SU Xiaoxiao is a legendary figure, a woman who has affected writers and poets for more than 1,000 years. Yao Minji looks at the mysterious beauty who once enchanted even her father In the summer of 2004, I suddenly found a minor piece of Hangzhou local news while touring around the United States, waiting to become a junior student. It was about arguments between Hangzhou locals and experts on whether to renovate the tombs of Wu Song and Su Xiaoxiao.

Wu Song is a legendary hero in the district, and the debate focused on Su Xiaoxiao, a famous courtesan and poet from Hangzhou (once called Qiantang) in the Southern Qi Dynasty (479-502 AD).

It was a short and much ignored period in Chinese history, not even taught in my middle school Chinese history class. I knew the period from the story of Su.

The sleeping beauty had been buried beside Xiling Bridge, a few steps from the famous Broken Bridge (Duan Qiao) alongside the West Lake, for more than 1,000 years. A simple pavilion was built later to house the tomb. Both were destroyed in the early 1970s during the cultural revolution (1966-1976) and were hastily rebuilt in the 1980s.

Those supporting the proposal considered it a great attraction and one that would complement all the other cultural sites of the "Heaven on Earth." But others argued that the tomb of a courtesan should not be promoted as an attraction for the city.

I almost froze in Hawaii as I read the news online and remembered how disappointed I was the first time I visited the scruffy-looking tiny pavilion and tomb.

Before I discovered all the tales of the talented and legendary goddess, I had imagined she was my dad's secret mistress.

I had first encountered the name 10 or 11 years before, when I had just entered the rebellious period of adolescence. On a weekend trip to Hangzhou in June, my dad made a sudden stop at the tomb. It was so plain and small that I hadn't noticed it on the way from the Broken Bridge to the Solitary Mountain.

Dad took out piece of paper, with nicely written calligraphy on it, and read a poem before burning the paper at the tomb. I didn't remember the exact poem but it sounded like a love letter.

Wow! Dad's so brave and he must really love this woman to visit the tomb of his late secret mistress even when I was with him, I thought and wondered who this "Su Xiaoxiao from Qiantang" (carved on the tomb) was. Was she more beautiful than my mom?

My question made my father laugh long and loudly. "Well, interestingly yes, she is my secret mistress, to certain extent so let's keep it our secret. Don't tell your mom!"

He then told me about Su who was a courtesan who died more than 1,000 years ago and listed all the writers who wrote poems or essays to commemorate her - a list that included all the famous names from my Chinese literature text books.

"You can say she's the secret mistress of all those writers," said dad.

I was fascinated and confused. How can all these smart and sophisticated people (including my dad) have such deep affection for a woman who died more than 1,000 years ago? They don't even know what she looked like.

In her own words, her story goes:

"I ride in a delicate carriage.

My darling rides a young horse.

Where should we tie the knot for our hearts?

Under the Xiling pine and cypress."

This is the poem (untitled) by Su that has established her glory in thousands of Chinese literary hearts continuously for over 1,000 years.

It's written in a common Chinese poetical structure - four lines of five words each - with no difficult words or metaphors. I could understand it completely back then, when I was around 14.

Today, Chinese people still use the phrase "tie the knots of our hearts" particularly at weddings. Tong xin jie, literally meaning same heart knots, is a common pattern of Chinese knots expressing the hope that two separate hearts or souls will be linked just like two ropes are woven into a knot.

It is common to congratulate the newly-weds by saying "I hope the two of you will tie the knots of your hearts forever," wishing hope for a long-lasting true love. The pattern also inspired a logo used in the 2008 Beijing Olympics as well, with "heart-to-heart" written on it. It was intended to show our hospitality and good wishes being shared with athletes and spectators from other countries.

That is the only official and contemporary record one can find about Su. It was first recorded in a collection of poems and songs from the period a few dozen years after she wrote this.

Naturally, the courtesan's story is nowhere to be found in official historical records, and there's not much even in the "wild history" pieces often written but not recognized by the government of the time.

Most of her stories came from creations of writers after her death, right up to contemporary times and including poems, plays, novels and high art. One can never prove the accuracy of any tale, but that has not decreased her charm for later writers and artists at all. After more than 1,000 years, she remains the romantic heroine for many major literary and artistic figures.

Here's a summary of Su's life collated from the works of writers.

Su, born to a rich family, was forced into prostitution when her father passed away and the family's fortune collapsed, just as she turned 15. She soon became famous for her beauty and talent in literature and the arts. Then she encountered the love of her life - the son of the prime minister, a handsome and talented young man.

Deeply in love, the two got married without his permission. The father was furious at losing face because his son had married a courtesan, and a famous one. Under pressure from his father, the husband asked Su if she would become his concubine - one of the best outcomes for a courtesan in those days.

But she immediately refused and divorced her husband, a shockingly radical decision for the time. She never saw him again and in her late teens became associated with a poor scholar. Charmed by the man's intellectual talents, she sold some of her jewelry so he could travel to the capital for the imperial examination.

He returned right after passing all the examinations. But the young courtesan passed away just days before his arrival.

It was said that she was grateful for the early death which allowed her to preserve her beauty. She said she wished to rest by the Xiling Bridge on her beloved West Lake - where she hoped to "tie knots under pine and cypress."

In fact, the tomb was empty when it was destroyed during the cultural revolution, but that doesn't matter.