Aren’t you glad Portland’s heat has finally eased—if only a little? This is when hibiscus starts to shine. I adore our Rose of Sharon (Hibiscus syriacus)—its petals so fine they could be spun from the airy sleeves of a flowing hanfu robe. That’s why hibiscus takes the stage as Lan Su’s Flower (and Floral Immortal) of August.

This month’s spotlight goes to a close cousin of the Rose of Sharon—one we don’t yet have in the garden, but absolutely deserves the honor: Hibiscus mutabilis (a.k.a. 木芙蓉, Mùfúróng). If you are a master gardener, you might already know that this kind of hibiscus is a born performer. Each bloom wakes in pristine white, blushes to soft pink by midday, and deepens into a rich rose-red by nightfall.

Hibiscus mutabilis blooms in morning, mid-day, and afternoon. (Photo by George Wu)

The Legendary Love Triangle

But what about its floral immortal? In Chinese tradition, these delicate blooms are linked to the ethereal Luòshén (洛神), Goddess of the Luo River. Legend tells us Luòshén was none other than Lady Zhen (甄宓), a celebrated beauty and an empress of the late Eastern Han dynasty (25–220 CE). She’s best remembered for a legendary love triangle with Emperor Cao Pi and his younger brother, the poet Cao Zhi. Before marrying the emperor, whispers suggest she shared a deep, unspoken bond with the more talented, younger brother. Politics, however, swept her into the elder brother’s palace, turning love into lifelong longing. Quite the royal scandal.

Some say their story inspired the “Seven Steps to a Poem” (七步成詩) episode. Jealous and suspicious of this love affair, Emperor Cao Pi challenged his brother to compose a poem about brotherhood in the time it took to walk seven steps—without using the word “brother.” Failure meant death. Under that crushing pressure, Cao Zhi replied:

Beans are boiled to make soup,

from stalks plucked from the same root.

Born of the same branch,

why so eager to burn each other?

The beans and their stalk share one root—just as he and Cao Pi shared the same parents—yet one destroyed the other. It was a plea, a rebuke, and a life-saving act of genius in four lines. The emperor was touched and let his younger brother live.

A Goddess is Born

After Lady Zhen’s untimely death, Cao Zhi immortalized his feelings by claiming to have met her spirit by the Luo River. It was believed that she has become the Goddess of the Luo River; leaving the world behind on a dragon-pulled carriage (very cool ride!) ——and capturing her in his masterpiece Rhapsody on the Goddess of the Luo River to mourn for their love.

Honestly—if I were Lady Zhen, I’d choose the man who could turn a death sentence into literary immortality. And if time travel were an option, Cao Zhi would dominate Portland’s poetry slams.

Lady Zhen and her tragic love romance might be long gone, but you shouldn’t miss visiting the hibiscus varieties at Lan Su.

Curious about its horticultural side of the hibiscus? Check out the latest Hort Tidbit from our Curator of Horticulture HERE.