“Take a look at what they have done.” The Mistress waved at me.
I went over to see.
The Mistress removed the egg tray and the pillow. A perfect fan presented itself—the stack of paper money had been moved into the intended shape.
“Now try it yourself,” the Mistress said, putting down the tray and the pillow.
I couldn’t move.
“You might as well face it,” the Mistress said. “It is a man’s world.”
The girls offered to help take off my clothes.
I felt foolish. My body became tense.
“Your future depends on your performance.” The Mistress’s voice was flat, without emotion. “You must make the man think of you as magical or he will not call you back.”
“Yes,” I replied in a weak voice.
“Then quit fighting and let go. A good life doesn’t come free.” The Mistress led me to the bed and motioned for me to squat. “The fact is, life comes easy to nobody.”
Embarrassed, I told An-te-hai and Big Sister Fann to leave the room.
The two exited without a word.
I got down and squatted like a hen. The position was so awkward that my limbs became sore almost instantly. I moved my behind in circles. The touch of the eggs brought with it an odd sensation. I struggled with my knees and ankles to stay in position.
“Keep going.” The Mistress reached out and stabilized the egg tray underneath me. “Perfection needs time.”
“I don’t have time.” I rocked my behind and began to gasp. “Ten days is all I have.”
“You’ve got to be crazy to think you can master the trick in ten days.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I was not crazy.”
“Only a fool would expect herself to drink hot porridge in one gulp.”
“I understand, but I must get it done before …” Before my sentence ended, a cracking sound came from my bottom.
It was the eggs. I had crushed them.
The Mistress grabbed a towel to keep the yolks from spilling. Quickly, she replaced the broken eggs with new ones.
Getting back into position, I balanced myself on both hands. My body felt like a strange object. I rocked, bearing my developing muscle pain.
“Ten days is definitely a torture.” The Mistress now was admiring my strength. “You need to take breaks. You don’t want to crush the eggs again.”
“No, I don’t. However, I can’t afford not to keep going.”
“There is another way to attract men.” The Mistress got off her chair. She took the pipe out of her mouth and knocked it on her sole to empty the ash. “Care to hear it?”
I nodded.
The girls came and handed me a hot towel.
I crawled off the bed and wiped my behind.
“I can’t teach you to beat your fate.” The Mistress refilled the pipe with dry leaves and lit it. She made a sucking sound as she inhaled the smoke. “Because you can’t. But it helps a great deal if you have an understanding of men as creatures. You must come to see why ‘Roses in one’s own backyard don’t smell as good as roses in the wild.’”
“Go on, madam, please,” I said.
“You are a pretty girl, all right, but when the lamp is out, a beautiful girl or a beast of a girl—it makes no difference to a man. Over the years I have seen so many men abandon their good-looking wives for ugly concubines, and then abandon the concubines for uglier prostitutes.”
“How can a woman make a difference?”
“I told you, it is the mind’s game. The truth is that men need encouragement no matter how strong they appear to be,” the Mistress said.
Looking at an erotic painting in which a man gazed intently at a woman’s breasts, the Mistress continued. “Be blind about his looks and habits. Try to ignore his manners as well. Be prepared: he may have the features of a panda, the smell of a barn, his sun instrument may be small like a walnut, or too large like a daikon instead of a carrot. He might demand hours of service before reaching satisfaction. You must concentrate on the music inside of his head. You must keep the pot boiling. You must remember the paintings in my house. They will help to create the magic. Look at this gentleman, holding his lady’s breasts like they are sweet peaches. Praise him with your noises. No actual words. Just the sounds. Wipe it on him like honey. Make flavors. Turn uhn into woo and back. Let him know he’s fantastic.”
“Doesn’t he already know? Doesn’t my willingness tell him so? I would have told him a thousand times by the time I am in bed with him, wouldn’t I?”
“You will be surprised, young lady.”
“How is that?”
“You haven’t spoken with your bottom lips, have you?”
“Oh, that’s right.”
“Put your skill to use!”
“Yes, of course.” My embarrassment turned into amusement.
“You might end up pleasing yourself too.” The Mistress smiled.
“What if …” I paused, because I didn’t know if I could make my question comprehensible. I decided to ask anyway. “What if he doesn’t like what I do?”
“There is no such thing. Men like it,” the Mistress said confidently. “But timing counts a great deal, and of course the condition of his health too.”
“What if I don’t like him?”
“Didn’t I already tell you? Pay attention to just the business. You are not after him, but his pockets.”
“What if he insults me and tells me to leave his bed? What if I fail to hide my feelings of disgust?”
“Listen, this business is not about how one feels. It never was, is or will be. Such is the fate of a woman. You’ve got to make a dish with whatever you’ve got in the kitchen. You can’t dream only about the fresh vegetables in the market!”
“How can I pretend to be excited when I am not?”
“Fake it! It is a son-of-a-dog act! The worst part is, by the time you reach perfection, you are too old. Youth evaporates like dew, born in the morning and dead in the afternoon.”
The Mistress threw herself into a chair. Her chest pumped as if she had just been revived after nearly drowning.
The two girls sat by themselves and remained stone-faced.
I put my clothes back on and got ready to leave.
“One last thing,” the Mistress uttered from the chair. “Don’t ever voice your disappointment, no matter how hurt or angry you are. Don’t try to argue with him.”
“I don’t even know if there will be a conversation.”
“Some men like to chat afterwards.”
“Well, as long as he is interested, I intend to continue my act.”
“Good.”
“I also would like to—I mean, if the situation permits—ask him questions. Can I?”
“Be sure to ask dumb questions.”
“Dumb questions? Why?”
“Without exception, a woman who tries to show that she’s got a brain gets abandoned.”
“Why?”
“Why? Men hate to be challenged. It’s simply demeaning to them.”
“So I should act dumb?”
“You’ll be doing yourself a favor.”
“But …” I couldn’t imagine myself acting dumb on purpose. “It is not part of my nature.”
“Make it yours!” The Mistress stared at me with wide eyes. Her skin was bleached out by the light and became pale, almost bluish.
“Thank you, madam,” I said.
Taking out the hairpin from her inner pocket, she wiped it with her sleeve. “We are talking about survival. Like I said, I want to be worthy of your hairpin.”
“It was a good lesson.” I bowed lightly. “Goodbye and thanks.”
The Mistress licked the hairpin with her tongue. “What kind of man are you seeing, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“I wish I knew.” I walked toward the door and lifted the curtain.
Ten
PURPLE WISTERIA fell in cascades from the roof. Birds and crickets and other insects chirped in the b
ushes. The moment had come. Emperor Hsien Feng had summoned me.
To calm my excitement, I went to sit by the peony garden. The terraces were the most beautiful architectural ornament of my palace. The flowers of a deeper hue were planted near the shore of the pond. The blooms became lighter as the garden rose on the hillside, creating the illusion of a landscape fading away into the far distance. The view inspired me as an example of what one could achieve with what was offered in life.
At lunch I ordered my favorite food, Yang-chou noodles. An-te-hai and I celebrated my good luck. I wrote a poem entitled “Yang-chou Noodles.”
One leaf lands in the wok, the other dances in the air
Leaves grow out of the tip of the chef’s knife
One moment I see silver fish splash in white waves
Another moment willow leaves riding the east wind.
My official preparations took several hours. Eunuchs were sent from the Emperor’s palace to help. Together my eunuchs and ladies in waiting bathed and perfumed me. I was wrapped naked in a white silk cloth and carried by four eunuchs on a litter. I was on my way to His Majesty Emperor Hsien Feng’s bedchamber in the Hall of Spiritual Nurturing, three palaces south of the Palace of Concentrated Beauty, where I lived.
We passed the Palace of Grand Harmony and the Palace of Luminous Virtue and moved through the grand hallways of the Palace of Peace and Longevity. The temperature dropped as night fell, and I was cold under the thin cloth. An-te-hai had been thoughtful enough to bring an extra blanket, and he covered me with it.
The moment we arrived at His Majesty’s inner chambers, An-te-hai was ordered to retreat. Chief Eunuch Shim received me and quietly guided the litter bearers in. After a few turns I entered a room brightened with large red candles and wall-to-wall yellow silk curtains. In the middle of the room was His Majesty’s bed.
The eunuchs who had brought me departed and were replaced with a group of Hsien Feng’s eunuchs, dressed in fine yellow silk robes. They quickly pulled out embroidered sheets, blankets and comforters. After the bed was prepared they gently lifted me to the edge of its huge surface and then left the room.
Another group of eunuchs entered. They each held heated copper pots in their hands. They warmed the sheets and comforters with the pots. Then they unwrapped me. Laying me on the side of the bed nearest the wall, they covered me with warm sheets. From beginning to end, their faces remained expressionless. When their hands touched my body, it made me feel like just another pillow. When all was set, they let down the bed curtain and retreated.
The room was deadly quiet. The smell of incense grew strong. Through the curtain I observed the room, which was filled with works of calligraphy and paintings. The largest painting was of a Buddha crossing a river. The Buddha was painted in pure gold. He was a giant with a huge belly and he rode on a thin lotus leaf. He showed no concern over the possibility of sinking, for his eyes were fully closed and his mouth revealed a faint smile. In his hands was the famous jar of wisdom. To the right of the painting was a blue bookshelf stacked with books. Two floor-length lanterns decorated with calligraphy hung from the ceiling. Everything was carved and coated with gold. Images of dragons and cranes were repeated throughout the room. Panels on both sides of one of the windows read: Luck year in, year out and Peace with all matters. A qin, a seven-stringed instrument of polished wood, lay on a shelf behind the bed.
I was thirsty and realized that I had barely eaten that day. Lately I had been having trouble eating and sleeping. All my energy had gone into imagining what it would be like to sleep with His Majesty. I wondered how he would begin with me, which part of my body he would explore first, and if everything about me would please him enough. I wondered if he would compare me with other women. What would happen if he found that I was not to his taste? Would he order me to leave? Would he leave me?
Chief Eunuch Shim made it clear that once I was found unsuitable, the abandonment would be entirely my own responsibility. Recently, His Majesty was said to be prone to mood swings. An-te-hai heard from another eunuch that one evening the Emperor had summoned six concubines, one after the other, and all were found wanting. He kicked them out and told Shim that he never wanted to see the women again. The word “never” from the Son of Heaven carried great weight—they were removed from their palaces and banished to the deep end of the Forbidden City, where they would grow and carve yoo-hoo-loos for the rest of their lives.
Would the same happen to me tonight? What would or could I do if it did happen? I remembered Big Sister Fann telling me that His Majesty considered concubines to be dishes forced down his throat. The thought disturbed me so much that I failed to pray for Heaven’s blessing. I lay in the bed with my face to the wall. I was cold from head to toe.
The red candles produced a sweet jasmine scent. Exhaustion hung upon me like a heavy lid. Why add additional weight to a burden that was already heavy? The youth in my spirit rose. It called me a “walking stick made of ice.” I rebuked myself for creating my own frosty weather. Feel the sunlight! my youthful wisdom cried. Why betray your courage, Orchid? Since your father’s death there hadn’t been a path until you walked on the weeds!
I heard a man’s voice. It came from the right side of the connecting hall. It could be no one but His Majesty Emperor Hsien Feng.
My fear intensified. The voice sounded unpleasant, as if His Majesty was arguing with someone. The words were strained and the mood dark. There was a moment of silence, and then the voice cursed, “Imperial sewage grease!”
I heard approaching steps. I covered myself with blankets and pillows, trying to gather the courage to greet my husband for the first time. It had been weeks since I last saw him. Honestly, I couldn’t recall his features. Chief Eunuch Shim had instructed me not to greet my husband. My nakedness only increased my nervousness. My nightgown lay on a stool next to the bed. Beside it was His Majesty’s blue silk gown, which he would change into for the night.
“No! Who do they think I am? Go to hell! I won’t permit it!” The man I was now sure was Emperor Hsien Feng shouted from the other room. “… Well, if they hadn’t come with troops. What have the British and the French done? They have forced me to pay eight hundred thousand taels more than I was already required to pay. Now they want me to open Tientsin. Tientsin is the gate of Peking, for heaven’s sake! They are strangling me with a rope … What do they mean by amending the treaty? It’s a savage’s excuse! I have already opened ports in Canton, Shanghai, Foochow and Taiwan. I don’t have any more to open …”
Gradually his voice grew weak. He broke down. He was crying. “I am so ashamed … China’s dignity has been sacrificed. I have no face to go to the altar anymore. Why can’t you do something? Sleep has become impossible. I have been drinking, yes. How else am I to escape my nightmares! What do you mean, it was up to me?”
There was a pause, followed by the sound of porcelain crashing.
The north wind whistled outside the windows. After a long silence I heard Hsien Feng blow his nose. Then came the sound of shuffling feet. I saw the shadow of His Majesty approach the bed curtain and pulled the comforter over my head. He sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed deeply as he took off his robe.
“Tea, Your Majesty?” Chief Eunuch Shim’s voice came from the hall-way.
“I’ll drink my own piss!” was His Majesty’s reply.
“We wish Your Majesty an excellent night!”
The footsteps in the courtyard receded.
I was not sure whether Emperor Hsien Feng knew that I was in his bed. I certainly didn’t want to surprise him. Should I make some noise to let him know that he was not alone?
His Majesty kicked off his boots and tossed aside his belt with its pendant beads and charms. He was in a white shirt. His black braid coiled around his neck like a snake. Without changing into his night-gown, he slid into bed and leaned against a pillow.
He turned his head and our eyes met.
There was not the slightest hint of surprise in him. Hav
ing a girl in his bed was like having an extra comforter. I saw no flicker of interest in his large slanted eyes. He was as handsome as I now began to remember him from our first encounter—a shaved chin, a straight Manchu nose and a boat-shaped mouth with firm lips. I had never seen a man with such perfect features and delicate skin.
We continued to stare at each other and I could feel my blood pumping in my veins.
“May His Majesty live for many many years and may your descen-dants be counted in the hundreds.” I recited what I had been instructed to say.
“Another parrot!” He turned away and rubbed his face with both of his hands. “Parrots all trained by the same eunuch … You all bore me to death.”
“Your Majesty …”
“Don’t dare get near me!”
What should I do? My chance had been ruined before I could begin. My tears welled up. I was afraid to move.
The man lying next to me was absorbed by his own thoughts, and I could sense nothing but tremendous pain and anger in him.
I decided to quit thinking about attracting him. What could a single move of a chess piece do if the game had already been lost? For the past nine days I had stayed up every night practicing the fan dance. I had also taken lessons from An-te-hai on playing the qin. I had managed to learn enough to accompany myself in a few songs. My voice was not that of a nightingale, but it was naturally pleasant and sweet. I never lacked confidence in my voice. If my parents had allowed, I would have pursued a life in opera. When I was about ten, a singer who performed in my house told me that I had potential if I was willing to work hard.
What would I tell my father? How often had he said, “In order to get cubs, one must be daring and enter the tiger’s cave”? I was inside the cave but there were no cubs. I remembered another story he had told me. It was about a family of monkeys who tried to catch the moon’s reflection in the water. The monkeys gathered in a large tree and turned themselves into a long chain reaching from the tree to the water. The lowest monkey tried to scoop up the moon with a basket. It was an ingenious plan, but Father’s point was that certain things are simply impossible, and there is wisdom in accepting one’s limitations.