Anchee Min - Empress Orchid

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.