I'm CJ Weiss, and I'm not here to give you a history lesson. Instead, I'll spin a tale, exploring humanity's saga through pairs of individuals connected by the ends and beginnings of their lives. Each season, I'll start the first episode with a person born around the turn of the first century, covering their story and the influences that shaped them from the year of their birth to the year of their death. Each subsequent episode picks up right where the last one ended, with the birth of our next feature figure. Through the structure, we'll travel the globe and progress through time until near-present day to discover how we are all linked by history. It's 252 AD. China is still in the middle of the Three Kingdoms era. The deadliest civil war in the history of all civil wars. Rome is still in the middle of the crisis of the third century, a 50-year period where at least 26 people proclaim themselves emperor. Cushan has split into East and West Cushan, and the West is falling rapidly because Parthia is dead, gone, no more. From their ashes has risen the Sasanian Empire, one that will last 400 years. In 252, they rule Persia, most of Arabia, and will eventually swallow up the Cushan Empire whole. But hey, the Mayans are doing pretty well over in Central America. They're entering their classical period, kind of similar to Greece's evolution 600 years prior. City states will form their own alliances, trade networks, and military. Too bad they didn't leave me copious notes to showcase one of its inhabitants with an episode. I would love to cover someone in the Americas, and I'll get there as soon as I can, but I can only work with what I've got. And I'm getting off topic. The point is, we are on a time of change. War, politics, and border disputes dominate the headlines, but with so much loss of life, one has to wonder, where does that leave the soul? Religion has played a part in human civilizations for their entire existence, and it's time we covered one of its leaders, a founder no less. With Europe and Asia and chaos and unexpected victors making history, it seems appropriate that we upend expectations too. While the vast, vast majority of religions are founded by men, a few are started by women. Way Watun is one such woman, or if you prefer her divine names, Madam Way of the Southern Sacred Mountain, and primordial sovereign of purple voidness. Those are some lofty titles. We'll call her by her first name, Watun, since that's plenty unique as is. After all, most Chinese women at this time are usually referred to by simply their surname, like Lady Wei. That's if they're mentioned at all, which is pretty much unheard of unless they married a king. Arguably the fact that we know her name at all is more impressive than any title one could bestow on her. Before we get started, I'll make a quick clarification on Taoism. You may have heard of both Taoism and Taoism, one with a T, one with a D, and wonder what the difference is. The answer is, they're the same, simply recorded with different transcription systems, and that's the last time I'll mention Taoism. In 252 AD, baby Watun is born in China near modern day Jinning. It's 335 miles straight south from Beijing, 460 miles northwest of Shanghai, and 175 miles away from the coast. For those who listened to my previous super-sized episode on Sun Quan, Watun is born smack dab in the middle of the Kingdom of Wei. Despite her surname, she's not related to the rulers there, but her birthplace kind of makes her an enemy if you were rooting for Sun Quan. By now though, I think we're safe from that. When old age and madness took him, his supporters were few and far between. The Kingdom of Wei has just wrapped up a decades-long internal struggle between the Tao clan, the nominal rulers of Wei, and the Sima clan, the slowly growing power behind the throne. Where members of the two clans once gave equal input, in 252, Sima clearly directed the Kingdom. The Sima family firmly believed in traditional Confucian values, so it's fortunate for Watun that she lived 250 miles east of Wei's capital. As alluded to in the opener though, China is in a period of change, it's turmoil having shaped future generations. Taoism has gained a significant presence in society, and most political leaders seek to incorporate its philosophies in one of two different ways. One side seeks to merge Confucian and Taoist philosophies, diminishing the spiritual elements in favor of Taoism's more practical, go with the flow, belief set. The other side delves deep into spiritualism, moving Taoism from less of a philosophy to more of a religion. The tenets of Mahayana Buddhism, first introduced in episode 3 with Kanishka the Great, is now translated to Chinese and circulated to interested parties. Some Taoist leaders even merge their religion with Buddhism. One of these is the Tianxi sect, relevant because Watun's father is a disciple of the religion. Tianxi is a sect of Taoism founded 100 years before Watun's birth. This movement, alongside Taoism as a whole, had spread rapidly in the late second century, largely in response to the mismanagement caused by Confucian leaders in the imperial court. Rebellion soon started breaking out. The biggest one, called the Yellow Turban Rebellion in 184 AD, ultimately failed. Tianxi, though, succeeded in a smaller scale revolt, leading to the formation of a short lived theocratic state in western China in 194. Tianxi practitioners were expected to confess sins and eat as little as possible. The latter probably because starvation proliferated throughout much of China during its century long civil war between 189 and 280 AD. Meditation, a great activity to Quel one's hunger, also gained popularity. The sect also eschewed the traditional Taoist belief that a man could essentially absorb a woman's chi, or energy source, through sex. Further, Taoist guidelines recommended the man not ejaculate during sex. This comes from an ancient Han Empire book that translates to secrets from the Jade Chamber. In it, the Yellow Emperor, this mythical Chinese sovereign, asks his goddess to elaborate on the benefits of said practice. She tells him, quote, when a man makes love once without ejaculating, he strengthens his body. Twice, and his sight and hearing become more acute. Three times, and all his diseases will be cured. Four times, his soul will be at peace, end quote. The science of sexual physiology was, let's say, in its infancy in these days, and to be clear, this was not a widely held belief in China. By the third century, Taoism had progressed to encouraging men to actually pleasuring women during sex. This was mostly to steal their chi, but hey, it's a step up. Tianxi, then, we can consider mega-progressive in the bedroom as they allowed both genders equal preservation of their chi. These more egalitarian views extended to elsewhere in Tianxi tenets. This, combined with semi-celebacy and meditation, fostered a strong sense of independence in its adherence, especially women. After all, when they're presented with a philosophy where they're no longer second-class citizens, it's no wonder many latch on when their economic situation allows them to largely ignore confusion values. This last bit is a rather key point. Whatever idealized philosophies people held, men still ran the country and used women to submit their political position. After the ruler of the Tianxi theocratic state surrendered to the father of the Kingdom of Wei in 215, he cemented his relationship by marrying his daughter to one of the Wei ruler's sons. Due to political reality and human ambition, one could argue the truest believers of Tianxi are women. We'll see this with Wautuan once she reaches adulthood, but the reason she even knows this religion so well is precisely because of how the theocratic state ruler surrendered. Prior to his surrender, this theocratic ruler knew his position was hopeless. Before calling it quits though, he retreated to a defensive fortress to force more amicable terms. He also impressed his conqueror by leaving behind all his riches in his capital, saying they belonged to the country, not him. It's doubtful that conqueror dispersed many of these riches upon claiming them, but he does take this as a sign that the Tianxi ruler isn't greedy and might not be a bad guy to bring into his court. The Tianxi ruler and his sons are awarded lands in Wei, great for them, but more importantly, Tianxi Taoism gains official state recognition. This leads to its proliferation through northern China. It's still way less popular than Confucianism, but it does reach certain government officials, which is how Wautuan's father, a man named Wei Shu, converts to the sect. And no, it's not lost on me that his name is two-thirds of the three kingdoms from last episode. Coincidences. Gotta love them. History is a ripple of cause and effect. A religious movement that started a century ago at the other end of the country will drive our protagonists' beliefs today, not to mention the whole giant civil war thing and Taoism itself being hundreds of years old. Wautuan is likely the first, possibly only child in her family. I say this one because we don't know of any siblings. Two, because she marries late, signifying she's more valuable than an ordinary daughter, or bears some other drawback, but that's unlikely. Three, because she is highly educated by adulthood, an investment that is more likely for a son if one had existed. Wei Shu is dedicated to his work and climbs the imperial ranks through good stewardship. Even though he's a Tianxi disciple, this means he integrates Confucian guidelines in his workflow. As I've said, it's still the dominant philosophy and its adherents, at least publicly, would be necessary for the promotions he'd later receive. This Confucian support doesn't make it down to his daughter, suggesting he insulated her from public life. This may have been his call, or it may have been catering to his daughter's naturally studious inclinations. In terms of support, Wei Shu certainly treats his daughter like a son, giving her access to a scholarly education. As it's unheard of for girls to study alongside boys in public schooling, this necessitated hiring a private tutor. This cost money reinforcing that Wautuan came from a wealthy noble family. That surprising, given that her dad will eventually hold a post in the imperial court. Despite Confucian China's emphasis on meritocracy, advancement in civil service was capped without proper connections, or war as during the Three Kingdoms era. Little Wautuan soaks up knowledge like a sponge, but given she's learning from a private tutor, and her dad personally believes in Taoism more than Confucianism, this means her education significantly deviates from a well-educated noble man. She still reads basic classical Chinese literature, but with Buddhist texts available in Chinese, and Taoist writings blending with the Confucian, she spends much of her youth studying the spiritual and theoretical. In that Wautuan turns 8 into 60, the Tao emperor makes a last ditch effort to reclaim state power from the SEMA clan. Soldiers clash, but the tides of fate cannot be overcome. This results in the death of said emperor, putting the nail in the coffin of the Tao clan as would-be rulers of China. Over the next six years, SEMA will place the pieces necessary to force a mostly peaceful transfer of power in 266. When that happens, Wautuan's father receives a promotion as Minister of Education in the newly formed Jin Empire, ruled by SEMA. Wautuan is now 14 in her likely relocation to the capital in Luoyang, means even greater access to Buddhist texts. I wish I could detail her day-to-day life as a young teen from a first or even second-hand account, but most of the meager records about her are tied up in her spiritual teachings and eventual divinity within the Shang-Ching sect of Taoism that she found. What I can do is make an educated guess given the time period and her associations. Given this historical fiction, Wautuan rises close to Don to begin her day in earnest. Living in a Taoist family, she'd want to balance her diet to maintain her chi, so she may start the day with some hot creamy porridge. Grains used to make porridge are a neutral source of energy and would keep her focus on the work at hand. After Wautuan's moderate breakfast, her tutor shows up to begin her lessons. Rote memorization comprises a big component of her learning. This can take the form of after-hours homework. While the tutor's there though, this entails hand-copping whatever text she's reviewing today. This of course meant she could read and write, something only 10% of the male population could do in ancient China. Females fell well below this number as the primary purpose of literacy was to take exams for government posts, a job outside of a woman's purview. Wautuan then started striving for rarefied air early on. The private tutor typically directed her to absorb today's subject matter without instruction at first, and then have her explain it. Early after this, would the tutor make corrections, explaining where Wautuan went wrong. This encourages critical thinking, but only after sufficiently memorizing everything. By noon, all this learning has got her body worked up. Her chi is overheating, so to balance it, she consumes something cool, not temperature-wise, that hardly matters in ancient China's four natures of food. No, she needs food with a crisp lightness. Cucumbers, for example. The crop had made its way to China's fields only decades before Wautuan's birth, so not many are eating it, but the daughter of a nobleman in China's capital seems like a good bet. Cucumber isn't that filling, so if she's particularly hungry today, she'll bite into a slightly sweet, slightly tart pear. The fruit originated in China around 2000 BC, so its consumption has a long revered use. Side note, Asia Minor also independently cultivated this fruit around the same time. Along with her meal, she takes her daily dose of supplements. Namely, fooling mushroom pills and sesame powder, both said to extend longevity and regulate once chi. Yes, big supplement has been around for quite a while. Enough about food. Wautuan needs to get to her afternoon meditation. She practices breathing and visualizing her inner spirits and bodily organs to harmonize them. After devoting 30 minutes to this, she returns to her studies. The tutor's work may or may not have been done for the day, depending on their morning session, but the studious Wautuan happily reads and memorizes when left alone. We should assume her father, Wei Shu, made a point to hire a Tianxi Taoist scholar to instruct his daughter. If not though, this will be the time of day she starts on her religious learnings. At the forefront of these are the hundred schools of thought. These philosophies flourished between the fifth and third centuries BC and included Taoism's original mantra of living harmoniously within oneself. It should come as no surprise then that she'll also read everything Laot C, Taoism's founder, wrote down. When the 14-year-old girl's brain is full of all it can take, she goes out to play. This would have been with other girls, most of whom are on the cusp of marriage, so she largely finds it difficult to connect with them. Playing for the average teen noble girl in the Jin Empire ranges from domestic competitions like embroidery-offs to who can sing most sweetly. Damn! Fortunately, the vast capital has provided Wautuan one to two other girls who can indulge her intellectual side. Hard games like Go are a male-dominated activity, so that's out of the picture. The girls instead try to trick each other with riddles or other forms of wordplay. It's a fun enough diversion, though not one that lasts. She'll tire of these peers too and instead gravitate to finding secluded hiding spots to tuck herself away, providing her the freedom to ponder the world. When relatives came to visit, they often remarked how they could never find Wautuan. She eventually has to eat again, though, and comes home for dinner. A reasonable bet is the food will include ginger, garlic, or onions, something believed to promote circulation and stomach digestion. Perhaps she eats her first bit of meat for the day, but her talus beliefs would veer her proteins towards tofu or nuts. When she tells Wei Shu of her studies, it elicits a certain pride in the man. Both because his daughters beliefs are coming to align with his and because he's doing his part to spread the Tianchi discipline. As the years pass in these daily routines, Wautuan finds herself more and more isolated to her delight. It's quite rare for a girl not to marry by 17 or 18, and at that point in her life, Wei Shu has made no moves to a range of betrothal. Social isolation leaves more time for meditation, a skill she's grown adept at, and she may first begin pondering theology here. Her background has equipped her with a necessary foundation and her situation with the necessary time. Still, the prospect of marriage presents an ever-luming threat. If she could have committed herself to the talus equivalent of a nunnery, she absolutely would have. Those won't exist for a few hundred more years, and her destiny is out of her control. That is owned by her father. He's approached for many marriages but is content to wait for the right match. Typically, this means an arrangement that will increase his own political station or rank. For Wautuan's father, that is far too mundane. When he does find a partner for his daughter, it is not to a man from a great house or a minor hero from the Three Kingdoms era. No, it's to a historian and fellow tea on she adherent. For decades, Wei Shu's goal has been to grow his religion, and there is no better path to this than procreation. With a daughter and son-in-law both firmly believing in its tenants, it's quite likely the grandkids will also follow tea on she. It's all part of the big picture. One might think this is a great match for Wautuan, that she'd be happy. She'll be joined by someone she can see eye to eye with. Instead, she pleads with her father to reconsider. She has so much more of the world to discover and the duties of marriage, i.e. child rearing and caretaking, will occupy the entirety of her time. Wei Shu is firm in his decision though. At age 24, Wautuan finally marries. This may seem incredibly reasonable by today's standards, but in Han China, she may as well have been entering middle age. Most females married around 15 years old, shortly after they could start burying children. One reason is obvious, for the practical aspect of raising a family while she's young, healthy and energetic. A second reason is societally tied to the first. Heaps of honor and reputation were associated with marriage in Han China, which persisted beyond its fall. This is best highlighted by ghost marriages, which is where two families, typically nobles, would move the corpses of their deceased, sub-20 year old son and daughter to a paired burial plot, joining them posthumously in holy matrimony. In rare circumstances, living daughters would even marry dead sons, forcing them into a life of celibacy while they acted as a family caretaker. I imagine this wasn't great for the daughter's self-esteem. Ghost marriages weren't particularly common, usually arranged due to superstitions or desperate political reasons, but they occurred enough to signify the importance of marrying and marrying young in ancient China. That Wautuan marries at 24 then is indicative of financial security on the part of Wei Shu and the holding of a prized possession. Sons provide far more value in ancient patriarchal societies, but if they don't exist, the first born and likely only, daughter of a financially independent noble gains a lot of worth. These two elements allowed Wei Shu to wait for the right match and is why I think Wautuan was an only child. Back to her husband in question. I said he's a Tianxi disciple. What I didn't say is he's also a prominent figure in the budding religion. As a steam and a religion is often tied to seniority, this indicates Wautuan's husband is far older than her, like ik levels of old. This could have been another reason Wautuan wasn't thrilled about her marriage. Another evidence to suggest a large age gap is that he'll die not long after her father, Wei Shu, leaving Wautuan a widow in her 30s. Whatever his age, he's got enough in the tank to get jiggy with Wautuan at least twice, leading to the birth of their two sons. I can only hazard a guess that their scant bedroom encounters ceased completely after that. Again, Tianxi Taoists believe in the preservation of sexual energy to maintain one's chi. The elderly husband went back to preaching once he'd fulfilled his breeding duties, and Wautuan devoted herself to her children. Whatever path she'd wished her life had taken, the fact is she's a mom now. Whether driven by innate maternal instinct or powerful cultural norms, she dedicates herself to the upbringing in her new hometown of Nai Niang, 140 miles south of capital Loyang. For now, Wautuan Sol must sustain itself off the satisfaction of raising two good little Taoists. All the while, she prays to spirits that she can one day return to long stretches of Taoist contemplations. Her two boys' childhoods progressed similarly to her own, with resources provided for strong education. It's all a rather generic upbringing as far as we know. The sons grow up during a time when China exists as a unified state once again. In 180, when Wautuan is 28 years old, the three kingdoms era finally comes to a close after the Sima clan conquers the last independent lands, owned by the descendants of our family. Our last episode's protagonist, Sun Quan. We are now in the age of China's first Jin Empire, where peace and harmony will reign for about 10 years. Unlike Wautuan and her husband, the emperor's life after unification will mostly revolve around sex. Supposedly, he had as many as 10,000 concubines. An all-consuming focus on satiating his sexual appetite will lead to a prideful yet apathetic rule. He won, everything is gonna be great now, time to party. Where he really falters though is in the same place that gets both good and bad rulers, naming a poor heir. His successor will be his developmentally challenged son, rather than the emperor's extremely capable brother. While the emperor lives though, we've got no problems. This gives a small window for Wautuan to raise her kids without worrying about war tearing everything down. They're good boys and she's a good mom, but none of this family stuff is why she makes it in the history books. That's why we'll fast forward to 289. The emperor's health is failing, and the imperial court is showing serious signs of division. Fortunately, these conflicts are localized, and the immediate impact of a less than ideal heir won't engulf all of China in war like the Three Kingdoms era. Unfortunately, Wautuan is close to the capital. That puts her and her family in an uncertain situation. According to this, her husband dies in 289, if not a few years prior. She's now a widow, with two boys probably age 12 and 11 depending on her. She decides she needs guidance. Wautuan prepares herself for a 100 day purification ritual. The boys, I don't know, stay at a friend's house, or mom finds a nice quiet place in the woods next to a lake. She hasn't had a moment to herself in close to 13 years, and she's long overdue. During Wautuan's purification ritual, she eats only light meals, likely limited to grain-free vegan foods. She meditates daily and regularly, erasing worldly distractions and emotional impurities. In canteitions and scriptures are read and repeated to attune herself to divine frequencies. Up to three times per day, she'll bathe in waters infused with herbs or minerals, which almost certainly includes fooling mushrooms for clarity. While she rinses her body clean, she recites prayers to harmonize with celestial deities. At the conclusion of these 100 days, she is suddenly approached by four Taoist masters, bearing wild titles like Divine King of the Boiling Water Valley of the Carrier Mulberry Jade River. Simpler names range from authentic of the Great Ridge and authentic of the Void. It's this last one who will most prominently serve as Wautuan's guide towards Divinity. The war furred him by his earthly name, Wang Bao. The four masters inform Wautuan they have written her name down on the heavenly jade tablets, signifying her potential. To reach this potential, she must climb a particular mountain, one conveniently located close to where she grew up as a teenager in the capital. Oh, and she should keep her mountain ascent a secret. This is a personal journey, after all. It takes two days for her to reach and climb the mountain. Today, cavernous terrace, she meets up with Wang Bao, who presents her with 31 scrolls of scriptures. Great spiritual knowledge is contained within, knowledge that is rarely shared. Wang Bao then publicly prays to the Grand Emperor, his chief deity. He has done his duty by passing on the sacred texts. He also shares that Wautuan is only the fourth person to receive them. It is quite an honor. Somehow Wautuan makes it down from the mountain with all of these scriptures and upon returning home somehow keeps them hidden. She is then instructed to read one of those 31 texts, the yellow court scripture, 10,000 times per night. 10,000 times per night. The yellow court scripture is about 5,000 words long, which comes out to about 20 pages in a modern manuscript. That meant reading 200,000 pages every night, which equates to reading the entirety of the Lord of the Rings trilogy 170 times. Every night. Attaining divinity is hard work. Inside the yellow court scripture are guidelines for diet, sexual practices, and daily living, alongside visualization techniques for spiritual training and energy circulation. This advice is intended to not surprisingly enhance one's energy, but also to increase longevity and even reach immortality. Included with these instructions are celestial words, whose very recitation imparts vitality when set aloud. She supposedly begins communicating with deities, visualizing the truths of the universe that best train one's body, mind, and soul. In order to further her training, she also begins meeting Wang Bao daily and every other night. Discretely of course. You might think the obvious, they don't want rumors of a recent widow cavorting with a strange man. It's a good guess, but widow's remarrying was common in spite of classical Confucian texts praising widows who chose chastity over another man. More likely she didn't want anyone, either neighbors or future readers, thinking she was engaged in a sexual relationship with Wang Bao specifically. Still, it's all a bit odd, isn't it? If you feel everything after her 100 day purification ritual seems a little far fetched, I'm with you. What's wound is the original source for these, which aren't even direct from her, but from a compilation first begun 200 years after her life, and finalized as far out as in the 8th century. The pinnacle of Taoism at this time is to reach the status of an immortal. A human being who ascends to godhood through self-cultivation. It's these immortals with whom Wautun supposedly convenes, and it's they who guide her. It's unlikely Wang Bao even existed, and there's certainly no evidence for him outside of Wautun's own accounts. Wautun, then, is trying to legitimately portray herself as divinely inspired. This is important because frankly, who's going to listen to a woman at this time? No matter how useful her advice. But if she paints her insights as celestial in nature, if she demonstrates her dedication has lifted her to the heavens, that people might stop and listen to. This also calls on to question the authorship of the Yellow Court scripture. Wautun claimed to have received it as the 4th of eventually 7th Taoist masters, with uncertainty as to who originally penned it. Yet, we know the names of her guide, her husband, her kids, and her father. We know the names of supposed immortals who first existed who knows how many hundreds of years ago. Isn't it likely then that Wautun knew who wrote the Yellow Court scripture? Probably because she probably wrote it. It makes perfect sense to her that a divine authority figure would have requested an abundance of nightly readings. After all, that's exactly how she was taught as a child. Her education revolved around reading and copying down the same books until she'd memorized their contents. She learned to read and write, and now she put those talents to use. The primary reason for her Septrophage is if she admitted she wrote it, even under the guiding hand of an immortal. It immediately loses credibility simply because the author was a she. Not to mention she's clearly a mirror mortal. At least at age 37 she is. Adding further credence to the theory Wautun penned this 5,000 word guidebook is that towards the end of her life, she'll pass down the text to one of her sons. Her son, who is not some heavenly immortal, who is not even remotely important to Taoism, but is simply her son. Her son will later pass it on to another Taoist master named Yang Zhi, who will use this text to officially form the Shang-Ching sect of Taoism. Okay, so technically I lied that Wautun founded Shang-Ching Taoism, but the actual founder gave all the credit to her, so I will too. The thing is, every religion includes a founding mythology. But I don't think we should pay much attention to its mystical elements, except for what it says about society at the time, both in what they'll believe and in what is necessary to gain their attention. If you want to read about the specific meditation and visualization techniques Wautun compiled, you'll have the most luck looking for the yellow court scripture alongside its alternative name, Jade Riding. Here's two samples though. Quote, to practice Tao, wander widely, deeply live in solitude. And quote, quiet and bland, in naturally joyful non-action, attend to thoughts and worries. While Wautun is likely the author of this advice, she likely didn't pin it within a year. Instead, this is her lifetime achievement. One, she'll have to put on hold. Because in 290, the Jin Emperor dies. His developmentally challenged Sun ascends to Emperor and a power struggle ensues. The immediate impact is throwing the capital and its surrounding lands into chaos. Wautun tries to do her part to help her fracturing community by taking in and feeding poor children. This help is like a pebble acting as a dam to prevent a flood though, and she realizes she must relocate for the sake of her and her two boys' safety. By 291, she's fled with them to the southeast, though it's unclear exactly where. Probably somewhere familiar to us from last episode. Wuhan or its outskirts seems a likely destination. At 350 miles south of Luoyang, it's far enough from move from the Imperial Court shenanigans. Further, the city has morphed into a center for Taoist activity. This activity is centered around the Yellow Crane Tower, initially a watchtower constructed by the government of her old buddy, Sun Quan. After the Three Kingdoms War ended, the 160-foot tall tower found itself converted to civilian uses. This too, the Tao knows in part to Sun Quan as he embraced spirituality in his final years, even converting to Buddhism in 247. This didn't do as much to help spiritualism spread as it did to break down the barriers preventing it. We can assume that what Quan met with other Taoists in her new hometown. They exchanged notes about how to best follow the way. Some preach mundane philosophy, some argue for deeper spiritual connections. What Quan veers towards the latter, but all of this will influence her aforementioned legacy, the Yellow Court scripture. You didn't think she wrote everything needed to found a religion in a few months, did you? Rather than having received the scripture in 189, she likely began writing it, either in her head, down on paper, or a combination of the two. She continues meditating on insights and activity with roots in her father's Tianxi Taoism, itself influenced by Buddhists. Her time in her new home of, let's say, Wuhan, is split between the physical and spiritual. She simultaneously raises her sons while searching within herself, supposedly convening with immortal spirits. Nothing suggests that even after her revelations, she ever spurned her motherly duties. That said, her teenage boys now spend more time out of the house, either in school or studying martial arts. Foot will have political careers in the military, and it would be typical of them to train their martial talents. This gives Wuhan more time to live her dream life, one of isolation. Once her kids are self-sufficient, probably about 195 AD when Wuhan is 43-ish, she fully dives into the Hermit life she desperately sought in her early 20s before her father married her off. She packs her bags and leaves her sons to the house, where they'll live until promotions call them elsewhere. The next 40 years pass by in a blur. This is odd for a historical figure. Usually, we know far more about their older life than their younger. Known history though takes place in the context of civilizations. Once Wuhan separates herself from civilization, we lose out on our history. Don't get me wrong, she's still around people, likely other Talists, all of them searching for their own meaning. This means they'd respect Wuhan's privacy and provide a safe haven. This latter aspect is rather important because the conflicts that result from the Emperor's death in 290 AD will turn into multiple wars that will basically last 150 years. Not a great time to be a solitary woman living off the land. While we don't know how Wuhan lived out the rest of her life, we can use the initial teachings of the Shang-Ching's sect of Taoism to inform us of the positions she came to hold. We do this because there is a purity to her beliefs. Compare her teachings to, say, a cult leader that demands everyone donate to him, their earthly possessions, or marry their daughters to him. The cult leader's supposed beliefs of his cult then are clearly a means to a selfish end. What Wuhan, meanwhile, neither attained nor sought any earthly possessions through her instruction. It's likely she believed what she posthumously preached. We can make an educated guess that what Wuhan was asexual, someone who felt little to no sexual attraction to others. She didn't want to marry her husband. She never expressed interest in typical female societal roles. She makes it crystal clear she didn't engage in sexual acts after the death of her husband. The sexual tenets of the Shang-Ching school is the culmination of that. Whereas her father's Tianchi Taoism brought men and women closer to equal footing in the bedroom, Shang-Ching believed in limited sexual union. Marriage is still important, but the husband and wife are meant to form a union over communing with a deity, rather than with each other. Hymns are created to express sheer bliss over a Shang-Ching adherent communing with the divine. I'd like to thank that on many a morning, with Wuhan finally having found the joy of isolation she'd sought for so long, she started the day with a song. The biggest area where Shang-Ching strayed from traditional Taoism though, is its focus on the individual. This focus abandoned the use of Taoismans, a popular tool for healers back in the Three Kingdoms era. Instead of relying on others, Shang-Ching asked one to rely on themselves and gave them the instruction to do so. This led to a decrease in collective practices, so each adherent could focus on perfecting themselves, which, you know, sounds pretty reminiscent of Buddhism. Here we are on Episode 6, and we're starting to get at the heart of Linked By History, which Wuhan's story didn't happen in a vacuum. Two hundred years ago, in Episode 3 on Koniska the Great, we explored how his decentralized, tolerant state led to the rise of Mahayana Buddhism. In a plague that started in Episode 4 on Lucilla, slowly made its way to China. This plague played a role in the rise of rebel healers during Episode 5 on Suun Quan, the man himself significantly impacting the society that Wuhan grew up in. That's led us to Wuhan's mark on history, the founding tenets of the Shang-Ching school. Buddhism, plagues, and more affected the religious sect, some of which we can attribute to our past protagonists. Obviously, Lucilla didn't cause the Roman plague, but disease wrecked both the western and eastern superpowers, linking them across thousands of miles on the Silk Road that its various societies worked to maintain. The Shang-Ching school of thought would further evolve after Wuhan's death, as religions do, but she's done all she can and dies in 334 at 82 years old. That's when things get really mystical. It's recorded that rather than dying, she metamorphosed into an invisible being. She then studied the hidden mysteries of Ascension with the help of Wang Bao. Through sixteen years of rigorous meditation and study, Wuhan regains the face of a young girl. Accompanying this is a new ability to understand the Dong-Jin-Jin, the principal texts of the Shang-Ching sect of Taoism. After Wuhan ascends to the heavens is a Taoist immortal, earning her the divine name, Madame Way of the southern sacred mountain. Soon after her ascension, she'll come back to Earth to teach her successor, Yang Zi, who won her son gave the yellow-court scriptures to, providing him the illuminations of the Dong-Jin-Jin-Jin. Yang Zi then writes down this knowledge. Yet, we should attribute most of these not to Wutun's successor, but Wutun herself. I mean, okay, maybe there was a time in the world where such mystical happenings occurred. More likely, the mysticism represents an allegorical take on what transpired. You see, it was common in Tianxi Taoism, the religion of Wutun's father, that knowledge would pass from parent to child. As this was typically an oral account, we should assume Wutun did likewise. Accompanying her hand off of the yellow-court scriptures would be an oral transmission of her epiphanies, sometime prior to her death. These two would of course reach Yang Zi when her son handed over her magnum opus. That Wang Bao is involved, who again lives solely in Wutun's mind, hints that key aspects of the Dong-Jin-Jin originated from her. The fact that Yang Zi includes multiple Buddhist elements in his founding tenets, such as reincarnation and destiny, tells us Wutun shared at least some of these beliefs. The legend of her divinity gains its greatest degree of prominence in the 8th century, when religious adherents interpret environmental signals as supernatural messages from Wutun. Not surprisingly, this follows a late 7th century discovery of a lost and forgotten shrine dedicated to Wutun. This could have been an actual discovery or a construction by a religious adherent in order to ignite hope after a severe drought. Either way, knowledge of her life spreads so far in 8th century China that the emperor in 746 acknowledges her as the deity of the purple void. Not coincidentally, as Taoism gains further popularity through state acceptance, women take on larger roles as priests. This will make 8th century Taoism one of history's most gender-balanced religions, especially in the dominant Shang-Chin sect. During this time, a full one-third of Shang-Chin's religious leaders will be women. Compare that to today's Christian Protestants, where only 13% of its pastors are women, and that's as high as female representation gets for today's major religions. It's quite a legacy. Wutun started a movement that later empowered women in a manner unseen in China and in a manner the world has seen few times since. I also want to give props to Yang Zi, her successor. He didn't try to steal her work, and despite actually founding the Shang-Chin school, he gave all the credit to his predecessor. In a time, when our knowledge of history is limited to the accounts of a few individuals, a possibility exists where we could have lost Wutun's name to time. I'm glad that didn't happen. Although the Shang-Chin school no longer exists, some still use the meditation and visualization techniques put forth by Wutun. I mean, you can go out and buy a translated copy of the yellow-court scripture today if you're so inclined. In 334 AD, China is certainly not the only place where spiritualism is booming. At the beginning of this episode, I detailed how societies in Eurasia are falling apart. Rome, Cushan, Parthia, now Sasanids all experienced turmoil while Wutun was doing her best to retreat from the world. By the end of her life, these empires have all been reborn in different ways, and it's no surprise that many turned to religion to provide hope in their darkest days. Nowhere is that truer than in Rome. Constantine the Great legalized Christianity in 313, where once upon a time Roman emperors persecuted Christians, they now formed the bedrock of Roman religious and political life. Christianity, unlike Shang-Chin Taoism, with its focus on individualism, is all about community, and a community needs leaders. When you think of a Christian leader, what role springs to mind? If you said pope, we're writing the same wavelength. Next episode, we'll start with the birth of Sarisius, who would one day call himself Pope Sarisius. In fact, although the Catholic Church recognizes 37 popes prior to Sarisius, he will be the very first to actually call himself pope. Does this speak to an egotistical mind, or one in tune with the wishes of his God? Find out next time as we explore his life and do a little digging into the differences between spiritualism in the east versus the west in the 4th century. Talk to y'all soon. If you liked this episode and want to hear more, the best thing you can do is rate the podcast wherever you're listening to it, then follow me to listen to future episodes. With your help, we'll turn history from a series of forgettable names, dates, and events into memorable stories that tell the saga of humanity on a truly personal level.