An indeterminate number of years ago, I decided to escape from my lush but confined life in the jewel city of China-- strapped with gold and jade, I headed for the Silk Road, soon forced to subside on nothing but powdered jade, a little-known Chinese elixir for immortality. Having roamed for centuries through the Middle East, I eventually found la Ville-Lumiere, and years later, London. It was in the city of Londres that I fell deeply in love with a brilliant bon vivant who united all the charms my imagination had dreamt of. Alas, it was certain that this was a love that could never be, as this young man had been engaged to a distant cousin since birth.

The thought of this impossible love haunted me during every hour of the day, and my mind became so tormented that I began to indulge in opium for forgetfulness-- repeatedly, constantly. From that point on, a life of hedonism became the vehicle I used to bide the fingers of time while drifting through an endless array of smoky, dream-like encounters. I was told that Hector Berlioz transcribed my stories in his Symphonie Fantastique. I was unaware.

The Chinese surmise I was kidnapped by Turks during the An Shi rebellion; the French speculate that I was murdered with an ivory Laguiole in the 19th century.