Anchee Min - Empress Orchid

Our rumor also said that Emperor Hsien Feng knew that the seal had been lost before he died, and he was too gentle-hearted to punish us. In order to protect us His Majesty hadn’t mentioned the disappearance to Su Shun.

As we had expected, Liu Jen-shou took little time in passing the rumor to Su Shun’s very ear. The story made sense to Su Shun, as no one could remember seeing the prized seal since leaving Peking.

Su Shun didn’t wait to make his move. He immediately requested an audience with us, which was attended by the entire court. He declared that he had just finished drafting a new decree addressing the nation regarding the moving of the coffin, and he needed to use the Hsien Feng seal.

Pretending to be nervous, I took out my handkerchief and wiped my forehead. “Our double seals are as good as the Hsien Feng seal,” I said in a small voice.

Su Shun was clearly pleased. The lines on his face danced and his veins stood out with excitement. “Where is the Hsien Feng seal?” he demanded.

With the excuse that I was suddenly feeling ill, Nuharoo and I requested that the audience be brought to an end.

Su Shun pressed onward. He kept at me until I confessed that An-te-hai had lost the seal.

An-te-hai was arrested and dragged out by the guards as he screamed for forgiveness. He was taken out for punishment-one hundred lashes.

I was afraid that An-te-hai wouldn’t be able to bear the suffering. Fortunately, the eunuch was meant to live-he truly had friends everywhere. Later, when he was brought back by Su Shun’s guards, his robe was in shreds and matted with blood.

I was aware that Su Shun was observing me, so I not only made myself look unmoved, but also said in a cold voice, “The eunuch deserved it.”

Water was poured over An-te-hai’s face and he came to. In front of the court, Nuharoo and I ordered An-te-hai to be thrown into the Imperial prison in Peking.

Su Shun didn’t want to let An-te-hai out of his sight, but Nuharoo and I insisted that we must rid ourselves of the ungrateful creature. When Su Shun protested, we argued that we had the right to punish our own house eunuch without restriction. We went to the back of the hall, to Hsien Feng’s coffin, and wept loudly.

Pressed by the senior clansmen to leave us alone, Su Shun relented. But he insisted that his men escort An-te-hai to Peking.

We agreed, and An-te-hai was on his way. Hidden between layers of An-te-hai’s shoes was the decree I had written.

In Peking, Su Shun’s men turned An-te-hai over to the minister of Imperial justice, Pao Yun, along with Su Shun’s secret message-I learned of this later-that An-te-hai be beaten to death. Unaware of the situation, Pao Yun prepared to carry out Su Shun’s order. But before the whips went to work, An-te-hai requested a private moment with the minister.

An-te-hai took out my decree from its hiding place.

Pao Yun was dumbfounded. Without delay he contacted Prince Kung.

Upon reading my decree, Prince Kung gathered his advisors. They listened to An-te-hai’s report on the situation in Jehol and discussed a course of action long into the night. The conclusion was unanimous: overthrow Su Shun.

Prince Kung understood that if he hesitated in helping Nuharoo and me, power could quickly fall into Su Shun’s hands. There would be no recovering from such a loss, since he and Prince Ch’un had been excluded from Emperor Hsien Feng’s will.

The first step Prince Kung took was to select someone to present his idea to the court in the most legal and logical way. Kung turned to the head of Imperial personnel. He asked the man to come up with a proposal suggesting that Nuharoo and I be named executive regents-the only regents-of Tung Chih, replacing Su Shun, and that we run the court with Prince Kung.

After the proposal had been completed, a trusted local official was chosen to submit it. The intent was to create the impression that the idea had come from the grassroots level, which would make it difficult for Su Shun to throw it out without a review. By using this method, the proposal would also make the rounds and be reviewed by every governor in China before it reached its final destination, Su Shun’s office.

On September 25, draped from head to toe in the white cotton of mourning, Prince Kung arrived in Jehol. He headed directly to the coffin room, where he was blocked by guards and told to wait until Su Shun arrived. When Su Shun appeared-this was reported to me later-behind him stood the rest of the Gang of Eight.

Before Prince Kung had a chance to open his mouth, Su Shun ordered his arrest. The charge was disobeying the decree.

“I am here because a new decree has summoned me,” Prince Kung calmly explained.

“Really? Present it, then.” Su Shun smiled contemptuously.

“Without our drafting it, how could there be a decree?” one of the gang said.

From his inner pocket Prince Kung took out the decree An-te-hai had delivered.

The little yellow silk scroll with both Nuharoo’s and my seals rattled Su Shun and his men. They must all have been silently asking one question: How did this get out?

Without another word, Prince Kung pushed through the gang and marched in.

At the sight of the coffin Prince Kung lost his composure. He banged his head on the ground and cried like a child. No one had seen anyone so heartbroken in front of the dead Emperor. Kung wailed that he couldn’t understand why Hsien Feng had not given him a chance to say goodbye.

Tears streamed down his cheeks. He must have wished that his brother could see the mistake he had made. Prince Kung knew what Nuharoo and I did not, that Su Shun had already failed in his first attempt to overthrow Tung Chih on the day of his ascension. The grand councilor had sent Chiao Yu-yin, a member of the Gang of Eight, to contact General Sheng Pao and General Tseng Kuo-fan for military support. When Chiao accidentally leaked the information, Su Shun denied everything and secretly canceled the plot.

I caked my cheeks with powder and then slipped into a mourning gown. I noticed that Nuharoo’s face had grown puffy. Her usually glowing skin had become a dull, dead white. Her tears had drawn two wiggly lines under her eyes.

We were ready to meet Prince Kung, but learned that he couldn’t pass Chief Eunuch Shim, who quoted the household law that it was improper for Imperial widows to be seen by a prince of the same age during the time of mourning.

Prince Kung threw himself on the floor and begged Su Shun to be allowed to meet his nephew Tung Chih.

I suggested to Nuharoo that we go to the coffin room. We dressed Tung Chih and went there. Behind a wall panel we were able to hear the voices of Su Shun and Prince Kung. Su Shun insisted that he was acting on Emperor Hsien Feng’s behalf.

The frustrated prince cursed. “The one who thinks of himself as having the wind at his back and moonlight in his sleeves is nothing but a mite-infested wooden puppet.”

I worried about Prince Kung’s temper. If he angered Su Shun further, Su Shun could accuse him of interfering with the execution of the Imperial will.

“This is about my birthright, Su Shun!” Prince Kung yelled.

Su Shun laughed. He knew his advantage and took his time. “No, this is not about what you are entitled to, Prince Kung. It is about the justification of the most powerful. Emperor Hsien Feng’s will leaves the nation with the impression that you are a weak hen who produces soft-shelled eggs. I don’t know what is lacking in you, but the defect is clear.”

The court laughed with Su Shun. A few of the senior clansmen stamped their feet on the floor.

“Imagine the soft-shelled egg,” Su Shun continued. “A yellow yolk wrapped in a paper-thin white shell. Oh, it is leaking. Can’t sell it and can’t keep it. We have to eat it as family members.”