sometimes joined in a game of soccer and occasionally went to the kopitiam or spider-fighting rings after school with their friends. Not alone, though, he thought. Not yet. He’d get there later. There was a plan, and he needed the spiders for it. Kian Boon exhaled. He picked through the thickest bush he could find, searching for the tell-tale bivouac of a fighting spider. They preferred the densest vegetation, making their home in glued-together leaves. Finding a nest, he gently unzipped it, dissolving the silk into its constituent proteins. The spider hung onto the upper leaf, but with a quick motion of the wrist it was resting in his cupped left palm. He felt its silken trail as it darted about, and he closed his hands to gauge its weight. A good spider, if a little sluggish. It was well-fed. He peeked through a gap in his fingers. Its silver-banded abdomen iridesced a bottle-green; a rare and valuable variety. Kian Boon slipped it into another jar, watching as the critter paced, then slowed, then eventually fell asleep. There was a swift rustling. Kian Boon turned around and there, maybe ten meters away from him, was a tiger about three meters in length. Perhaps he could make it turn away? He pulled its Shape-threads up, but they were greyed-out; it was too strong for him to Shape. Kian Boon hissed in frustration. He backed further into the vegetation, praying he hadn’t been spotted. He hadn’t expected a tiger. Singaporean tigers were rare. The British had set bounties on each head for the century they’d colonized the island, and their subjects had been happy to deliver. The Great War, just under a decade ago, had taken its toll on them too; fierce fighting between the British Malayan Army and the Nanyang Republic’s coalition had driven them across the Straits, setting large tracts of its old growth ablaze. This place, though, had been almost completely untouched. Some of the trees were massive, and looked decades, if not centuries, old. Of course there’d be tigers here. What had his mother told him about tigers? They were fast, strong and intelligent. They could climb trees, and there was no point playing dead. Think, Kian Boon thought to himself. You are never alone, and never unarmed. He’d heard the Combat Shaper Corps’ motto on the thinscreen dozens of times in recruitment advertisements, and his parents had served with them in the war. Anything alive, or once alive, could be useful. Think. Dead leaves on the ground. Live leaves everywhere else. Wood, if he could tear it away. Several blade-like mushrooms sprouting from a lightning-blackened stump. Bugs of all kinds; swarming midges in the air, nests of kerengga ants streaming down the taller trees, large crickets, caterpillars and butterflies. Think. The tiger snuffled. It knew Kian Boon was there, but didn’t want to advance just yet. It would wait for the boy to let his guard down and then strike. Kian Boon could see it pacing, its stripes slipping through gaps in the vegetation. He kept it in front of him. His gaze leapt from tree to tree as he wracked his brain for solutions; his guard was up, and multi-coloured Shape-threads popped in and out of his vision. He blinked sweat out of his eyes, though it was a relatively cool morning, and then he attacked. Kian Boon realigned the threads near the bottom of two of the nearest trees with a slash of his fingers, loosening their cells, and thrust his hand forward, dislodging them. The trees splintered at the breaks, but didn’t fall; he only wanted to scare the tiger, not hurt it. The tiger leapt back, wary, then stepped around the obstruction. Kian Boon locked eyes with it, just a leap away from him. The sun turned it a dappled gold, its stripes shifting as it padded towards him. It licked its muzzle. Trembling, Kian Boon reached into his satchel for his pocketknife, but instead felt one of his empty spider jars. He pulled back, then looked again. The synthorg heat sink was a simple construct. Kian Boon could put one together in an hour from kitchen scraps. Powered by a small reservoir of ethanol, it dispersed heat from the water insulating the jar into the external environment, keeping the inside cool. Kian Boon snapped the empty jar open, snatched up a handful of dead leaves and stuffed them in. He Shaped them into a slurry, then sealed the jar. He tore at its Shape-threads roughly, until the outer layer cracked and the water drained out. The heat sink began to glow, and Kian Boon hurled the jar as hard as he could at the tiger’s face. It smashed, the slurry spilled out, and the red-hot heat sink set it ablaze. It was merely a fistful of fire, but the tiger roared and swiped at its face, singed by the improvised weapon. Kian Boon made a run for it. He sprinted past the temporarily blinded creature, no longer caring to dance through the sunlight. He burst through shrubs, trod on ant trails, snapped every twig in his path as he rushed to the safety of the small capillary road he’d entered by. The spiders he’d caught slept on.   The Transit Authority centibus stop was deserted. The factory beside it had closed for the weekend, and only three buses served this stop. Kian Boon flipped through his bus guide and figured out a route. It would cost him a flat ten cents, out of his weekly state school allowance of seven dollars and fifty cents. He sat on one of the fan-shaped seats, which had been painted a bright shade of orange, and kicked the gravelled ground absent-mindedly. It finally hit him. That was the first tiger he’d seen in the flesh. The captive ones in the Zoo, behind panes of mesh and hardened shrilk, didn’t count. He recalled its eyes, staring into his as he’d reached in panic for his pocket knife, for all the good that would’ve done. The smell of the tiger’s burning fur, acrid like the time he’d accidentally let his hair catch on his elder cousin’s sparkler two New Years ago. He’d panicked and run headlong into her, putting out the fire but also burning a hole in her pretty red qipao. She’d been able to fix the damage, but the fabric had been stretched thin and eventually fell apart in the wash. He looked into his satchel again. Four remaining jars, half of them empty. He slapped the seat in frustration. The trees could have been knocked down, instead of snapped. He’d been too soft to risk hurting a fucking tiger that was about to eat him alive. He could’ve used the insects to his advantage, sending ants and flies to blind the predator while he fled. He could’ve crumbled the humus beneath his enemy’s feet, trapping it in place, but no. He’d overloaded the fuel cell on the heat sink, instead, because he’d had it in his hand and stopped thinking. He sighed. Getting the materials for another jar hadn’t been in the plan, and it would set him back a couple of weeks in savings. The state school allowance was alright, but it was hard to save much of it when the Ministry-mandated lunch service deducted a dollar each weekday. That left him with two-fifty a week, of which one dollar went to transport to and from school. Most kids ran errands for extra money or joined a semi-legal enterprise, like the spider-fighting rings. Some, like the ahbengs and ahlians at school, joined up with the secret societies that the Nanyang administration hadn’t managed to stamp out. He mostly stayed away from those, though he did sell spiders and tech to the few he trusted. Ravi didn’t like them at all, but it was business. Perhaps he’d scavenge something, repair some junk, and maybe that’d pay for a few more dates at the kopitiam. The plan would go on; he only had enough for a first date, now, but Ravi would probably forgive iced Coklat. Kian Boon leaned back, staring at the ceiling of the bus stop. A nest of communal spiders had made their webs between two of the scaffolds. The dense, grey mesh surrounded the lone tube light, a fatal attraction for moths; he presumed this stop was so out of the way that the Transit Authority’s street cleaners didn’t come here. He focused on their Shape-threads and sliced a bit of the web off with a pinch of his fingers. Several spiders emerged, startled. He let go, and they drifted lazily until a gust of wind sent them, and the chunk of web they clung to, into the distance. He knew this species; that bit he’d just cut off would eventually establish its own colony somewhere else, if it found a safe home. The rest of the web would adjust, rebuilding what he’d torn off. He wondered if it would be the same for him, if he pinched a little bit off himself and someone else let it go. Would it grow back? His centibus arrived. The thumping undulations of its rubberised legs slowed as it pulled up to the stop. Kian Boon shrugged his satchel on, hoisted himself off the orange seat and climbed aboard.   Kian Boon reached home at eleven, just as his Ma began preparing lunch. She was washing rice while little Siew Gim, all of sixteen months old, played with their Ba in the living room. Ma scowled at him through the kitchen doorway; he shouted, “sorry, Ma,” and hurried to his room. He looked at himself, covered in scratches and forest grime, and sighed. If Ma had started to cook, she’d have washed up beforehand. The water would be cold for a while before the solar heater managed to warm it up. He exhaled and slumped to the cold, green-grey floor, letting the heat drain out of him. Rolling onto his stomach, he crawled over to his satchel and removed the spiders he’d caught. They slumbered peacefully in their jars, legs tucked beneath their bellies. He looked into their tiny black eyes, open but unaware, and the streaks upon their shiny bodies. He picked himself up and set them down on his homework-cluttered desk. His cheek stung; the cut he’d sustained had reopened, slightly, and blood began to well in the laceration. Kian Boon sighed, brushed his hair back and opened the door. Siew Gim was waiting for him, babbling “Gor-gor” excitedly in Ba’s arms. She’d been born with nubby stumps instead of legs. Ba’s transport had been hit by a fungal mine the Brits had left behind during their final retreat. He’d been evacuated back to Pontianak and put out of action for the rest of the war. Kian Boon recalled sitting by Ba’s bed in the base hospital while the doctors purged the disease from his father’s body. They hadn’t discovered the mutations until they’d had Siew Gim. Kian Boon reached for his little sister, but Ba pulled her back at the last moment, laughing. Siew Gim squealed and shook her head to get her fringe out of her face. She pouted at Ba, and he rubbed her nose with his finger. He gently chided Kian Boon in Hokkien. “Boon, go shower, then can play with Gim. Water warm already.” Kian Boon nodded and headed for the master bedroom, where their shared bathroom was. He stripped his dirt-covered clothes off and shook them to make sure nothing had come back home with him. He spotted and ripped the legs off a biting bug that had attached itself to his collar; his spiders would need the food, but he couldn’t afford to have the thing loose in the house. Thankfully, nothing else had hitched a ride out of the forest. He stepped into the bathroom and hit the showers, relaxing as the sun-warmed water rolled over his body.   The smell of fried fish filled the house as Kian Boon sat on the living room floor. Siew Gim bounced on his lap, giggling as she tried to headbutt him on the chin. He threw her favourite toy, a synthorg turtle plushie named “Turtle”, across the room, where it landed on its back and started to scrabble in the air. Siew Gim took off after it, crawling on her rubberized elbow and wrist pads. Kian Boon watched her; she wiggled her butt and stumps in sync with the movements of her arms. It looked as if she was swimming on the ground, almost effortlessly; they’d put her in a pool once, and she’d taken off like a fish. He wondered, not for the first time, what he’d looked like at that age. Ma and Ba hadn’t seen Kian Boon often. Ma had fallen pregnant just before the war, given birth and been called back to duty once he’d turned three months old, leaving him in a military childcare facility on the outskirts of Pontianak. Ma was a combat-Shaping instructor, and Ba was a maintenance specialist with a mechanized infantry company; they’d been assigned to separate units as a result. Kian Boon had one official picture of himself for each of the four years he’d been a ward of the state. Still, he knew he’d had it good. At least they were alive, and they treated him well. Ba sat at the workbench in the living room, tinkering with one of his latest creations. Ba had service injury compensation in addition to the social dividend which the Nanyang government had implemented several years ago. It was more than enough to live on, but he insisted on working full-time with the Reconstruction Trust. He maintained residential buildings with his team, and built things in his spare time. Ba was currently working on a lifelike in the shape of a pigeon. There were scraps of gore wedged under his fingernails as he carved up a pig brain with a scalpel and threaded the grey matter into the pigeonlike’s soft, shrilk body, weaving neural circuits that would link his creation’s brain to the rest of its body and allow it to move and respond to stimuli once he’d given it a circulatory system, sensory organs and muscles. A pile of animal hair and feathers, bought from the local butcher, remained by the side of the table as raw material for its feathers and beak. Kian Boon picked Siew Gim up and walked over. She loved to see her father working on things, even though she was years away from getting her Shaping, and often crudely mimicked his hand movements as he flicked at threads, waving her hands as if to help him in his work. Upon seeing the greyish pig brain she squealed with delight, babbling “hooi, foo!” when she recognized  the colour. Ba smiled at her, then motioned to Kian Boon. “Boon, put Gim down. Come sit here.” Kian Boon lowered Siew Gim to the floor. She scooted off to the middle of the living room to play with Turtle. He sat down next to Ba, as Ba resumed weaving the pigeonlike’s neural circuits. The fingers of Ba’s right hand traced the grooves he’d etched into its body, pulling the grey matter along with it. Kian Boon watched as he guided them along their paths. He studied the threads, observing how Ba shifted the different, intersecting colours as he bound the circuits to their shrilk housing. Ba hummed a tune while he worked. It was an old marching song based on the Chinese classic, “Man Jiang Hong”. He’d taught Kian Boon that song on one of their weekend outings earlier that year, while they searched the hills of Bukit Timah for rare wildlife. Kian Boon had thought the guy who’d played the Chinese hero Yue Fei on thinscreen a couple of years back had looked good, and Ba had teased him about his “heroic boyfriend” all the way home. Ma had laughed when Kian Boon complained, and told him not to let other boys distract him from his schoolwork. Ba tapped Kian Boon on the hand with a gory finger. “Boon, can see the threads on the grey matter?” “Can see, Ba, can see.” “Good. You try to move them a bit. Fill in the gap.” Ba passed the grey matter to Kian Boon. Kian Boon summoned and seized hold of just one strand, manipulating it with his index finger. He could see the etching, and he let the material stretch and fill it up. Where it branched, he picked a path and continued on it, only returning to the original when it ended. He traced the circuits of the pigeonlike precisely, looking back to Ba every now and then for approval. Ba simply nodded and smiled at his son. Kian Boon, for his part, was happy to be working on one of Ba’s projects. “Ba, this one use for what?” “This one for singing. See the circuits at the neck, there? For vocal chords.” “Go market show?” “Yeah. Let neighbour they all see.” This was to be a showbird, the kind old folks hung up in cages and let sing to each other in the mornings. On the days the family went out for breakfast, Kian Boon would often sit in the market’s sheltered concourse with Siew Gim, listening to their melodious tweeting. Each showbird was controlled by a single brain, Shaped into accepting musical instructions; the quality of the song then depended on how the Shaper constructed its inner workings. He wondered if Ravi would like the showbirds. There were orioles living in their school. Their feathers were a brilliant yellow, and their eyes and wings were ringed in black. He’d pointed one out to Ravi, who’d immediately picked a brilliant feather off to use as a bookmark. Ravi loved their calls, which reminded him of mornings, waking up and walking to school in the cool half-light. The sweet, clear chirps even evoked the smell, he’d said, of damp leaves and dewy air. Kian Boon had asked him then, “I smell like what?” Ravi had thought for a bit before shrugging. “School, I guess. Just like school.” Ba gently tapped Kian Boon’s hand. Kian Boon’s finger had gone off course. Grey matter had now forced itself into a crevice it had no right to be in, awkwardly bulging the shrilk surface of a wing. Kian Boon grimaced. It was a minor accident, but if not corrected, it would affect the pigeonlike’s function. Ba was still smiling, though. “Can fix one, Boon. Don’t worry. Just think.” Kian Boon focused. He pulled the grey matter back, slowly; it grudgingly slid back out of the crevice, leaving a crack behind. He summoned the Shape-threads around the crack and the bulge on the pigeonlike’s wing and obligingly, they rose. A firm prodding applied directly to the bulge shifted the material inwards, and a pinch closed the crack entirely. He gave the thing a once-over. It looked fine now, like it had before, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Ba patted him on the shoulder and took the unfinished pigeonlike from him. The sound of plates caused them to turn their heads. Ma was setting the table for lunch, with fried fish, a pot of rice and some bok choy. Ba and Kian Boon got up, then headed to the toilet to wash their hands.   It was four in the afternoon, and Kian Boon lay on his bed. A completed sheaf of Math worksheets lay on his desk. Kian Boon was more interested in science and Shaping than totting up numbers and letters, and often found himself asking Ravi for help with the tougher questions. The other boy had a knack for logic and rhetoric and dreamt of being an architect. His mother had been one before the war, he’d told Kian Boon, and now worked in the Reconstruction Trust as a restoration engineer, supervising the restoration of historic buildings. Kian Boon had asked Ba if he knew her, but Ba didn’t know much about her except that she had her own team and a reputation for efficiency. As he turned the cordless phone over in his hands, Kian Boon wondered what meeting Ms Pillai would be like. It would have to happen someday, he reasoned. She sometimes picked up when he called Ravi over the weekend, and her voice had a sunny warmth that Ravi had inherited. He turned the dial three times, and then stopped. This was part of the plan, he reminded himself. He’d prepared something for this, folded it up in an old exercise book and kept it away just for this moment. It was a love letter, at first, until he realized he couldn’t do it in person; it then became a script, memorized over the past week so he wouldn’t sound like he was reading off it. He’d thoroughly grilled Ravi on his plans for the weekend. Ravi had said he’d be back from soccer practice and lunch at three, and Kian Boon had done his homework in double-time so he’d be free to call at four. This was all part of the plan. He redialled the eight digits of Ravi’s phone number, forcing himself to drag his finger clockwise. He could already feel the resistance building up. His heart rate rose each time he released the dial, and the muscles in his neck and jaw tensed up. He exhaled slowly as the dial returned to its original position for the eighth time, and somewhere in Singapore, a phone began to ring.   On the fourth ring, Ravi picked up. Kian Boon’s mouth went dry at the lilt of his voice. Everything seemed to snap into focus, and Shape-threads began to encroach on his vision. He forced them away, breathing deeply. He struggled to get the words out. “Hi, Ravi, Kian Boon here. You free?” “Yeah, what’s up?” “Uh, I actually been thinking. You know we been friends for a while now, right? We, uh, got to know each other quite well over the past few months. We become kind of close.” “Yeah, got that. What’s this about?” Think. “Um, actually, I want ask you something. You’re, uh, not like other guys. Like, more mature, more smart, more handsome. Uh. Um. Uh. You want to go out? With me. Like. Date.” Ravi was quiet for a while. Kian Boon could hear him breathing through clenched teeth, the slightly wet sound of air coming up against wet enamel, before he finally said something. “Boon, you’re a good friend, but that’s it. I’m really flattered, but I don’t think I like you like that.” Kian Boon felt his stomach giving way and a pressure in his nose. He lowered the phone, so if he began to cry Ravi wouldn’t hear it. The Shape-threads returned, and this time he couldn’t force them down. He wanted to scream at Ravi, hang up on the insensitive, undeserving boy, but he stopped himself. Think. There were other people out there. Plus, Ravi hadn’t sounded weird, or creeped out. It wasn’t like this was the end. Can fix one. Don’t worry, Boon. Just think. Kian Boon exhaled through his nose and brought the phone back up. “Hey Ravi, you there or not?” “Uh, yeah.” “It’s alright. I, uh, don’t mind. Heh. You still want hang out, though? Like, not in that way. Friend friend only. I got two good spiders today, we can get iced Coklat after school tomorrow.” Ravi laughed and said, “Yeah, sure.” The pressure dissipated. Kian Boon sighed, smiled, and responded. “Alright, set.” He chuckled. “Eh, Ravi, by the way. You seen a tiger before?” END     “Feminine Endlings” is copyright Alison Rumfitt 2018. “Never Alone, Never Unarmed” is copyright Bobby Sun 2018. This recording is a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license which means you can share it with anyone you’d like, but please don’t change or sell it. Our theme is “Aurora Borealis” by Bird Creek, available through the Google Audio Library. You can support GlitterShip by checking out our Patreon at patreon.com/keffy, subscribing to our feed, or by leaving reviews on iTunes. Thanks for listening, and we’ll be back soon with another GlitterShip original.  

Hello listeners! Welcome to the EnterVR podcast! On this episode I speak with Dr. Yue Fei, the founder of Usense, the creators of Impression Pi. Usense wants to give you AR, VR along with handtracking and positional tracking all in the same mobile computer vision enabled device. Here is a snippet of some of the things we talked about: 1:00 What is impression Pi? 2:00 Getting AR and VR from one single mobile platform. 3:10 Getting AR working on Smartphones. 4:10 Impression Pi's hand tracking input solution. 6:20 Why is Usense going for the all in one solution? What are the challenges to this approach? 9:00 What is the field of view for Impression Pi? 11:00 How Impression Pi solved positional tracking on mobile. 14:36 What are the challenges of nailing down the lowest latency? 17:40 How will Impression Pi compete on the content front? 21:52 Will Impression Pi be compatible with WebVR? 23:00 The price and timing of the devices. 25:40 Why is VR and AR important to Dr. Fei? 28:00 Using Impression Pi to give you superpowers. 31:00 Is the HMD ushering in the development of a new era? 32:30 Closing thoughts and how to stay in touch. Thanks again to Dr. Fei for being a true scholar and gentleman of virtual reality and thank you for listening. Keep in touch with the links below: www.usens.com impressionpi.com https://www.facebook.com/usensus https://twitter.com/usensinc https://www.linkedin.com/company/usens-inc- https://plus.google.com/u/1/b/107361919261150677266/107361919261150677266/posts

Like Guan Yu in the previous episode 081, Yue Fei of the Southern Song Dynasty was a heroic and legendary military man in Chinese history. He dedicated his life to resisting the aggression of the Jurchens of the Jin dynasty. The Jurchens had booted the Song dynasty out of northern China in 1127. Yue Fei dedicated his short life to win back those northern lands before falling victim to imperial court politics. And this helped to make him a legend. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Like Guan Yu in the previous episode 081, Yue Fei of the Southern Song Dynasty was a heroic and legendary military man in Chinese history.  He dedicated his life to resisting the aggression of the Jurchens of the Jin dynasty.   The Jurchens had booted the Song dynasty out of northern China in 1127.  Yue Fei dedicated his short life to win back those northern lands before falling victim to imperial court politics. And this helped to make him a legend.