Beijing - April 16th, 1940
The morning that was supposed to mark the beginning of their cultural education tour instead began with the gravity of international crisis. Wolfgang had awakened before dawn to the sound of urgent voices in the embassy corridor, followed by the distinctive clicking of telegraph keys transmitting messages back to Theodosia. By the time both officers had dressed and prepared for their departure to the Forbidden City, the news had spread throughout the embassy compound: Germany had occupied Czechoslovakia.
Wolfgang had overheard portions of a heated discussion between Foreign Minister von Hausen and the Hanseatic Ambassador to China, their voices carrying through the embassy's marble halls despite obvious attempts at discretion. The fragmentary phrases he caught, "violation of Munich," "inevitable war," and "immediate mobilization", painted a picture of European stability collapsing with frightening speed.
As expected, von Hausen would not be accompanying them to the Forbidden City, his morning consumed by urgent diplomatic cables and emergency consultations. This left both officers to proceed with their cultural education tour under considerably more sober circumstances than they had anticipated, though neither wished to disappoint their superiors further by requesting postponement.
The staff car that transported them through Beijing's morning streets seemed to move through a city blissfully unaware of the crisis unfolding thousands of miles away. Street vendors prepared their stalls for the day's commerce, while early commuters hurried toward their destinations with the purposeful energy of people focused on immediate concerns rather than distant geopolitical developments.
"Do you think this means war is truly inevitable?" Wolfgang asked quietly as their vehicle approached the familiar walls of the Forbidden City.
Kylian adjusted his uniform collar with nervous precision before responding. "I suspect that depends entirely upon how Britain and France choose to respond. If they continue accommodating German expansion, Hitler may conclude he can act with impunity."
"And if they don't?"
"Then we may find ourselves choosing sides much sooner than anyone anticipated," Kylian replied grimly.
Their driver, maintaining the professional discretion expected of embassy personnel, showed no indication of understanding their conversation, though both officers lowered their voices nonetheless. The implications of European war for the Hanseatic Empire's global interests were too serious for casual discussion, particularly in the presence of foreign nationals.
Upon arrival at the Forbidden City, they found themselves waiting in the same courtyard where their military training duties had begun so disastrously just days earlier. The irony was not lost on either officer—they had returned not as instructors but as students, their professional confidence replaced by uncertainty about their ability to navigate even basic cultural expectations.
"I'm genuinely nervous about today," Wolfgang admitted as they settled onto a stone bench beneath the morning sun. "After what happened with our technical assignment, I'm terrified of creating another diplomatic incident."
Kylian nodded sympathetically, though his own anxiety stemmed from different sources. While Wolfgang worried about professional embarrassment, Kylian found his thoughts persistently drawn to the mysterious woman he had glimpsed in the Imperial Garden. The possibility that he might encounter her again during their cultural tour created a mixture of anticipation and dread that he struggled to conceal from his friend.
Their quiet contemplation was interrupted by the sound of vehicles arriving outside the palace gates, not the refined limousines typically associated with diplomatic visits, but heavier trucks whose engines suggested significant cargo capacity.
"I think some important people must be arriving," Wolfgang observed, turning his head toward the direction of the sound. "Those engines sound too substantial for routine palace business."
"I'm not certain they would transport important dignitaries in trucks," Kylian replied thoughtfully. "Perhaps supplies or equipment for our journey?"
"I suppose you have a point, but I sincerely hope no additional officials are joining our tour. I don't think I could handle the pressure of trying to impress more Chinese dignitaries after our previous performance."
Before Kylian could respond to his friend's concerns, a familiar voice interrupted their speculation.
"Greetings, officers! Good morning!"
Both men turned to see Captain Song Zhongwei approaching with his characteristic confident bearing, though his expression carried more warmth than it had during their failed training sessions.
"Captain Song!" Kylian responded, rising to offer the respectful bow that protocol demanded. Wolfgang quickly followed suit, both men relieved to encounter someone whose reaction to their presence was at least neutral rather than disapproving.
"Good morning, Captain Song," Wolfgang said as they completed their formal greetings. "What brings you here today? Are you perhaps joining our cultural education tour?"
"Indeed I am, Captain von Witzland," Song replied with what might have been the hint of a smile. "I will be accompanying your party to the imperial estate."
Wolfgang's expression brightened considerably at this news. Despite the awkwardness of their previous interactions, he had developed genuine respect for Song's military professionalism and cultural sophistication.
"That's excellent news! We heard the sound of trucks arriving outside, are those the vehicles that will transport us to the estate?"
"No, no, Captain," Song replied with evident amusement at the misconception. "You will travel in appropriate staff cars, as befits diplomatic guests. The trucks you heard are for retainers and servants who will accompany the imperial party."
This explanation prompted Kylian's eyebrows to rise with interest. "Retainers? Are we to understand that members of the imperial family will be joining this cultural tour?"
"Indeed, Captain von Reichsgraf," Song confirmed. "Some members of the imperial family will be traveling to the estate, and I always accompany them on such important journeys as part of my official duties."
Wolfgang's expression reflected both fascination and renewed nervousness. "I had no idea you held such an esteemed position within the palace hierarchy, Captain Song. That must be quite an honor."
"I would not characterize it as particularly esteemed," Song replied with characteristic modesty. "Such responsibilities come with their own significant challenges and pressures."
While Wolfgang continued his conversation with Song, Kylian found his attention completely captured by the mention of imperial family members joining their tour. His mind immediately conjured the image of the elegant young woman he had observed practicing calligraphy in the Imperial Garden, and he felt his pulse quicken at the possibility that she might be among the traveling party.
"Well, we certainly understand about professional pressures," Wolfgang was saying, "but it must still be quite fascinating to serve so close to the imperial family during their travels. If I may ask, Captain Song—given your obvious education and your role accompanying imperial family members—are you serving as some sort of personal guard?"
Song straightened slightly, his bearing reflecting pride in his position despite his earlier modesty. "Indeed, Captain von Witzland. I serve as personal guard to Her Royal Highness Princess Changning, the Third Princess of the Jin Dynasty."
The words struck Kylian like a physical blow. "The Third Princess?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice level despite the racing of his heart.
"Yes, Captain von Reichsgraf," Song replied, noting Kylian's obvious interest. "Her Royal Highness should be arriving shortly to begin our journey."
Wolfgang, oblivious to his friend's internal turmoil, moved closer to Song with obvious curiosity about the Chinese officer's background. "Captain Song, if you serve as a personal guard to imperial royalty, you must possess noble rank yourself? Even your family name suggests distinguished lineage."
"You demonstrate excellent historical knowledge, Captain von Witzland," Song replied with genuine appreciation. "I am indeed descended from noble family—distant relations to the Song Dynasty, though the connection is not direct."
Wolfgang's eyes lit up with the enthusiasm of someone whose academic interests had been validated. "You mean the historical Song Dynasty? The emperors who ruled China centuries ago?"
Song chuckled at Wolfgang's obvious excitement. "You could say that, though the relationship is more complex than direct imperial descent. Many noble families claim various connections to previous dynasties."
Their genealogical discussion was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps and voices, creating the distinctive acoustic signature of a formal procession moving through the palace courtyards. All three officers turned toward the sound, which was coming from the direction of the imperial residential quarters.
What emerged from the covered walkways was indeed a procession, though more modest than the elaborate ceremonies they had witnessed in the throne room. At the center of the group walked a young woman whose presence immediately commanded attention despite the relative simplicity of her dress and escort.
Princess Changning wore robes of deep blue silk that seemed to capture and reflect the morning sunlight, the fabric moving with liquid grace as she walked. She carried a paper parasol of matching blue, its elegant proportions complementing rather than concealing her natural beauty. Her dark hair was arranged in the same elaborate style Kylian remembered from their brief encounter in the garden, held in place by the distinctive silver hairpin shaped like a flowering branch.
Kylian watched her approach and found himself helpless against the observation: morning sunlight caught her porcelain skin and held it, while every gesture—the tilt of her head, the precision of her steps—spoke to a lifetime spent learning how royalty moves through the world.
Yet what struck him most profoundly was not merely her physical beauty, remarkable though it was, but the sense of dignity and purposefulness that seemed to emanate from her very presence. She moved through the courtyard as though existing in her own carefully maintained sphere of authority and grace, acknowledging her surroundings without appearing to be diminished by them.
There was something almost divine about her bearing, the way she seemed to glide rather than walk, the way her attention remained focused straight ahead while still conveying awareness of everything around her. In the brief span of time it took for her to cross the courtyard, Kylian found himself convinced that this was indeed someone who deserved her royal rank through force of character as much as accident of birth.
"Officers, we must bow to Her Royal Highness Princess Changning," Song Zhongwei announced quietly, his tone carrying the respectful formality appropriate to the moment.
The instruction snapped Kylian out of his fascinated observation, and he quickly joined Wolfgang and Song in offering the deep bow that protocol required. As he bent forward, however, he could not resist lifting his eyes slightly to observe the princess as she passed.
To his surprise and profound satisfaction, Princess Changning's gaze met his own for the briefest moment—a fleeting exchange that lasted perhaps two seconds but seemed to carry weight far beyond its duration. Her expression remained composed and regal, yet there was something in her dark eyes that suggested recognition, or perhaps simple acknowledgment of his attention.
She spoke no words during her passage through the courtyard, yet her presence filled the space with an almost tangible sense of authority and grace. Every gesture, every movement of her head, every step seemed calculated to project dignity while maintaining the approachable humanity that prevented her regality from becoming mere coldness.
As the princess and her small entourage continued toward the palace gates, Song Zhongwei straightened and addressed both officers with obvious pride in his charge.
"Gentlemen, that is Her Royal Highness the Third Princess, my patron and the person I have sworn to protect with my life. She is remarkable in every regard."
Wolfgang, clearly impressed by what he had witnessed, nodded approvingly. "She certainly could not be mistaken for anyone other than royalty. Her bearing and presence are genuinely extraordinary."
As they began walking toward the palace gates to follow the princess's party, Kylian struggled to process the implications of what he had just learned. The mysterious woman who had captured his imagination during their brief encounter in the Imperial Garden was indeed Princess Changning, the Third Princess of the Jin Dynasty—precisely the kind of person whose attention would be both the most wonderful and most dangerous thing that could happen to a foreign military officer.
Seeking to distract himself from these troubling thoughts, Kylian addressed Song Zhongwei with what he hoped sounded like casual professional curiosity.
"Captain Song, might I ask how long you have served in the Imperial Army?"
"Eight years, Captain," Song replied.
"That's impressive. You were a soldier in your teens," Kylian said with a genuine smile.
"Not at all, Captain. It was my lineage that made it mandatory for me to join the imperial guards early," Song explained as they exited the gate and approached the convoy of vehicles lined up in careful formation—luxurious state cars in front, followed by trucks and jeeps for servants, guards, and supplies.
Kylian noticed the princess approaching her designated car at the head of the convoy. He watched as she opened the door herself with practiced grace and settled into the vehicle, her movements maintaining the same dignified composure she had displayed throughout the courtyard.
As everyone prepared to depart, Song led the two captains toward their assigned vehicle—a black sedan from the late twenties. Despite its age, the car appeared impeccably maintained, its spotless condition speaking to careful stewardship.
Wolfgang claimed the front passenger seat while Kylian opened the rear door. Before entering, he turned to find Song behind him.
"Looks like we will be sitting together, Captain von Reichsgraf," Song observed.
"Yes, of course," Kylian replied, sliding into the seat. Song followed, and moments later the engines rumbled to life as the convoy began its journey.
The Journey South;
They spoke no words inside the car until they were crossing the outskirts of Beijing. All three officers were absorbed in the passing scenery—Wolfgang busy with his camera capturing images of the changing landscape, while Kylian and Song gazed through their respective windows at the countryside unfolding before them.
The transition from urban sprawl to rural farmland was gradual but striking. Ancient villages appeared among the rice paddies, their traditional architecture speaking to centuries of continuous habitation. Farmers worked their fields with the same methods their ancestors had employed for generations, creating scenes that could have been painted a thousand years earlier.
As the convoy moved deeper into the countryside, Kylian turned toward Captain Song, who continued gazing contemplatively at the landscape.
"You know, Captain Song, what you told me earlier about your family lineage making you join the army early, I understand that completely. It took me a while to realize it, but all three of us are in the same situation."
Song shifted his attention from the window to meet Kylian's gaze. "Yes, I have heard of your family, Captain von Reichsgraf. Their name is quite legendary in Hanseatic history. It is something of an honor sitting next to one of them."
Kylian was genuinely taken aback by this statement. "You flatter me, Captain Song. Your lineage is even more prestigious than mine."
"We are just a cadet branch," Song replied with characteristic modesty, placing his hand against the car window. "Regardless, I truly admire your nation. You have a history very much like ours, cycles of unity and fragmentation, dynasties rising and falling. Yet despite all that, you were able to establish yourselves as a true global power. That is something we in China aspire to achieve, which is why, although you are a much younger nation, we have much to learn from you."
The statement was blunt and honest, and Kylian immediately registered Song's tone. Despite China's technological and industrial disadvantages, the Chinese remained fiercely proud of their heritage and ancient civilization.
"The world moves in cycles," Kylian replied thoughtfully. "Nations rise and nations fall. It just happens that in this particular cycle, it is our turn to rise. But that will change eventually, history guarantees it."
Song lowered his arm from the window, his expression thoughtful. "That may be the case, but your family has survived all the dynastic changes in Hanseatic history. That is quite a legacy."
Kylian could tell Song was speaking from genuine admiration rather than mere diplomatic courtesy. "That is true, but how did you know that? You must know quite a lot about Hansa, Captain Song."
"I am not exaggerating when I say the legacy of your family is legendary, even here in China," Song explained. "Students studying Hanseatic history encounter your family name repeatedly. I quite enjoy studying Hanseatic history myself, your empire's development fascinates me from a comparative perspective."
"I am honored that you think so highly of us, but we are not so different, Captain Song. After all, we both serve the crown."
"That is true," Song acknowledged with a slight smile, "and I think it is a worthy duty to have. After all, you serve the Son of Heaven and his family, there are worse ways to spend one's life."
"Try being an heir to a Dukedom," Wolfgang interjected from the front seat, turning his head back toward them. "I promise you, nothing is worse than that."
Song looked puzzled. "What is so terrible about it?"
"Administration," Wolfgang replied with evident passion. "And how no matter how kind or just you try to be, people will always find ways to discredit you. At least if you were royal, people would acknowledge what the monarch accomplishes. But it doesn't work that way where I grew up. People see only the mansions and estates, they don't see the responsibilities, the endless disputes to settle, the accounts to manage, the dependents to care for. It doesn't sit right with me."
The raw sincerity in Wolfgang's voice made clear he meant every word. After his small passionate outburst, he turned back to face forward, folding his arms across his chest as his expression grew melancholy.
Kylian found his friend's reaction both amusing and touching. He understood the pressures Wolfgang faced as heir to one of the empire's wealthiest duchies—the constant scrutiny, the impossible expectations, the burden of inherited privilege that came with equally inherited obligations.
Seeing Wolfgang lost in brooding thoughts, Kylian decided to give his friend space and turned his attention to the window. The countryside rolled past in an endless panorama of cultivated fields and distant mountains. The journey to Chang'an would be long, but at least he would have the opportunity to see more of China, and perhaps, though he hardly dared acknowledge the thought, more opportunities to observe Princess Changning from whatever respectful distance protocol demanded.
Song Zhongwei too seemed content with silence for the moment, allowing each man his own contemplations as the convoy carried them steadily southward toward the ancient capital and whatever cultural education awaited them there.