She hated these shores. The Pingyang shores, with their defiant little rocks poking up out of the waters, pillars against the rising tides. They did not bend to the rule of law.

A good thing that a traitor in agony now adorned them.

Burning had been deemed too good for him, and his bones would be unsuitable because of all the lies he told in life. He would tell no truths in death either, but the Empress wanted to draw out his pain as much as possible. He had been stripped and chained to the rock. It was high tide. Icy tide was up to his waist, and the shackles were clattering so much that Li Mei could see him shiver from her Imperial Yacht. Soon, the low tide would come him. Li Mei hoped that the Pole enjoyed the cold winds.

It was almost enough to take her mind off the burdens of her nation.

The Cossack Leader was not the only one in the cold. Chile, scheming and conniving, stood at odds. Their treachery was discovered, but still they were strong. They were a wave, and unstoppable wave. And yet, they were not yet at war. A cold war, her chancellor had called it. A bitterly cold war indeed.

The American States could not say the same.

They had just been embroiled in a civil war. The jiangshi former chairman, had taken control of the nation, and had become at odds with one statesman or another. Li Mei really couldn't tell the difference between one of those americans or another. All hotheads, all stupid, all easily tricked. Their land was just another theatre in the Game of Gods.

Li Mei shivered, and thought of her palace. She thought of her empire. She thought of her boy, her sweet sweet boy. He would grow up to be strong and smart, one day. It was only a rough patch. He would grow up to be a king.

Li Mei shivered once more, and barked an order.

"Head to shore. I've had my fill of traitors for today. I require a fire for warmth!"

At once, the sailors scurried, and her barge began a ponderous turn. She walked inside. The last she heard of the outside were the fading cries of that Traitor-Pole.

The fire blazed before her, and yet she still felt cold. Pingyang was truly a miserable place.

Huddled in her warm regalities, her entourage also stared at the bonfire. She peered around at them. Some were soldiery men, standing tall. Some had the look of Siberians, and were comfortable. Some men were weak, and shivered. They would have to be looked into. Weakness would not be tolerated in her nation. They must stand tall against the cold, and stand tall with her.

She shivered once more and outstretched her hand to the right. A skull of some lowlife had been placed there. She looked upon the forehead, seeing the question chiseled meticulously into the brow, and then filled in with gold. It would serve.

She cast it into the fire, but she knew the gods were give her nothing again. It had been years since she had any reply, but she kept the tradition. It had a calming effect.

This time, it did not. She shivered once more with a new vigor. She had grown sick and tired of this wretched place and its chill. It was time to return home - her ministers needed her to rule, and China needed her to rule. But most of all, her son. Her son needed her, so that he may grow to be strong and mighty. Like his mother.