Chapter Sixty-One: The Women's Movement

Rituals are dull affairs for a modern person—if Yan Luo had emotions, he might have been bored; in truth, he felt nothing, so impatience was foreign to him.

The proceedings consisted of the high priest’s speech, a choir of boys aged thirteen to fifteen singing hymns to the gods, and the offering of a beautiful cow to Zeus. Legend holds that the king of Olympus once transformed into a bull and united with Europa, a Phoenician princess—the origin of the name “Europe.”

From morning till noon, food was distributed, and Yan Luo received a piece of barley bread, which he ate with water.

Unlike the Dionysian festival, whose theme was revelry, here all were required to maintain solemnity. In the afternoon, athletes sat quietly before the grand hall of Zeus’s temple, reflecting on the greatness of the gods; some whispered among themselves.

Two hours passed thus, and the next segment began: athletes from each city-state introduced themselves.

Yan Luo stepped forward, presenting himself as an “honorary citizen of Athens,” hailing from the eastern land of “Huaxia.” During this segment, the other athletes remained silent, though the high priest asked several questions about Huaxia.

During this time, the emotion value stored in the Heartless Doll reached one hundred points.

The types were varied, and not neatly divided into ten-point units; Yan Luo blended them carelessly, failing as expected, but gained five percent of the mask of heroic souls.

Just then, a commotion arose in the distance. A priest, flustered, came running, prompting the high priest’s face to darken as he scolded: “Such panic during a ritual—what do you think you’re doing? Do you wish to displease Zeus, king of the gods?”

“It’s terrible!”

Bowing awkwardly toward the statue of Zeus, the priest said, “The women of Olympia have revolted!”

“What?”

The high priest was utterly baffled. In Greece, slavery was common, and the occasional slave uprising was hardly surprising—but women revolting? In this era, women ranked scarcely above livestock; as a religious official, he regarded women with even greater contempt, believing them inherently impure, liable to desecrate the divine. How dare they rebel?

“And the city guard?”

“The soldiers dare not intervene.” The priest’s face was grim. “Many women are marching through the streets, led by Socrates, Herodotus, Sophocles, Hippocrates—those scholars from Athens.”

The high priest’s mouth dropped open. Socrates, though only in his thirties, was already well known in Athens, though not famed in other city-states—but Herodotus and Sophocles had long been celebrated! How had these men come to Olympia? And why were they leading a women’s revolt?

He was completely at a loss.

From afar, shouts echoed faintly—

“Long live women’s rights! Liberation for women!”

“Live brilliantly, live confidently—be the new women of Greece!”

“Women hold up half the sky!”

The high priest gaped, his face awash with disbelief. The athletes seated on the marble plaza before Zeus’s temple were equally astonished; among them, only Yan Luo remained composed, expressionless.

He felt intense emotion:

Confusion +1, +1, +1, +1…

Shock +1, +1, +1, +1…

Within the Heartless Doll, the accumulation of emotions soared!

Outside Zeus’s temple, on the streets of Olympia, a crowd numbering in the thousands advanced. Most were women, though a few men mingled among them; at the head marched a dozen scholars in long robes.

The illustrious minds of Athens!

“Brother Wang, your slogans are a bit too modern, aren’t they?” Zhu Xiaoyong muttered, his face lined with worry.

He was dressed in Greek fashion, though his physique resembled that of a Persian merchant. He wore a mask, though it hardly mattered—his bulk stood out in this era. Beside him, Wang Dongwei also wore a mask and headscarf, looking much like an Arab woman.

This precaution was necessary; neither of them were scholars like Socrates, and if they lost their eligibility for the chariot race due to inciting unrest, the main quest would be ruined.

“Never mind that, as long as it works,” Wang Dongwei replied.

Zhu Xiaoyong observed the passionate women chanting slogans and felt puzzled. “I find Greek women surprisingly easy to rouse—seems it took little effort.”

“That’s not surprising. The oppression they endure is immense. You must realize that ancient Greek women were regarded as objects for lowly pleasure, bought and sold, even seen as the source of impurity and evil… Though it’s a bit better than ancient India, where plague, death, hell, vipers, and fire were all considered preferable to women. If a husband died, and his wife did not throw herself onto the funeral pyre to be burned alive, she would be cursed by all.” Wang Dongwei whispered in Mandarin, “The oppression of women has built up for centuries. The Olympics are Greece’s grandest event—you can’t understand what the Games mean to Greeks if you’re not of this era.”

“If a woman were caught watching the Olympics, the result was death. Still, some risked their lives to witness them in secret.”

“These two factors coming together are like gunpowder meeting a flame—and most crucially, you have these esteemed scholars out front, giving women courage to march, and let’s not forget the talent we hired for a whole talent of silver—that’s over seventy pounds! Paid to set the mood.”

Wang Dongwei surveyed the procession, which grew as more women joined along the route.

Their numbers swelled to several thousand as the march reached the vicinity of Zeus’s temple; the procession halted before the Olympic stadium’s gates and its fully enclosed walls.

Olympia’s city guard—over a hundred soldiers in leather armor, bearing spears and round shields—were at a loss. If it were only women, they could simply stab a few to disperse the crowd, but those scholars… not even the guard captains dared to act.

In this era, knowledge was precious; ordinary people held scholars in reverence and awe, some even believing scholars ranked just below the gods.

“We want to watch the Olympics!”

“We want to see the Games!”

“Why are we forbidden? We are not impure!”

Women in the procession cried out; as their voices rose, many eyes reddened. The feelings accumulated from years of oppression found release, and the crowd’s calm gave way to agitation, which soon swelled into collective emotion.

“Anyone who opposes our right to watch the Olympics—smash his dog head!” Inspired, Zhu Xiaoyong shouted a slogan that carried a touch of humor.

“Smash his dog head!”

A woman in the crowd, moved by these words, picked up a stone and hurled it at the city guards blocking the Olympic plaza gates.

Others quickly followed her example; soon, stones rained down like hail. The soldiers, their faces twisted in anger, dared not retaliate with the Athens scholars present. They had no choice but to raise their shields, kneel, and hide behind them.

“To prevent their demands from being suppressed after the march, this isn’t enough.” Wang Dongwei said gravely, “We must further stir their emotions.”

“Victory or defeat hinges on this moment!”

Now, with his headscarf and mask, dressed in Greek attire, he steeled himself, took a deep breath, and sang out in ancient Greek, clear and loud:

“Rise up, all who are oppressed! Rise up, suffering women of Greece! Let your blood boil! Fight for your right to see the Olympics!”

His voice caused a brief hush in the procession; then, Socrates and the other scholars joined in, singing the song taught to them before the march. The lyrics and melody even drew praise from the wise men of Greece.

Especially Sophocles, who was greatly moved—he believed this new style of singing would bring a dramatic revolution and planned to collaborate with Euripides, including the song in “The Mortal’s Path to Immortality”—though he would certainly revise the lyrics.

Alongside the scholars, paid agents hidden in the crowd had also taught the song.

Dozens joined in the chorus of the “Women’s Song.” Many sang off-key, but followed the general melody, and the lyrics’ infectious power immediately stirred the crowd, largely composed of women.

Gradually, even those unfamiliar with the tune or lyrics began to hum along instinctively.

The song grew ever louder.

Outside Zeus’s temple and the Olympic stadium, the chorus resounded to the heavens.

“Let the old order be swept away—
Women, rise up, rise up!
Do not say we have nothing,
We shall be masters of all Greece!
This is our final struggle,
Unite for tomorrow,
Our goal to see the Olympics must be achieved!”

Sensing the moment was right, Wang Dongwei raised a wooden megaphone, shouting himself hoarse: “Tear down Olympia’s walls! Seize the Olympic stadium! Let all Greece hear our voices!”

“Comrades, brothers, sisters—charge! Charge!”