King Wu's Infatuation with Xi Shi

Xi Shi was one of ancient China's four legendary beauties, a village washer-woman who became the king's consort around 470 BCE. The story goes that her homeland Yue was defeated by the Kingdom of Wu. As revenge, Yue sent Xi Shi as a gift to King Fuchai of Wu, knowing her beauty would distract him from governing.

It worked perfectly. The king became so obsessed with Xi Shi that he neglected state affairs, built lavish palaces for her, and ignored his ministers' warnings. Eventually, Wu fell to Yue's armies while the king was busy with his beautiful consort.

The second part of the poem references Dong Shi, an ugly woman who tried to copy Xi Shi's graceful mannerisms but only made herself look ridiculous. Together, these stories warn about the dangers of superficial attraction and trying to be something you're not.

The figure of Xi Shi at the heart of this stick is not a warning about beauty itself, but about what happens when surface and substance pull in opposite directions. King Fuchai did not fall because he loved her; he fell because he stopped tending to everything else while staring at her. And Dong Shi, the imitator, did not become beautiful by copying the smile, she only made her own face strange. Drawn under a health question, the verse is reflecting something quite specific back at you: the gap between how healthy you are trying to appear and how you actually feel when you wake up.

This is the stick of the curated wellness feed, the supplement shelf bought to match someone else's routine, the gym selfie taken before the workout that exhausted you. Somewhere recently your body has been sending a quieter signal, the kind you notice at 3am or in the lift on the way to work, and the louder project of looking-after-yourself has been drowning it out. The grading is harsh because the imitation is costing you the actual thing. Your body is not Xi Shi's body; it is yours, with its own tempo, its own old injuries, its own boring needs.

The verse asks you to drop the performance and listen to what hurts when no one is watching.

Spend a quiet ten minutes this week with no phone and no mirror, and notice where your body actually aches, tightens, or feels heavy. Cancel one wellness practice you adopted because someone online made it look elegant but which leaves you tired. Book the appointment you have been postponing, the dental one, the GP one, the eye test, whichever you keep scrolling past.

Eat one ordinary meal your grandmother would recognise. The honest version of looking after yourself is rarely photogenic, and that is the point.