Anchee Min - Empress Orchid

“Yet your heart refuses to protect itself.”

“Can one be protected from love?”

“The truth is that you can’t stop caring for Yung Lu.”

“There must be different ways to love.”

“He has you in his heart as well, my lady.”

“Heaven pity him.”

“Have you ways to comfort yourself?” An-te-hai asked.

“I am thinking about inviting myself to be his matchmaker.”

The eunuch looked shocked. “You are crazy, my lady.”

“There is no other way.”

“What about your heart, my lady? Do you want to bleed to death? If I could get rich by collecting your tears from the floor, my wealth would surpass Tseng Kuo-fan’s!”

“My desire will quit once he’s taken. I’ll force myself. By helping him I shall help myself.”

An-te-hai lowered his head. “You need him too much to…”

“I shall…” I couldn’t find a phrase to end my sentence.

“Have you ever thought of what to do if he comes, let’s say tonight, at midnight, for example?” the eunuch said after a moment of silence.

“What are you saying?”

“Knowing what your heart wants, my lady, knowing that it is safe, that we are not inside the Forbidden City, I might give in to temptation-that is to say, I might invite him here.”

“No! You will not.”

“If I can control myself, my lady. If I don’t love you enough.”

“Promise me, An-te-hai. Promise that you will not do that!”

“Hit me, then. Because it is my desire to see you smile again. You may think me crazy, but I must express myself. I want your love to take place as badly as I want to restore my manhood. I could not possibly let such a chance pass by.”

I paced back and forth inside the tent. I knew An-te-hai was right and that I needed to do something before the situation overtook me. It was not hard to see what my passion for Yung Lu would lead to-the defeat of my dream for Tung Chih.

I called Li Lien-ying. “Get hold of entertainers from a local teahouse,” I said.

“Yes, my lady, right away.”

“The midnight dancers.” An-te-hai said, making sure his disciple understood what I meant.

Li Lien-ying kowtowed. “I know a good place about a quarter of a mile away, the Peach Village.”

“Send three of their best girls to Yung Lu immediately,” I said, and then added, “Say that they are gifts from me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The eunuch left.

I lifted the curtain and watched Li Lien-ying vanish into the night. I felt an unbearable heaviness crushing down on me. My stomach felt as if it was filling up with stone. There was nothing left of the girl who had come to Peking in the dull light of a summer morning ten years before. She was naïve, trusting and curious. She was full of youth and warm emotions, and ready to try life. The years inside the Forbidden City had formed a shell over her and the shell had hardened. Historians would describe her as cruel and heartless. Her iron will was said to have carried her through one crisis after another.

When I turned back, An-te-hai was looking at me with a bewildered expression on his face.

“I am just like everyone else,” I said. “There was no place left where I could take refuge.”

“You did the impossible, my lady.”

There was no wind the next day. The sun’s rays filtered through thin clouds. I rode in the palanquin and my thoughts were calmer. I believed that I could now think of Yung Lu in a different way. I felt less stifled. My heart accepted what had been done and rose gradually from the ruins. For the first time in a very long while I felt a surge of hope. I would become a woman who had experienced the worst and so had nothing else to fear.

My heart, however, stubbornly cherished the old, as became clear when I heard the sound of hooves next to my chair. Instantly, my mind touched the familiar madness, crippling my will.

“Good morning, Your Majesty!” It was his voice.

Excitement and pleasure paralyzed me. My hand went as if on its own to lift the curtain. His face was in the frame. He was in his magnificent ceremonial uniform and sat tall on his horse.

“I enjoyed your gifts,” he said. “It was very thoughtful of you.” He looked darker. His lips were dry and his eyes unsmiling.

I was determined to conquer my emotion, so I said, “I’m glad.”

“Do you expect me to say that I understand your sacrifice and am grateful?”

I wanted to say no, but my lips would not move.

“You are cruel,” he said.

I knew that if I relented, even a little bit, it wouldn’t be long before I lost control.

“Time for you to go back to your duty.” I let down the curtain.

With the fading sound of his horse’s hooves, I wept.

Nuharoo’s words came to me, “Pain does good things. It prepares us for peace.”

We were at Hsien Feng’s tomb the next dawn. I waited three hours until the moment arrived to move the coffin into place. I was served porridge for breakfast. Then three monks swung their incense burners and walked in circles around me. The thick smoke choked me. Drums and music played and the wind distorted the sound. The landscape was bare and vast.

The bearers pushed the coffin with their shoulders inch by inch toward the tomb. I sat on my knees and prayed for Hsien Feng’s spirit to gain peace in his next life. Two hundred Taoist monks, two hundred Tibetan lamas and two hundred Buddhists chanted. Their voices were strangely harmonious. I remained in a kneeling position before the altar until the others had completed their final farewells to Emperor Hsien Feng. I knew I should not resent An-te-hai, who was beside me telling me step by step what to do, but I still wished he would shut up.

I was to be the last one and would be alone with His Majesty before the tomb closed permanently.

The head architect reminded the ministers to keep their timing exact. The calculations demanded that the tomb be shut at noon, when the sun cast no shadow. “Otherwise, vital heavenly energy will begin to seep out.”

I waited my turn while watching people going in and out of the tomb. My knees started to feel sore and I missed Tung Chih terribly. I wondered what he was doing and if Nuharoo’s mood had changed. She was beside herself the day she found out that all her roses were dead-the barbarians had dug out the root balls in their search for “buried treasure.” The bones of her favorite parrot, Master Oh-me-to-fu, were also found in the garden. The bird was the only creature of its kind that could chant the Buddhist drill Oh-me-to-fu .

My thoughts went to Rong. I was not sure that talking with her would help her cope with the death of her son. Rong frightened too easily, and I wouldn’t blame her for thinking that the Forbidden City was a terrible place to raise children. I could only pray that the new pregnancy would provide her with hope.

An-te-hai had been acting oddly today. He carried a big cotton sack with him. When I asked what was inside, he said it was his overcoat. I couldn’t understand why he insisted on bringing an overcoat when nothing but blue sky stretched from horizon to horizon.

People leaving the tomb surrounded me. They lined up to pay their respects to me, bowing and kowtowing. Each took minutes to complete the forehead-knocks on the ground. A couple of senior ministers were nearly blind and had difficulty walking. They wouldn’t accept my pardon and insisted on performing the entire protocol. No one asked if I was tired or hungry.

The temperature began to rise. My hands and body felt warm. Everyone seemed to have had enough and was eager to go back. Yet etiquette could not be ignored. The line of people before me continued to grow. It stretched from the entrance gate to the stone pavilion. I looked from the corner of my eye and saw that the bearers were sharing a joke and the guards looked bored. The horses kicked their hooves. The desert wind sent eerie whistles from afar. By the time the sun was above our heads, many ministers relaxed their manners and loosened their collar buttons. They sat on the ground waiting for the tomb to be shut.