The One Who Crouches

The old dynasty fell, and refugees were everywhere. Twelve-year-old Gu Changge huddled with his two younger sisters in a ruined temple, waiting for a pot of porridge made with half a sack of bran. When the government came to seize their land, he crouched down to confront them for the first time. He knew crouching made him steadier than standing.

He had never studied, but crouched in the mud to teach others to read. He had never farmed, but opened up the first furrow. He had never fought in a war, but defended every inch of Green Grass Slope.

He crouched for thirty years. From a ruined temple to the imperial court, from a refugee to an emperor, from having nothing to restoring the realm.

The old dynasty was called “Yongning,” and so was the new one. The old dynasty had lost those two words, but crouching on the ground, he picked them back up.

In a nutshell: He spent thirty years crouching in the mud, until he made the whole realm his own.