“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.
With a hundred pairs of eyes watching, Tung Chih had his first bath. He was getting more and more disturbed.
“Look, there is a dark spot under Tung Chih’s right armpit!” Nuharoo got up from her chair and ran to me. She had changed into her second gown for the occasion. “Is it an unlucky sign?”
“It’s a birthmark,” I told her. “I consulted Doctor Sun Pao-tien and he told me not to worry.”
“I wouldn’t trust Sun Pao-tien,” Nuharoo said. “I have never seen this kind of birthmark—it’s too big and too dark. I must consult my astrologer right away.” Turning to the tub, she admonished the maids, “Don’t try to stop Tung Chih from crying. Let him! He is supposed to feel uncomfortable. This is what the ceremony is about. The louder he cries, the better the chance he will grow up to be strong.”
I forced myself to walk away so I wouldn’t punch Nuharoo in the chest.
The wind blew. Pink petals rained from the trees. A couple of them landed in the tub. The maids picked up the petals and showed them to Tung Chih in an effort to quiet him. This picture of bathing under the magnolia tree would have been lovely if the baby were not in torment. I had no idea how long Tung Chih would have to sit in the water. I looked up at the sun and prayed that it would stay out.
“Clothing!” Chief Eunuch Shim sang stylishly. The maids quickly dried and dressed Tung Chih, who was so exhausted that he fell asleep in the middle of their handling. He looked like a rag doll. Yet the ceremony was far from completed. After the tub was emptied, the sleeping Tung Chih was put back in it. Several lamas dressed in sun-colored robes sat down in a circle around the baby and began chanting.
“Gifts!” Chief Eunuch Shim shouted.
With Emperor Hsien Feng leading, the guests came forward to offer tribute.
As each box of gifts was opened, Shim announced the contents. “From His Majesty, four gold ingots and two pieces of silver!”
Eunuchs removed the wrapping, revealing a carved box of red lacquer.
Chief Eunuch Shim moved on. “From Her Majesty Empress Nuharoo, eight pieces of gold and a silver ingot, eight good-luck ruyi, four pieces of gold and silver money, four cotton winter blankets, four cotton covers and sheets, four winter jackets, four winter pants, four pairs of socks and two pillows!”
The rest of the guests presented their gifts according to rank and generation. The tributes were more or less the same except in amount and quality. No one was supposed to top the first couple, and no one actually
used the gifts. Everything was packed up and sent to the Imperial storehouses in the name of Tung Chih.
The next day, I got up before dawn in order to spend time with my son. Then the ritual of Shih-san went on. Tung Chih again was soaked in the tub.
He had been sitting in the water for one hour and fifteen minutes. The sun was shining, but the May air was chilly. My son could easily catch a cold. Nobody seemed to care. After Tung Chih sneezed a couple of times, I told An-te-hai to bring out a tent to protect him from the breeze. But Nuharoo rejected the idea. She said that the tent would block Tung Chih’s luck. “The purpose of the bath is to expose Tung Chih to the magical powers of the universe.”
I refused to give in to her this time. “The tent will stay,” I insisted.
Nuharoo didn’t say anything. But when I went to use the chamber pot, the tent was removed. I knew I was crazy to think that Nuharoo’s intention was to drive my son to illness. But I couldn’t help dwelling on the idea.
Nuharoo said that we were not entitled to alter tradition. “From emperor to emperor, every heir has bathed in the same way.”
“But our ancestors were different people,” I argued. “They lived on horseback and went around half naked.” I reminded Nuharoo that Tung Chih’s father was a man of poor health and Tung Chih was underweight at birth.
Nuharoo was silenced but didn’t surrender.
Tung Chih started to sneeze.
No longer able to control myself, I went to the tub and pushed the maids away. I grabbed Tung Chih and ran inside.
The ceremonies and festivities went on and on. In the middle of it all a gardener discovered a fetish doll buried in my garden. On the doll’s chest were two black characters spelling out “Tung Chih.”
Emperor Hsien Feng summoned the wives and concubines—he wanted to solve the crime personally. I dressed and went to Lady Yun’s palace. I didn’t know why we had to meet there. I ran into Nuharoo on the way. She had come from another palace and had no idea what was going on either.
As we approached the palace we heard sounds of sobbing. We hurried into the hall and found an angry Emperor. Hsien Feng was in his sleeping gown, and next to him stood two eunuchs, each holding a whip. On the floor knelt numerous eunuchs and servants. Among them, in the first row, was Lady Yun. She was in a pink silk gown and had been the one sobbing.
“Quit crying,” Emperor Hsien Feng said. “As a noble lady, how could you lower yourself to this?”
“I didn’t do it, Your Majesty!” Lady Yun threw her head back to face him. “I was overjoyed by the birth of Tung Chih. I couldn’t celebrate enough. I will not close my eyes if I am hanged because of this!”
“Everyone in the Forbidden City recognizes your handwriting.” The Emperor raised his voice. “How could everyone be wrong?”
“My calligraphy is not a secret,” Lady Yun protested. “I am known for my art. It would be very easy for anyone to copy my style.”
“But one of your maids caught you making the doll.”
“It must be Dee. She made this up because she hates me.”
“Why does Dee hate you?”
Lady Yun turned around. Her eyes spotted Nuharoo. “Dee was given to me by Her Majesty Empress Nuharoo as a gift. I never wanted her. I punished her several times because she sniffed around—”
“Dee is only thirteen years old,” Nuharoo interrupted. “Accusing an innocent in order to cover your crime is shameful.” She turned to me as if for support. “Dee is known for her sweetness, isn’t she?”
Unprepared to respond, I lowered my head.
Nuharoo turned to Hsien Feng. “Your Majesty, may I have your permission to perform my duty?”
“Yes, my Empress.”
At this Lady Yun screamed, “All right, I will confess! I know exactly who set this up. It is an evil fox in a human’s skin. She was sent by the demon to destroy the Ch’ing Dynasty. But there is more than one fox in the Forbidden City. The evil fox has called in her pack. You,” she pointed at Nuharoo, “are one of them. And you,” she pointed at me, “too. Your Majesty, it is time to reward me with the white silk rope so that I will have the honor of hanging myself.”
This caused a brief commotion in the hall. The noise settled when Lady Yun spoke again.
“I want to die. My life has been hell. I have given you a princess,” she pointed at Emperor Hsien Feng, “and you treat her like a piece of rubbish. As soon as she turns thirteen, you will give her away. You will marry her off to a savage from the borderlands in order to make peace. You will sell your own daughter …”
Lady Yun broke down. Her two dimples were making a strange grin. “Don’t think I am deaf. I have been hearing you and your ministers talk about this. I have not been allowed to speak about my misery. But today, like it or not, you will hear all that I have to say. Of course I am jealous of the way Tung Chih is treated. Of course I cry for my daughter Jung’s misfortune, and I question Heaven why I was denied a son … Let me ask you, Hsien Feng, do you know when your daughter’s birthday is? Do you know how old she is? How long has it been since you last visited her? I bet you have no answers for any of my questions. Your heart has been chewed up by the foxes!”
Nuharoo took out her handkerchief and began to pat her face. “I am afraid that Lady Yun is leaving His Majesty with no choice.”
“Finish the business for me, Nuharoo.” Emperor Hsien Feng stood and walked out of the hall in his bare feet.
Lady Yun hanged herself that night. The news was brought to me by An-te-hai the next morning while I was having breakfast. My stomach turned upside down. For the rest of the day I could see Lady Yun’s face behind every door and in every window. I asked An-te-hai to stay nearby while I checked and rechecked Tung Chih’s cradle. I wondered about Lady Yun’s daughter, Princess Jung. I wished I could invite the girl to stay with me for a while and spend time with her half-brother. An-te-hai said that the toddler had been told that her mother had gone on a long journey. The eunuchs and servants were ordered to keep Lady Yun’s death a secret. The girl would find out about it in the cruelest way: she would learn of the death from gossip, from Lady Yun’s rivals, who wished to see the girl suffer.
Nuharoo came unannounced at midnight. Her eunuchs knocked on my gate so hard that they almost broke it down. Nuharoo threw herself on me when I greeted her. She looked ill and her voice choked. “She is after me!”
“Who is after you?” I asked.
“Lady Yun!”
“Wake up, Nuharoo. It must have been a nightmare.”
“She was standing by my bed in a greenish transparent dress,” Nuharoo sobbed. “There was blood all over her chest. Her neck was cut from the front, as if with an ax, and her head was hanging on her back, connected to her neck by only a thin piece of skin. I couldn’t see her face, but heard her voice. She said, ‘I was supposed to be hanged, not beheaded.’ She said that she was sent by the judge of the underworld to find a substitute. In order to come back for her next life, she had to make the substitute die the same way she did.”
I comforted Nuharoo, but was scared myself. She returned to her palace and devoured every ghost book she owned. A few days later she visited me and said that she had discovered something that I’d better know.
“The worst punishment for a female ghost is being dumped in the ‘Pool of Filthy Blood.’” Nuharoo showed me a book with lurid illustrations of the “Department of Scourging” at work in the underworld. Severed heads with long hair floated in a dark red pool—they looked like dumplings in boiling water.
“See this? This is what I wanted to talk to you about,” Nuharoo said. “The blood in the pool comes from the filth of all women. Also in the pool are poisonous snakes and scorpions that feed on the newly dead. They are the transformations of those who committed wrongdoings in their lives.”
“What if I commit no serious wrongdoing during my lifetime?” I asked.
“Orchid, the judgment of the underworld is for all women. That is why we need religion. Buddhism helps us
repent the crimes we commit simply by being women and living a material life. We need to forgo all earthly pleasure and pray for Heaven’s forgiveness. We must do everything we can to accumulate virtue. Only then may we have a chance of escaping the Pool of Filthy Blood.”
Sixteen
ON HIS FIRST BIRTHDAY my son would be presented with a tray filled with a variety of items. He was expected to pick one that would give the Imperial family a clue to his future character. This was called Chua-tsui-p’an, Catch the Future in a Pan. Important court members were invited to observe.
Tung Chih’s eunuchs had been busy all week in preparation for the event. The walls, columns, doors and window frames of my palace were freshly painted in vermilion. The beams and bracket sets were accented with blue, green and gold. Against the bright northern sky, the yellow tile roof glistened like a gigantic golden crown. The white marble terraces vibrated with their exuberant carvings.
The ceremony opened in the Hall of Bodily Mercy, in the east corner of the palace, where an altar had been set up. Above the altar was a broadside explaining the ritual. In the center of the hall sat a large square redwood table. On top of the table stood a tray the size of a mature lotus leaf, larger than a child’s tub. On the tray lay symbolic items: an Imperial seal, a book of Confucius’s On Autumn and Spring, a brush pen made of goat hair, a gold ingot, a silver ingot, a riddle, a decorative sword, a miniature liquor bottle, a golden key, ivory dice, a silver cigarette box, a musical clock, a leather whip, a blue ceramic bowl painted with landscapes, an antique fan with a poem written by a famous Ming poet, a green jade hairpin crafted with butterflies, an earring in the shape of a pagoda and a pink peony.
My son had been taken from me in the morning. This was to assure that he would act of his own free will. For the past few weeks I had tried hard to guide him to the “right choices.” I showed him a map of China, colorful landscape paintings, and of course the object he was supposed to pick, the Imperial seal—a fake one for the practice runs of course. An-te-hai had made it from a block of wood. I stamped the “seal” on different boards to attract Tung Chih’s attention. But he was more interested in the pins in my hair.