Empress Orchid (24 page)

“What would happen if Hsien Feng refused to sign the treaty?”

“His Majesty doesn’t have a choice. Foreign troops are already stationed in Tientsin. Their target would be Peking. The bayonet is at our throat.” Looking at Tung Chih, Prince Kung said, “I am afraid I must go back to work now.”

As I watched him walk down the corridor, I felt fortunate that at least Tung Chih had this man as an uncle.

WITHIN WEEKS of his birth, Tung Chih was due for his first ceremony. It was called
Shih-san,
the Three Baths. According to the scripture of our ancestors, the ritual would ensure Tung Chih’s place in the universe. The night before the event, my palace was decorated anew by the eunuchs, who wrapped the beams and eaves in cloth dyed red and green. By nine o’clock the next morning everything was set. Pumpkin-shaped red lanterns hung in front of the gates and hallways.

I was excited because my mother, my sister Rong and brother Kuei Hsiang had received permission to join me. Their visit was the first since I had entered the Forbidden City. I imagined how delighted my mother would be when I passed Tung Chih to her to hold. I hoped he would smile. I wondered how Rong had been doing. There was a young man I planned to introduce her to.

Kuei Hsiang had recently been honored with my father’s title. He now had the choice of either staying in Peking and living off his annual taels or following in our father’s footsteps, working his way toward a career in the Imperial court. Kuei Hsiang chose the former, which didn’t surprise me; he lacked our father’s determination. Nevertheless, it would be a comfort to my mother to have her son close by.

When the sun warmed the garden and the fragrance of flowers filled the air, the guests began to arrive. Among them were the senior concubines of Tung Chih’s grandfather Tao Kuang. I remembered those crones well from the Palace of Benevolent Tranquility.

“You should really consider their presence an honor, my lady,” An-te-hai said. “They rarely venture out in public; Buddhists are supposed to cultivate solitude.”

The ladies arrived in groups, dressed in thin, dirt-colored cotton. Their gift boxes were not red but yellow, with wrapping made of dry leaves. Later I would discover that they all contained the same thing, a statue of a sitting Buddha carved out of a piece of wood or jade.

I stood by the gate and greeted the guests in my lovely peach-colored robe. Carried by a lady in waiting, Tung Chih was bundled in golden cloth. He had just opened his eyes and was in a cheerful mood. He gazed at the visitors with the look of a sage. By the time the sun was above the roof, the royal relatives who lived outside the Forbidden City had arrived, among them Prince Kung, Prince Ts’eng, Prince Ch’un and their
fujins
and children.

Emperor Hsien Feng and Nuharoo appeared at noon. Their arrival was announced by a double line of colorfully dressed eunuchs that stretched for half a mile. Hsien Feng’s dragon chair and Nuharoo’s phoenix chair advanced toward the palace gate between the ranks of eunuchs.

The Emperor had come to my palace the night before for tea. He had brought Tung Chih a gift: his own belt, the one made of horsehair and folded white silk ribbons. He thanked me for giving him a son.

Gathering all my courage, I told him that I had been lonely. Although I had Tung Chih, I said, I felt confused and lost. I begged him to spend the night. “It has been too long, Hsien Feng.”

He understood but wouldn’t stay. Over the past few months he had filled every available bedroom in the Summer Palace with beauties from around the country. He said, “I am not well. The doctor has advised me to sleep alone in order to prevent my essence from leaking.”

I began to understand Nuharoo, Ladies Yun, Li, Mei and Hui, and those whom the Son of Heaven no longer desired or remembered.

“I have signed an edict granting you a new title,” my husband said, rising to leave. “It will be announced tomorrow, and I hope you will be pleased. From now on, you will have the same rank and title as Nuharoo.”

The
Shih-san
ceremony began. The concubines scattered after Nuharoo gave them permission to sit down. The ladies were dressed in festivalthemed gowns as if attending an opera. They looked around and criticized everything.

Nuharoo said to me, “Please be seated, younger sister.” Her eyes softened, although the dark heavy lines of her makeup still looked harsh.

I sat down on a chair next to her.

The crowd sensed that Nuharoo was about to speak. They gathered closer and stretched their necks to show their eagerness to listen.

“Pity me as a woman,” Nuharoo spoke to the crowd. “I am guilty toward His Majesty. It is my misfortune for not being able to bear him children. Tung Chih is my chance to prove to him my loyalty. I felt that I was already Tung Chih’s mother when Lady Yehonala’s belly began to swell.” She smiled at her own words. “I am in love with my son.”

There was no trace of irony in her voice. I wished I were wrong about her intentions. If love was all she had for Tung Chih, I would gladly let her have her way. But my instincts as a mother ran deep, and I felt that any trust would be misplaced.

“Come and share my happiness, everyone!” Nuharoo cheered. “Meet my heavenly boy, Tung Chih!”

The concubines tried hard to show enthusiasm. Their faces were covered with paint and their heads heavily decorated with ornaments. They got down on their knees and wished Nuharoo and me “ten thousand years of longevity.” I didn’t feel comfortable when the ladies surrounded the cradle. They kissed Tung Chih on the cheeks. Their red-smeared lips made me think of hungry wolves tearing a rabbit to shreds.

I smelled an unusual herb as Lady Yun walked by. She was in a pale yellow silk dress embroidered with white chrysanthemums. Her earrings were two walnut-sized balls that dangled to her shoulders. When Lady Yun sat down and smiled, dimples showed on her cheeks.

“Does the baby sleep through the night?” she asked. “Not yet?”

Nuharoo and I exchanged glances.

“I would appreciate some words of good luck,” Nuharoo said to Lady Yun.

“Did you notice that the plum trees have just blossomed?” As if she hadn’t heard Nuharoo, Lady Yun went on. “The strangest thing happened this morning at my palace.”

“And what is that?” the other ladies asked, stretching their necks toward Lady Yun like geese.

“In the corner of my bedroom”—Lady Yun lowered her voice to a whisper—“I discovered a giant mushroom. It was as big as a human head!”

Seeing that she had stunned her audience, Lady Yun smiled. “More
strange things are going to happen. My astrologer read a sign of death from a spider web in a sweet osmanthus tree. Of course, I am not unaware of such things myself. Emperor Hsien Feng has told me many times that he turns into a rag as he sleeps and is carried by the southern wind directly to Heaven. His Majesty wishes no farewell ceremony. It is his decision that we shall all be widowed.”

Nuharoo sat with her back as straight as a pine tree. She blinked her eyes and decided to ignore Lady Yun. She took up her teacup and lifted the lid to sip.

The rest of the ladies followed suit. We dipped our noses in our teacups in unison.

I wondered if Lady Yun was sane. The line seemed to blur as I continued observing. There was truth in her words when she began to sing “Dust in the Wind”:

Finally my mother’s palanquin reached the side entrance of the Gate of Celestial Purity. The moment I saw Mother getting out, I burst into tears. She had aged, and now leaned helplessly on the arms of Rong and Kuei Hsiang. Before I finished my ceremonial greeting, Mother broke down. “Congratulations, Orchid. I didn’t think I would live to see my grandson.”

“The lucky moment has arrived!” Chief Eunuch Shim’s call came from the hallway. “Music and fireworks!”

Guided by eunuchs specially trained in ritual, I moved through the crowd. I asked Emperor Hsien Feng if my mother could sit with me, and he granted my wish. My family was so happy they wept. With difficulty Mother leaned over and touched Tung Chih for the first time. “I am ready to go see your father in peace,” she said to me.

After we sat down, Rong and Kuei Hsiang reported that they had been taking Mother to the best doctors in Peking. She looked frail. I took Mother’s hands in mine. By custom, my family couldn’t stay overnight in the Forbidden City, and we would have to part when the ceremony ended. The idea that I might never see Mother again disturbed me so much that I ignored Nuharoo’s request that I join her to receive members of the court.

“Think this way, Orchid,” Mother said, trying to comfort me. “Dying will be a relief for me, since I am in so much pain.”

I leaned my head on Mother’s shoulder and was unable to say a word.

“Try not to spoil the moment, Orchid.” Mother smiled.

I made an effort to look cheerful. It didn’t seem real to me that everyone was here for my son.

Kuei Hsiang had begun to mingle in the crowd and I could hear him laugh. I could tell that the rice wine had taken effect.

Rong was more beautiful but thinner than the last time I had seen her.

“Rong’s future has not yet been settled, and that worries me,” Mother said with a sigh. “She hasn’t been as lucky as you. Not one worthy proposal, and she is over twenty.”

“There is a man I have been thinking of for Rong,” I told Mother.

“I can’t wait to hear his name.”

“He is the newly widowed Prince Ch’un, Hsien Feng’s seventh brother.”

Mother was thrilled.

“However,” I warned, “‘widowed’ doesn’t mean that Prince Ch’un has no wives or concubines. It is just the first wife’s position that is vacant.”

“I see.” Mother nodded. “Still, Prince Ch’un would be an excellent opportunity for Rong. She would be the Nuharoo of Ch’un’s household, wouldn’t she?”

“That’s correct, Mother, if she can get him to be interested.”

“What more can a family of our background ask? A life free of hunger—that is all I ever wanted for my children. My marriage with your father was arranged. We had never met before our wedding. It turned out nicely, though, didn’t it?”

“More than nicely, Mother.”

We were quiet for a time, our fingers locked tightly together. Then Mother said, “My thinking is, you and Rong could become close if this engagement works out. It’ll be my last wish on earth that you watch out for each other. Besides, Rong can be an extra eye for you regarding Tung Chih’s safety.”

I nodded at Mother’s wisdom.

“Go now to your sister, Orchid,” Mother said, “and leave me to spend a few moments alone with my grandson.”

I went to Rong and took her to the back of the garden. We sat down
in a tiny stone pavilion. I explained my thoughts and Mother’s wish. Rong was pleased that I had kept my promise of finding her a suitor.

“Will Prince Ch’un like me?” she asked. “How should I prepare myself?”

“Let’s see if he will fall for you first. My question to you is—and this is crucial—will you be able to endure the hardships I have endured?”

“Hardships? You are mocking me, aren’t you?”

A sense of uncertainty rushed through my mind. Rong had no idea what I was talking about.

“Rong, my life is not what it seems. You need to see this. I don’t want to be the cause of your regret. I just don’t want to set up a tragedy.”

Rong blushed. “But Orchid, I have dreamed only of having the same opportunity you have. I want to be envied by women all over China.” She smiled broadly.

“Answer my question, Rong, please. Can you bear to lose your husband to others?”

Rong thought first and then replied, “If it is the way things have been for hundreds of years, I don’t see why I should be the one to have problems.”

I took a breath and gave my last warning. “When you are in love with a man, you will change. I am telling you from experience, the pain is unbearable. You will feel your heart being stir-fried in a hot pan.”

“I better make sure I don’t fall in love, then.”

“You might not be able to control things.”

“Why?”

“Well, because to love is to live—at least that’s true for me.”

“What do I do, then, Orchid?” Confused, Rong’s eyes widened.

Sadness filled my chest and I had to remain silent to control myself.

Rong put her cheek gently against mine. “You must have fallen in love with Emperor Hsien Feng.”

“It was … foolish of me.”

“I’ll remember your lesson, Orchid. I know it must be hard. But I still envy my elder sister. There hasn’t been a decent man in my life. It makes me think that I am unattractive.”

“You know that is nonsense, Rong. How unattractive can you be when your sister is an Imperial consort, the face of China?”

Rong smiled and nodded.

“It’s true, you have grown prettier.” I put my arm around her shoulder. “I want you to be aware of your beauty every minute from now on.”

“What does ‘minute’ mean?”

“It is a needle on a clock.”

“What is a clock?”

“Well, I’ll show you. Clocks are the Emperor’s toys. They tell time. Clocks hide in metal boxes, like snails in their shells. Each box has a little ticking heart inside.”

“Like a living creature?”

“Yes. But they are not alive. Most of them were made by men in foreign countries. You will own many of them when you marry Prince Ch’un.”

I took out my powder brush. “Listen, Rong,” I said, “as the sister of Hsien Feng’s favorite concubine, you should know that men are dying to possess you, but they might not have enough courage to walk up to you and say what is on their mind. I’ll talk with His Majesty about matching you up with his brother. If I obtain his blessing, the rest will be easy.”

By the time Rong and I went back to Mother and Kuei Hsiang, the music and fireworks had ended. Chief Eunuch Shim announced that the first part of the ceremony was over, and the second part, the Bath in Gold, would now start. At his call, four eunuchs carried out a tub made of gold. They placed the tub in the center of the courtyard under a blooming magnolia and filled it with water. Coal heaters were set around the tub.

A group of maids got down on their knees next to the tub while two wet nurses carried my son out. The maids stripped Tung Chih and placed him in the tub. He screamed, but his protest was ignored. The maids held his little legs and arms the way they would when skinning a rabbit. Everyone seemed to find this entertaining. My son’s every cry pained me. It was hard to sit still, but I knew I must endure. There was a price to pay for Tung Chih’s stature. Each ceremony would bring him closer to becoming the legitimate heir.