Empress Orchid Page 9
“How would I confirm this?”
“Test me, my lady. You will find out.”
“How many years has it been since you entered the Forbidden City?”
“Four years.”
“What have you achieved?”
“A belief, my lady.”
“A belief?”
“It is that the big melon I carry between my shoulders is a tough one. I have equipped myself with knowledge of Imperial society. I know the names of the builders of the Forbidden City, the Summer Palace and the Grand Round Garden. I know their locations even on the astrological map. I can explain why there are no trees planted between the Palaces of Supreme Harmony, Central Harmony and Preserving Harmony.”
“Keep going, An-te-hai.”
“Concubines of Emperor Hsien Feng’s father and grandfather are my friends. They live in the Palace of Benevolent Tranquility. I know each of their stories and their relationship to His Majesty. I can tell you how the palace gets its heat in the winter and how it stays cool in the summer. I can tell you where your drinking water is from. I am familiar with the Forbidden City’s murders and ghosts, the stories behind the mysterious outbreaks of fire and sudden disappearances of people. I know the sentinels at the gates, and I am a personal friend of many of the guards, which means that I can go in and out of the palaces like a cat.”
I tried not to show that I was impressed.
He told me that Emperor Hsien Feng had two beds in his bedroom. Each night, both beds were made and the curtains drawn so no one would know in which bed His Majesty lay. An-te-hai let me know that his knowledge extended beyond the Imperial household, to the outer court and the functioning of the government. His secret for gaining information was to lead everyone to believe that he was harmless.
“So you are a natural spy.”
“For you, my lady, I’m willing to be anything.”
“How old are you exactly?”
“I’ll be sixteen in a few months.”
“What is the truth behind this proposal, An-te-hai?”
The eunuch paused for a moment and then answered, “I want a chance. I have been looking for a worthy master for a long time. As a eunuch, I understand that I ought not to think about my future, because there isn’t any. But I don’t want to live in hell for the rest of my life. All I am asking, my lady, is to be given an opportunity to prove my loyalty.”
“Rise,” I said. “Leave me now, An-te-hai.”
He rose and quietly stepped back toward the door.
I noticed that he was limping a bit, and I remembered that he was the one Chief Eunuch Shim had kicked in the courtyard.
“Wait,” I called. “From now on, An-te-hai, you’ll be my first attendant.”
I changed into a beige robe before I was ushered to my eating chair. My dining table was as big as my gate. The carvings on its surface and legs were remarkable. As I was waiting to be served, I learned the names of my eunuchs and ladies in waiting.
My eunuchs had unique names. They were Ho-tung, River of the East; Ho-nan, River of the South; Ho-tz’u, River of the West; Ho-pei, River of the North; Ho-yuan, Riverhead; and Ho-wei, River End. Although their names began with ho, which meant “river,” they were by no means related. The names of several of my ladies in waiting began with chun, meaning “spring.” They were Chun-cheng, Spring Dawn; Chun-hsia, Spring Sunset; Chun-yueh, Spring Moon; Chun-meng, Spring Dream. All of them were reasonably good-looking and clean. They answered my calls promptly and demonstrated no particular characteristics. Their hair was done in a uniform style. While the eunuchs wore queues, the ladies wore buns on the back of their heads. In my presence, they kept their hands by their thighs and their eyes fixed on the floor.
I sat at the giant table for so long, surrounded by eunuchs and ladies in waiting, that my stomach started grumbling. Dinner was still nowhere to be seen. I turned my attention to the hall. It was large and empty of warmth except for the opposite wall, where hung a painting depicting a village family. A lovely poem was written in its upper right corner.
The thatched roof is slanting low,
Beside the brook green grasses grow,
Who talks with a drunken southern voice so sweet?
A gray-haired man and wife in their retreat.
East of the brook their eldest son is hoeing weeds;
Their second son now makes a cage for hens he feeds.
I like their youngest son, who, having nothing to do,
Lies by the brook podding lotus seeds one by one.
Who had lived here before me? I wondered. She must have been one of the Imperial concubines of the late Emperor Tao Kuang. She must have loved paintings. The style was simple, refreshing. I marveled at the contrast between the grand setting and the humble image.
The painting reminded me of the warmth of my own family. I remembered when my sister, brother and I would gather at the dinner table to await our father’s arrival. I remembered a time when our father cracked a joke. When we all burst into laughter, rice sprayed out our mouths. Rong choked on her tofu soup, and my brother fell under the table and broke his ceramic bowl. My mother failed to maintain her composure. She too burst into laughter, calling her husband “a crooked beam that leads the house to fall.”
“Your dinner’s here, my lady.” An-te-hai’s voice woke me from the memory.
As if in fantasy, I saw a parade coming out of the kitchen. A line of eunuchs, each holding a steaming dish, moved gracefully toward me. The pots and terrines were covered with silver lids. Soon the table was full of dishes.
I counted the dishes. The number was ninety-nine!
Ninty-nine dishes just for me?
An-te-hai announced what I was served: “Stewed bear claws, vegetables mixed with deer liver, fried lobster with soybean sauce, snails with cucumbers and garlic, marinated quail roasted with sweet-and-sour sauce, shredded tiger meat wrapped in pancakes, deer blood with ginseng and herbs, crispy duck skin dipped in spicy onion sauce, pork, beef, chicken, seafood …”
There were dishes I had never seen or heard of.
The parade went on. My servants’ expressions told me that this was ordinary. I tried to hide my shock. After the plates were set down, I waved my hand. The servants retreated and stood quietly against the walls.
I felt awkward facing the monstrous table.
“We wish you a great meal!” my servants sang in one voice.
I lifted my chopsticks.
“Not yet, my lady.” An-te-hai rushed to my side.
The eunuch went around the table with a pair of chopsticks and a small plate. He picked pieces from every dish and stuffed them into his mouth.
As I watched An-te-hai chewing, I was reminded of the story Big Sister Fann had told me about Emperor Hsien Feng’s mother, Chu An, who attempted to poison Prince Kung. The thought took away my appetite.
“It’s safe to dine now.” An-te-hai wiped his mouth and stepped away from the table.
“Am I supposed to eat all this by myself?” I asked.
“You are not expected to, my lady. It is the court’s etiquette that you are served with ninety-nine dishes at each meal.”
“But it is a big waste!”
“No, you won’t waste a thing, my lady. You can always reward dishes to your attendants. The slaves are hungry, and they are never given enough to eat.”
“Will people mind?”
“No. They will feel honored.”
“Doesn’t the kitchen prepare food for you as well?”
“We eat what horses eat, only the amount is meager by comparison. Three yams a day is my share.”
I finished as much as I could. I heard the sound of my jaw crunching cucumbers, chewing bear tendons and sucking on pork ribs. The servants continued to look at their feet. I wondered again what was cooking inside their heads. As I became full, I put down my chopsticks and picked up my dessert, a sweet bun made of red beans and black sesame.
An-te-hai came near, as if he knew I had something to say.
“No, my lady, I am afraid not.”
“Are mistresses of other palaces being served the same way?”
“Yes, they are.”
“By the same kitchen?”
“No, by their own kitchens. Each palace has its own kitchen and chefs.”
“Please get a stool and come and keep me company while I am eating.”
An-te-hai obeyed.
When I picked up a cup, An-te-hai reached for the teapot on the far corner of the table. He filled my cup with chrysanthemum tea.
It didn’t take long for me to see that An-te-hai had a gift for anticipating my needs. Who was he? I wondered. What had caused a sweet and clever boy like him to become a eunuch? What was his family like? How had he grown up?
“My lady.” As I finished the last bite of the bun, An-te-hai leaned over. His voice was soft. “It might be a good idea for you to send a message to Emperor Hsien Feng and Empress Nuharoo to wish them a good dinner.”
“Wouldn’t Nuharoo want her time with Emperor Hsien Feng undisturbed?” I asked.
From An-te-hai’s silent response, I realized that I’d better follow his advice.
“It is not about sending a good wish,” An-te-hai explained after a beat. “It is to make an impression. It is to have your name appear on one of Emperor Hsien Feng’s bamboo message chips. It is to remind His Majesty of your existence. The other ladies in their palaces are doing the same.”
“How do you know?”
“I have sworn brothers who report to me from all the palaces.”
I rinsed my mouth with a cup of green tea. I was supposed to nap after a meal, but my mind wouldn’t relax. I visualized a battle in which every concubine was a soldier in disguise. According to An-te-hai, my rivals had already started to build defenses. Many of them had presented the Grand Empress with small but thoughtful gifts, thanking her for selecting them.
I hoped that Emperor Hsien Feng was a man of fairness. After all, he was called the wisest man in the universe. I would be satisfied if he would summon me once a month. I would never expect to have him all to myself. I would take pride in helping him build the dynasty, like the virtuous women displayed in the Imperial portrait gallery. Providing His Majesty with a harmonious home was an appealing idea. I would like to see the seven of us unite against the rest of the court-lady population. As the chosen wives I saw us respecting and helping one another in the interest of making the household a home for us all.
An-te-hai didn’t say that he disagreed with me. But I came to know his feelings by the way he knocked his head on the floor. If the sound of his knocking was tunk, tunk, tunk, which meant a slight disagreement, we would have a discussion. But if it was ponk, ponk, ponk, I’d better listen, because that meant I had no idea what I was talking about. This time the sound was ponk, ponk, ponk. An-te-hai tried to convince me that the ladies in the other palaces were my natural enemies. “It is like bugs to plants—they need to eat you to survive.” He suggested that I work on gaining the upper hand. “Somebody is thinking about strangling you at this very moment,” he said.
I could hardly move when the eunuchs came to clear the dinner table. My nap forgotten, the next thing I was expected to do was bathe. My tub was set three feet above the floor like a stage, with hot and cold water buckets and stacks of towels around it. The tub was so big it would be called a pond in my village. It was made of fine wood in the shape of a giant lotus leaf. The painting on the tub was beautiful. The details of the lotus flower were astonishingly vivid.
I wasn’t in the habit of bathing daily. In Wuhu I washed myself once every couple of months during the winter, and I swam in the lake in the summer. I asked An-te-hai if I could swim in the Imperial lake when the weather got warm.
“No,” the eunuch replied. “His Majesty wants his ladies’ bodies covered at all times.”
The ladies in waiting announced that the bath was ready.
An-te-hai told me that I had a choice of being bathed by either the eunuchs or the maids. Of course the maids, I said. It would be awkward to expose my body to eunuchs. By appearance they looked no different from ordinary men. I couldn’t imagine them touching my body. It would take me a while to get used to An-te-hai sleeping at the foot of my bed.
I wondered if An-te-hai had a man’s needs. He seemed to be indifferent during my changing. Was he pretending? If so, he must have great discipline. What I was beginning to like about him was that he managed to rise above his personal tragedy. Perhaps I spoiled my eunuchs, a weakness many considered evil. I couldn’t help but feel for their suffering. The truth was that I myself desired the same compassion.
Women in China dreamed about becoming me without knowing my suffering. By identifying with the eunuchs, I tended my heart’s wound. The eunuchs’ pain was written on their faces. They had been gelded and everyone understood their misfortune. But mine was hidden.
It felt funny to be held by so many hands. These people begged me not to lift a finger. If I were to help myself in any way, it would be considered an insult.
The water was warm and soothing. As I lay against the rim of the tub, the maids got down on their knees. Three of them threw their hands on me at the same time. They rubbed and scrubbed. I was supposed to enjoy this, but my mind kept seeing a hen being dipped in hot water and then her feathers being pulled off.
The maids’ hands moved up and down my body. Although they were gentle, my body suffered intrusion. I tried to remember what An-te-hai had told me, that I lived to please Emperor Hsien Feng, not myself. I wished that the Emperor could see this. I wondered when he would appear.
My body fermented like a steamed bun. The maids were sweating. They had been massaging my shoulders, fingers and toes. Their robes were wet, their hair messy. Just watching them tired me, and I couldn’t wait for this to end. An-te-hai had warned me that I was not to thank my maids. He emphasized that I was not to express my feelings. I must not remind people that I was as ordinary as they were.
After they patted me dry and dressed me in a red nightgown, the maids retreated. The eunuchs then wrapped me in warm blankets and ushered me back to my bedroom.
• • •
My palace was divided into three areas. The first was the living quarters, which included three large rooms with windows facing south. The rooms were connected in a rectangular shape. The middle room was a receiving hall, with a small-scale throne for my husband to sit on when he came. Behind the throne, against the wall stood an altar. Above the altar was a large Chinese landscape painting. The left chamber was called the western chamber. This was where I slept. There was a table with two chairs on the side by the window. Two green bamboo plants stood next to the chairs. On the right was the eastern chamber. This was my dressing room. It had a bed in it. I would sleep there if His Majesty decided to stay overnight. The rule stated that in order for him to have a proper sleep, he must not share a bed with any of his wives through the night. The bed in the eastern chamber was always prepared, cooled or warmed according to the season. Behind these chambers were my dining room, bathroom, sitting room and storage rooms.
The second part of my palace was the garden, which would become my favorite spot. It had natural meadows and creeks and also a tiny pond called the Heavenly Lake. I purposely let the water reeds grow wild in it because I liked to be reminded of Wuhu. I had always adored plants and was a passionate gardener. I filled my garden with nature’s splendor. Besides large flower-bearing trees like red silk-cotton and magnolia, I had bowl-sized peonies in every color imaginable. I also had deep red roses with purple hearts, hoof-shaped white lilies, firecolored mountain tea flowers and yellow winter plum flowers, which I called “leg-pullers.” Plum flowers had waxy petals and bloomed only on snowy days, as if they loved the cold. Their strong scent wafted into my bedroom in the morning when An-te-hai opened the window. They “pulled my legs” to the garden,
and I couldn’t help but admire their beauty while still in my pajamas. To prevent me from catching a cold on freezing days, An-te-hai would cut a branch of winter plum before I rose, or put a single flower in a vase by my breakfast table.
My taste in flowers was broad. I loved the elegant ones as well as those that I called “the small people.” I loved butterfly-shaped morning glories, tiger-faced purple ground cover. My expertise was in peonies and chrysanthemums. Although royal society considered chrysanthemums fit only for peasants, I grew them enthusiastically. I had every kind of chrysanthemum. “Golden Claws” was the one I prized the most. Its blossoms opened like dancers’ hands, holding the morning sunlight in their palms. No one had ever seen this variety anywhere else but in my garden. The plants shot up to my shoulders in late autumn, and I never tired of looking at them.
I visited my garden when I was unable to sleep at night. I came to listen to the sounds of my childhood. I could hear the fish talking in the water. I wandered around the bushes with my hands brushing the leaves and flowers. I loved to feel the dew on my fingertips.
Many years later a story was told about a eunuch who once witnessed a fairy in my garden at midnight. The “fairy” was probably me. There was a period during which I felt I was unable to go on living. It might have been one of those nights when I had been planning to end my life.
The third part of my palace was the compound on either side of the main chambers. This part was for my eunuchs, ladies in waiting and maids. Their windows faced the courtyard, which meant that if I walked toward the gate, they would notice immediately, and also see anyone who attempted to enter. The eunuchs patrolled my palace in shifts, so there was always someone awake.
An-te-hai was sound asleep on the floor. Chief Eunuch Shim had lied to me when he said that he gave me people who didn’t snore. An-te-hai snored like a burbling teapot. However things would change later on, after years of isolation, agony and fear, An-te-hai’s snoring became the song of Heaven to me. Without hearing it, I would be unable to sleep.