Empress Orchid - Anchee Min [112]
Emperor Hsien Feng had promised that I would be rewarded if Tung Chih delivered a “good performance.” How could I possibly direct him?
The more I read of the broadside above the altar, the more fearful I became.
… If the prince picks the Imperial seal, he will become an emperor graced by all of Heaven’s virtue. If he picks the brush pen, the gold, the silver or the sword, he shall rule with intelligence and a forceful will. But if he picks the flower, the earring or the hairpin, he will grow up to be a pleasure seeker. If he chooses the liquor pot, he will be an alcoholic; if the dice, he will gamble away the dynasty …
Tung Chih “studied” every article but picked up none. The hall was so quiet that I could hear the sound of water running through the garden. My sweat oozed and my collar felt tight.
Tung Chih stuck a finger in his mouth. He must be hungry! The chance that he would pick up the stone seal was fading.
He resumed his crawling. This time he appeared somehow motivated. The eunuchs put up their hands around the edges of the table to prevent Tung Chih from falling.
Emperor Hsien Feng leaned over in his dragon chair. He held his head with both hands as if it was too heavy, shifting the weight from one elbow to another.
Tung Chih stopped. He fixed his eyes on the pink peony. He smiled, and his hand traveled from his mouth to the flower.
I closed my eyes. I heard Emperor Hsien Feng sigh.
Disappointment? Bitterness?
Tung Chih had turned away from the flower when I reopened my eyes.
Was he remembering the moment I punished him when he picked up the flower? I had spanked him, crying myself. I had put my fingerprints on his little behind and hated myself for it.
My son raised his tiny chin. What was he looking for? Me? Forget-ting my manners, I weaved through the crowd and stopped in front of him. I smiled and used my eyes to draw a line from his nose to the Imperial seal.
The little one acted. In one determined motion, he grabbed the seal.
“Congratulations, Your Majesty!” the crowd cheered.
Crying joyfully, An-te-hai ran to the courtyard.
Rockets shot into the sky. A hundred thousand paper flowers popped open in the air.
Emperor Hsien Feng jumped up from his seat and announced, “According to the historical record, since the beginning of the Ch’ing Dynasty in 1644, only two princes grabbed the Imperial seal. They turned out to be China’s most successful emperors, Kang Hsi and Chien Lung. My son, Tung Chih, is likely to be the next one!”
The day after the ceremony, I knelt before a temple altar. Although I was exhausted, I felt that I must not neglect the gods who had helped me. I made offerings to show my gratitude. An-te-hai brought in a live fish on a golden plate. It had been caught in the lake and was tied with a red ribbon. In a rush I poured wine on the cobblestones because the fish had to be returned to the lake alive.
An-te-hai carefully placed the plate with the fish into a palanquin as if it were a person. At the lake I let go of the fish, and it leaped into the water.
To secure my son’s future and increase blessings from all of the gods, An-te-hai bought ten cages of precious birds for me to release. I granted the birds mercy on Tung Chih’s behalf.
Good news greeted me upon my return to the palace. Rong and Prince Ch’un were engaged. My mother was thrilled.
According to Emperor Hsien Feng, his brother had little talent or ambition. In his own introduction to Rong, Prince Ch’un had described himself as a “worshiper of Confucius’s teachings,” meaning that he pursued the life of a free mind. While he enjoyed the benefits that came with his royal position, he believed that “too much water makes a cup spill,” and “too many ornaments make a headdress look cheap.”
None of us realized that Prince Ch’un’s rhetoric was an umbrella covering flaws in his character. I would soon discover that Ch’un’s “modesty” and “self-imposed spiritual exile” came from his laziness.
I again warned Rong to expect no fantasy from an Imperial marriage. “Look at me,” I said. “His Majesty’s health has declined to