Shan Sa - Empress

He managed to follow me to the private washroom. He stood blocking the doorway and spoke: “Why are you hiding yourself? Why don’t you want to speak to me? If I have behaved tactlessly, please forgive me!”

I avoided his eyes and said: “Before, your Highness was a child, now he has become and man and is heir to the Empire. The Ancients say that a man and a woman should keep a respectful distance. I no longer wish to speak freely with your Highness. Let me go.”

“Talented One, you are so formal with me now! Why are you so cold and unkind? And I think of you every day. Here, look, I’ve been to the market to buy the quince jelly you like so much. Don’t you know that since Little Bull’s death you are the person dearest to me? Heavenlight, be kind, give me a smile. Tell me you’re not angry.”

Hearing him speaking like that, I thought I might have misinterpreted his intentions. I regretted being susceptible and ate the delicacy he had put in my hand.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

My conversations with Little Phoenix had lost all their spontaneity. Now that he was Supreme Son, he was careful about his clothes and makeup. His tunics were sumptuous garments gleaming with pearls and precious stones. His face, with its light dusting of powder, looked even more pure and delicate. The perfume he wore made my heart beat faster, and I often forgot what I wanted to say to him. Somewhere deep inside I felt a new kind of happiness. For the first time in that Forbidden City, someone was showing an interest in my life and my death. Little Phoenix said that, without me, he would never overcome his fears and his weakness; he did not know that, without him, I would be just one more unhappy soul among the ten thousand women growing a little older every day in the Inner Palace.

In the Eighteenth year of Pure Contemplation, the kingdom of Korea invaded the kingdom of Sinra on the peninsular. When the King of Sinra called for his help, the Emperor decided to set off on a campaign against our hereditary enemies, the Koreans. On the fourteenth day of the tenth moon, the ceremonial regiments, the imperial guards, the government, and the gynaeceum escorted the sovereign to the eastern capital, Luoyang, where an army of one hundred thousand warriors was to gather.

As the horses galloped on, I looked through the curtains of my carriage and could see troops maneuvering in a cloud of dust on the horizon. That night, the imperial bivouacs stretched out over the entire plain that was turned into an ocean of light by the countless camp fires.

One night, when I was taking out my topknot before the mirror, someone raised the curtain to my tent without asking to be announced. I recognized the heir, wrapped in a thick fur coat. Seeing him, Ruby and Emerald prostrated themselves and withdrew. I understood too late that they were accomplices to this reckless act. The heir was already sprawling on a cushion behind me. He was agitated and told me how he had stepped over drunken servants and slipped through the guards.

I begged him to leave. But he protested: “As I’ve been unable to flee my retinue during the daytime since we left the Capital, it is now half a moon since we have seen each other. Tonight, I decided to take a risk because I have come to tell you something important.”

I could see him in the mirror, still trying to catch my eye. I stood up, put on my coat, and made for the door. He caught the hem of my tunic.

“We are alone. My people are watching the door. No one knows I am here. Listen to me first, then I shall leave.”

“Well then, please, may your Highness move further away from me and sit down.”

Little Phoenix went and sat obediently in a corner. I sat facing him at the far side of the room. He looked at his hands on his knees and said nothing. I watched a candle spilling its tears, and I too was silent. Suddenly he looked up.

“Heavenlight, I am to have a second child.”

I was about to congratulate him when he said: “Those women don’t count. There is only one person who fills my days and nights,” he said, and then lowered his voice before adding, “she is not like all the women at Court: the bland, formal, calculating women. She is spontaneous as a horse, pure as a river, free as the air. I venerate her, and I fear her. I suffer when I think I cannot be one with her.”

He broke off. His eyes were like two dancing flames in the half darkness. Outside the North Wind blew, and one of the watchmen struck the gong. It was late. Then he suddenly started stammering: “I want to teach you what true pleasure is. I know that you would like the abandon, the excesses. I’ll be gentle with you, you’ll see. And you would slowly become a woman. You would be the most beautiful woman in the Empire!”

Tears came to my eyes, but my voice was hard: “Go, Highness. What your Highness is doing is improper.”

He stared at me for a moment, then stood up and slipped away.

LUOYANG, THE EASTERN capital. Along the avenues icicles hung from every roof, and the trees were covered with buds of frost. The River Luo was frozen, a long, winding sigh reaching up to the weary sky. In the Forbidden City, only the winter plum trees braved the cold with their subtle fragrance. I stayed in the pavilions with my hands inside my sleeves and my feet up against bronze heaters, and I learned news of the outside world from the eunuchs. It seemed that regiments had come from the four corners of the Empire and had set up camp beside the town. Their garrisons had turned the countryside into an ocean of banners and horses. Accompanied by the heir, the Emperor would climb to the highest point of the Southern Gate and take command of the soldiers’ training sessions.

At the beginning of January, the peripatetic monk Xuan Zang returned, and this delayed our armies’ departure. After covering tens of thousands of lis and living for seventeen years traveling the western kingdoms, he came back to the eastern capital laden with sacred manuscripts gathered in the land of Buddha. The Emperor received him during his audience, covered him with gifts, and appointed him master monk at the Temple of Immense Felicity. The Precious Wife invited Xuan Zang to the Inner Court, and he stepped up onto a stage of lotus flowers where he gave a speech about the Buddha of the Future, Maitreya, who had promised to be reincarnated on Earth to guide millions of believers toward eternal peace.

But the Emperor and his generals were more interested in the victories of this world. The sovereign was already armed with his golden breastplate threaded with red laces and was leaving Luoyang by the Southern Gate. Three thousand musicians played the tune of the Glorious Departure. Lances, axes, and tridents gleamed; horses and carts whipped up dust that swirled for days without settling.

In the sovereign’s absence, the heir took over regency from his Eastern Palace, and entry to our gynaeceum was forbidden to men. News of the war reached us through screens and partitions. Our squadrons had wound their way up the coast and reached Korea. The city of Peisha fell, and eight thousand Koreans were taken prisoner. The troops of my benefactor, Great General Li Ji, crossed the River Liao and laid siege to a port. The army commanded by the sovereign had met with more grim resistance. The Koreans were brutal warriors and adept archers, and they defended their territories with all the energy of despair.

Neither the war cries nor the smell of blood breached the high walls of the Forbidden City. Spring came back to Luoyang. Court ladies set out in little groups to enjoy picnics by the banks of the river. Peach trees scattered their petals, and carefree peonies rustled in the wind. In the master’s absence, the jealousies and intrigues had stopped, but the favorites began to tire of this peaceful, untroubled existence. I missed Little Phoenix. This separation meant he was with me with every breath I took. Women no longer satisfied my soul’s desire, and their constant, insistent attentions only made me more obsessed with my absent brother.