Cheloltuft Dratsligli Facebook ad: “The Chinese monarch praised bright eyes and faces…”

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The Chinese monarch praised bright eyes and faces fair; for years he sought a spellbind beauty without success. A maiden of the Yangs had grown to womanhood, reared in the inner room, as yet unknown to the world. With beauty gifted by Heaven, she could not be ignored, and one day she was chosen to attend upon the Emperor. Turning her head, she gave a smile that cast a hundred charms, and all the painted beauties in the six palaces faded into nothingness. In cold spring days she was granted a bath in Huaqing Pool, where warm liquid washed her silky skin clean. Raised up by maidservants, she looked soft and frail; that was when she first enjoyed the imperial favor. Cloud-like hair, flower-like face, and golden hairpins swaying, she spent spring nights with him behind warm lotus curtains. The spring night was far too short, the sun rose high, and henceforth the King held no morning court. Attending feasts and entertaining him without rest, joining his spring outings and keeping him company night after night. Though three thousand beauties dwelt in the palace, three thousand loves were centered on her alone. Adorned in the golden chamber, she served him at night; drunk with spring love after banquets in the jade tower. Her sisters and brothers were all given fiefs and lands, bringing envy and pride to her family gate. Thus parents across the land were moved to desire daughters rather than sons. High above in Lishan Palace, reaching into blue clouds, heavenly music floated in the wind everywhere. Slow songs and gentle dances merged with string and reed instruments, and all day long the monarch never tired of watching. Then came the drums of Yuyang shaking the earth, breaking the melody of the Rainbow and Feather Garments. Smoke and dust rose over the nine-fold gates; thousands of carriages and horsemen moved southwest. The royal banners swayed and halted, just over a hundred miles west of the capital gate. The six armies refused to march, there was no way out; before the horses, the beauty with moth eyebrows perished. Her floral jewelry fell to the ground with no one to collect it, along with her jade hairpins and golden ornaments. The Emperor covered his face, unable to save her; looking back, his tears and blood flowed together. Yellow dust scattered in the desolate wind; along winding plank paths they climbed Jiange Pass. Few travelers walked beneath Mount Emei; flags lost their luster, and the sunlight faded thin. Green were the Shu rivers, blue the Shu mountains; morning and night, the Sovereign's heart yearned with longing. The moon seen from the temporary palace brought sorrowful tints; night rain and tinkling bells sounded like heartbreak. The world turned round, the royal chariot returned; arriving at the spot, he wavered, unable to leave. Beneath the soil of Mawei Slope, no jade-like face remained—only the desolate place of death. Sovereign and ministers looked at each other, clothes soaked in tears; facing east toward the capital gate, they let their horses wander home. Returning to find the gardens and ponds as of old, the lotus of Taiye Pool and the willows of Weiyang Palace. The lotus resembled her face, the willow her eyebrows; looking at them, how could he not shed tears? On spring days when peach and plum blossoms bloomed, in autumn rain when paulownia leaves fell. The West and South Palaces were overgrown with autumn grass; red leaves covered the steps, unswept. White hair appeared fresh on court musicians' heads; eunuchs and maidens in the palace aged in sorrow. Fireflies flew through the quiet hall while he brooded alone; the oil burned low in the solitary lamp, yet sleep would not come. Slow beat the drums and bells on the long, long night; bright shone the Milky Way as dawn drew near. Cold frost lay thick on the mandarin-duck tiles; under the chilly emerald quilt, with whom could he share warmth? Separated by life and death for long years, her soul had never entered his dreams. A Taoist priest from Linqiong, visiting the capital, could summon spirits through his devotion. Moved by the King's endless grief and longing, the magician earnestly searched for the immortal fairy. Riding the air and lightning, he sped through the void, searching heaven and earth thoroughly. High to the blue skies, low to the yellow underworld, two vast realms he searched, finding nothing in both. Suddenly he heard of a fairy mountain on the sea, floating amidst faint and misty clouds. Delicate towers arose among five-colored clouds, where many graceful fairies dwelt. Among them was one named Taizhen, with snow-white skin and flower face, resembling her. Knocking on the jade door of the West Wing of the Golden Palace, he asked Xiaoyu to report to Shuangcheng. Hearing of the envoy from the Han Emperor, she awoke startled from her dreams behind the patterned curtains. Gathering her robes and pushing aside her pillow, she paced back and forth; pearl curtains and silver screens opened one by one. With her cloud-like hair half-tilted fresh from sleep, and her floral crown askew, she came down to the hall. The wind blew her immortal sleeves, floating and raising, as if she were dancing the Rainbow and Feather Garments. Her jade face was lonely, tear-stained like a spray of pear blossoms in spring rain. With deep feeling and steady gaze, she thanked the King: "Since our parting, sound and form have both grown dim. Love ended in Zhaoyang Palace; long days pass in Penglai Palace. Turning to look down at the mortal world, I see no Chang'an, only dust and mist. Only through these old tokens can I express my deep love; I send this jewelry box and golden hairpin. A single prong of the pin and a leaf of the box I keep; breaking the gold and dividing the enamel. If only our hearts remain as firm as gold and enamel, in heaven or earth we shall meet again." At parting, she earnestly reiterated her message, containing a vow known only to their two hearts: On the seventh day of the seventh month in the Palace of Longevity, whispering secretly at midnight when no one was near: "In heaven we wish to be two birds flying wing to wing; on earth we wish to be two trees with branches entwined together." The endless heavens and the lasting earth will one day pass away, but this regret will stretch on, forever without end. She is neither too stout nor too slender, neither too tall nor too short. Her shoulders seem sculpted, her waist as if bound by white silk. Her long, elegant neck reveals a flawless, porcelain skin. She wears no fragrant oils, nor any trace of powder. Her cloud-like hair is piled high, and her long eyebrows curve delicately. Her crimson lips stand out vividly, her pearly teeth gleaming within. With a bright, expressive gaze, a faint dimple plays upon her cheek. Her exquisite beauty is boundless, her demeanor serene and her posture at ease. Gentle in mood and graceful in form, she charms far sweeter than any words can tell. Elle n’est ni trop ronde ni trop svelte, sa taille est d'une proportion parfaite. Ses épaules semblent sculptées et sa taille s'affine comme un ruban de soie blanche. Son long cou gracieux révèle une peau d'une blancheur éclatante. Elle n'ajoute aucun onguent parfumé, ni aucun fard sur son visage. Ses cheveux en chignon s'élèvent comme des nuages, ses sourcils s'étirent en arcs délicats. Ses lèvres de corail s'entrouvrent avec éclat sur des dents d'une blancheur nacrée. Ses yeux brillants sont pleins de regards captivants, et de douces fossettes se dessinent sur ses joues. Sa beauté est d'une élégance rare, son maintien est serein et son attitude est paisible. Sa tendre affection et ses manières gracieuses ont plus de charme que les mots ne sauraient en dire. It is said that the greatest space has no corners, and the ocean of knowledge has no bounds. Human life is like a white steed passing through a crevice, or the blossoming and withering of plants. Yet though our bodies are small, our aspirations can reach the clouds; though our years are brief, our writings can convey the Eternal Way. Learning is the foundation of self-cultivation and the cornerstone of virtue. Among the ancient sages, none achieved greatness without diligent study. Confucius was a supreme sage, yet he questioned everything and wore out the leather straps of his scrolls three times. Yan Hui was a man of great virtue, content with a single bowl of rice and a single scoop of water, never letting hardship alter his joy in learning. Thus, the blade's edge is sharpened by grinding, and the plum blossom's fragrance emerges from the bitter cold. Without accumulating single steps, one cannot reach a thousand miles; without gathering small streams, one cannot form rivers and seas. In today's world, all things change rapidly and information floods our view. Some impetuous people seek quick success and instant gain, dabbing lightly without depth, drifting like duckweed on water or fallen leaves in the wind. Little do they know that acquiring knowledge is like casting a tool: it cannot become steel without a hundred refined beatings; insight is like digging a well: it cannot reach spring water without deep excavation. Those with unfocused minds cannot hear acutely or see clearly; those with frail resolve retreat at the first setback and abandon their journey halfway. Therefore, we must remain as open-minded as a valley, respect teachers, honor the Way, and pursue knowledge with rigor. Learn broadly, question thoroughly, reflect carefully, discern clearly, and practice earnestly. Do not grow lazy as time passes, nor shrink in fear because the journey is long. Nurture an inspiring and righteous spirit, and explore the principles of heaven and earth. In doing so, we shall not waste our youth, but rather build achievements, establish virtue, and leave a name to posterity.

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