Empress Orchid - Anchee Min [105]
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.