The older a fellow gets, the easier it becomes to condone, if not openly endorse, concubinage.  Especially in China. Back west, almost all taboos have fallen, but not our need for them. Hence the ongoing prejudice there against May-December relationships, even May -September. Far better a young woman slave away as an underpaid secretary or waitress then suffer the exploitation of having a sugar daddy. Certainly, certainly.

But in China, the concubine's status is a little more complex. Before 1912, an er nai  [second breast] had rights of support, and her children were officially acknowledged. She didn't necessarily have to be ashamed, especially with a particularly powerful sugar daddy. Many well-connected concubines used their patronage to empower themselves and their family members, a strategy still well in-play today. The tragic part comes when true love rears its unwelcome head, as it did with Yang Yuhuan and her sugar daddy, Emperor Guo Zhong.

In Tang Dynasty China, advanced as it was for the times, a woman could never hope for an enlightened Sex and the City lifestyle. Her only chance at security, to say nothing of fulfillment, was to marry as well as possible.  Yang Yuhuan had a noble father, humble though his village was. As for looks, she ranks in the world's most popular nation as one of its four all time beauties, with a face to fluster Kongzi, and curves to make a Buddhist abbot forget his vows. Such merits got her betrothed to Prince Li Mao, son of Emperor Xuanzong and his Consort (glorified concubine) Wu.

Consort Wu passed a few years later, leaving Emperor Xuanzong in need of a new top beauty. Enter Gao Lishi, a court eunuch, and hence given to sowing discord at every turn. He managed to not only get Princess Yang into a private audience with his emperor, but also to display her formidable singing and dancing skills. Dragon blood runs red, too, and Xuanzong determined then and there to have her for himself, daughter-in-law or no.

In a Machiavellian series of social chess maneuvers, Xuanzong had Princess Yang sequestered as a Taoist nun, substituted a general's daughter for his son's new wife, and then had newly-nunneried Yang proclaimed Yang the Supreme Truth. A master of all things Tao recognized by the throne, she could now become part of Xuanzong's court. The final stroke was to name her Yang Guifei, a title of glorified concubinage even higher than the one bestowed on old Consort Wu,  Huifei.

So began a May-September relationship that by all accounts blossomed from one-sided lust into mutual love and affection.  At this point Yang Guifei was twenty-two, her emperor fifty-six, but her charms so transported Xuanzong that he often acted as a youngster besotted with puppy love, having lychee fruit pony-expressed from Guangdong just to see her smile, and like antics.  Tang poet Bai Juyi put it thusly:

Her hair like a cloud, her face like a flower,
A gold hair-pin adorning her tresses.
Behind the warm lotus-flower curtain,
They took their pleasures in the spring night.
Regretting only the spring nights were too short;
Rising only when the sun was high;
He stopped attending court sessions
In the early morning.
Constantly she amused and feasted with him,
Accompanying him on his spring outings,
Spending all the nights with him.
Though many beauties were in the palace,
More than three thousand of them,
All his favors were centered upon her."

Of course, Xuanzong was obliged to show his appreciation for all those nights behind the lotus-flower curtain.  Soon Yang Guifei's family found itself in the stratosphere of Tang imperial power. Mom became the Lady Liang, for starters. Cousins Yang instantly attained high officialdom, as did Uncle Yang, plus the hand of Xuanzong's favored daughter in marriage, to boot.  However, it was second cousin Yang Zhao who took most readily to court life, flattering the emperor with innate skill, his star rising in accordance.

In due time, Yang Zhao became chancellor, and assumed the title Yang Guozhong. Sad that so many blessed with divine favor take it as a sign of divine right. Yang Guozhong sank into corruption like a blowfly into a fresh cowflop.  Many took notice, life in Tang China became noticeably less prosperous, but few could stop him, and the one who could most easily, Emperor Xuanzong, was too preoccupied with Guozhong's cousin to be of use.

But others in the Tang Dynasty were rising in power. Fortress towns on the northern border were led by military governors, who enjoyed great authority and military resources. One governor named An Lushan, became a special goad to Yang Guozhong, who with Sun Tzu patience provoked An into rebelling against his emperor, by assassinating his best friend.

An Lushan led almost 200,000 troops against the capital, leaving a swath of destruction in his wake. Emperor Xuanzong disentangled himself from Yang Guifei just in time to order the city evacuated, quitting Chang An himself with a massive cortege, his beloved concubine close to his bosom, his disgraced chancellor not far behind. They headed for Chengdu, but never made it. The retinue halted by a little village, demanding the deaths of the those who had brought their empire to ruin, Yang Guifei and Yang Guozhong. The latter never had a chance to plead his case, and was executed with dispatch.

Much harder, though, to kill a beautiful woman. Aware of the impasse, and with courage becoming to one of her blood, Yang Guifei hanged herself from a tree branch with a white scarf. In time, the rebellion was quelled, but not Emperor Xuanzong's grief. He spent the remainder of his days moping about the royal grounds, seeing her in a new lotus, a sparrow taking wind, a drifting summer cloud. The Tang slipped into irreversible decline. Call her what you will - opportunist, slut, despoiler - but Yang Guifei was one concubine even Oprah couldn't call disempowered.