Arturo Serrano - To Climates Unknown - An Alternate History of a World Without America

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said to Tsunenaga, once they were beyond earshot of the Emperor’s palace.

“He was in a generous mood. I wanted to do something for you.”

Her hands grasped each other to avoid hitting him. “You don’t have to do anything for me.” She wanted to yell, but remembered not to. “Actually, you can’t do anything for me. A decree won’t fix my feet.”

“Don’t you wish to spare other women from the binding?”

“The idea won’t be deemed acceptable if it’s presented by a foreigner. You could’ve gotten yourself executed!”

“I can’t believe I can’t do anything for you. Are you really done using me?”

A wave of shame fell upon her. He was so oblivious to what she aspired to use him for, and she hadn’t told him half of what hinged on the Emperor’s survival. She would have said more at that moment, but was interrupted by a guard who notified her that Noble Consort Zheng was asking to speak with her.

The rows of small palaces for royal concubines looked so similar it took her a while to figure out which one to enter. She could almost empathize with the way her enemy felt; after so many years as the center of the late Wanli’s affections, it had to be a blow to Zheng’s pride to find herself with no marks of distinction above his other lovers.

Once she found the correct building, she was led to the hall used for receptions. She found Lady Zheng sitting at one extreme of the room, her back curved in the way of old women, and Xiaobo shuddered as she considered her own future and how much longer she’d be able to pose as a man. Xiaobo greeted her and sat at a respectful distance, not sure of what would be discussed or how much danger she was in.

“Congratulations,” said Lady Zheng. “You won.”

So we’re jumping right into it, thought Xiaobo. With a polite smile, she retorted, “Now that the Emperor is safe, no one should think themselves the loser.”

“Liang, please. I’m tired of the way eunuchs twist the words to hide what they mean. Can we be direct for a change?”

“As you wish.”

“You say no one loses in this affair. Yet I’m the one being punished.”

“How? No harm has been done to you.”

Zheng put her hands on her knees and straightened her back, which looked painful. “I was denied the coronation of my son!”

“Since you’ve asked me to be direct, I’ll be direct: such talk is treason. What you were denied was something you had no right to claim. As I said, that’s no harm.”

“Traditions, traditions! Isn’t the title of Emperor worth anything? Shouldn’t his parting gift to his lover be honored?”

“That’s an argument he already had, many times, years ago, and lost. I see no point in you arguing it with me.”

“You… you have played well. I heard the Embroidered Guard received orders to reassign my father, and I refuse to believe Princess Rongchang had anything to do with it. You’re good at making everyone believe you’re so unimportant.”

“I serve the Great Ming.”

“Do you? Then why do you lie to the Emperor’s face?”

Xiaobo felt her insides twist in pain. “When have I ever—”

“I still have people near the Emperor, you see. And some of them understand Japanese.”

Tsunenaga. I should have let him doom himself. “I admit that I did the ambassador a favor. A barbarian who can’t appreciate the elegance of Chinese women has no business dictating how they should look.”

“A perfectly believable excuse. Well done. But that’s not all you did.”

“I merely restated the point he had already made.”

“No, Ma Liang. You added to it. Surely you’re aware of how obvious your surname is. Ma is all but the mark of Muslims.”

“What’s your point?”

“Don’t be afraid. We all seek our ways to utilize the Emperor to get things done. Didn’t you hear me a minute ago? I said congratulations.”

“What did you call me for, Lady Zheng?”

“I was hoping you would understand the way things look from my point of view. I’m only hated because Wanli loved me instead of another.”

“No, you’re hated because you plotted to have the rightful heir murdered. Twice.”

“Was any other avenue open to me? Should I embrace a quiet and chaste old age, as does every respectable woman? You know how unfair that is. In these times, life is a game that a widow cannot win. You ought to know.”

Xiaobo tried to show no reaction, but Zheng didn’t seem to need one.

“May I tell you a story? As it happens, I grew up not far from here.” Indeed, every member of the spy agency knew perfectly that Zheng came from the neighborhood of Daxing, but Xiaobo said nothing. She could tell the story would have a dangerous ending. “When I was a little girl, I met a very old spinster who made a living from weaving baskets. She wasn’t really a neighbor; she was more of a traveling saleswoman. Every week she’d pass in front of our house carrying her baskets. She had a funny way of walking, not exactly like a woman with bound feet, but still distinctive. One day, I mustered enough courage to stop her in the street and ask her directly why she walked that way. She looked at my feet, saw that they were already bound, and out of some deep sense of pity, she agreed to reveal her secret to me. As it turned out, she was the only child of a somewhat distinguished family that had fallen into hard times, and marrying her off would have been their only salvation from misery. She’d been betrothed three times, and for various reasons, the wedding was always canceled. Mostly it had to do with her family’s declining good name. The point is she never found a candidate again. No one wanted to be her fourth suitor, because ignorant people believe it’s bad luck to be the fourth anything, so she ended up unmarriageable and on the point of starving. When her parents died, she knew she’d have to support herself, and the first thing she had to do was to fix those useless feet. Can you imagine? I have to admire what she did to give herself a new life. It’s bad enough to be bound; it’s a pain none of us would have chosen willingly. But she, having already known that pain, decided to go through it again. She broke delicate bones that had taken years to heal from the first breaking and forced her feet back to their true size. Of course, a foot that has been bound and unbound isn’t much use either; she showed me what flabby pieces of meat result from the attempt. But that didn’t stop her, because she knew, as every woman knows, that once marriage is off the table, life will never be kind to us again.”

Xiaobo didn’t know what to do or what to say to pretend Zheng’s words didn’t directly relate to her. Since she’d created her disguise, her survival strategy had been to not even think of her womanhood. She’d become used to living with the hope that the truth would never be found if she taught herself to ignore it.

“Ever since you arrived in the capital, my people have informed me of the curious way you walk. It’s not like the gait of a bound woman, of course; you no longer bend your knees the way we do. But the way that basket weaver walked is unforgettable to me. Since I hadn’t yet seen you in person, I still had my doubts, but they vanished this morning, when one of my servants ran from the Hall of Mental Cultivation to tell me you’d just blocked an attempt to ban foot binding.”

“What does that have to do with whatever it is you’re imagining about me?”

“Tell me: how was your meal with the Emperor? Did you enjoy the seasoning?”

This time, Xiaobo’s reaction was evident. She’d paid little attention to the food because her mind had been too occupied considering the possible repercussions of Tsunenaga’s blunder, but she still remembered how curious it had tasted.