Empress Orchid - Anchee Min [116]
“What do these Taipings want?” Nuharoo blinked her eyes.
“To bring down our dynasty.”
“It is unthinkable!”
“As unthinkable as the treaties the foreigners have forced on us.”
Nuharoo’s expression reminded me of a child who had discovered a rat in her candy box.
“Free trade plus Christianity is how the foreigners would ‘civilize’ us.”
“What an insult!” Nuharoo sneered.
“I couldn’t agree more. The foreigners say they are here to save the souls of the Chinese.”
“But their behavior speaks for itself!”
“Very true. The British have sold nine million pounds’ worth of goods in China this year alone, of which six million was opium.”
“Don’t tell me that our court is doing nothing, Lady Yehonala.”
“Well, as Prince Kung said, China is prostrate and has no choice but to do what it is told.”
Nuharoo covered her ears. “Stop it! There is nothing I can do about this.” She grabbed my hands. “Leave these matters to men, please!”
Yung Lu, the commander in chief of the Imperial Guards, was summoned by Nuharoo. She believed that as long as she had someone guarding the gates of the Forbidden City, she was safe. I couldn’t argue with her. A few days earlier Nuharoo had conducted the wedding ceremony of Rong and Prince Ch’un. It was a lengthy event that wore me out. But Nuharoo was full of energy and spirit. During the proceedings, she changed dresses thirteen times, more than the bride.
I followed Nuharoo to a quiet chamber in the west wing where Yung Lu had been waiting. As we entered, I saw a man of strong physique rise from a chair.
“Yung Lu at Your Majesties’ service.” The man’s manner was humble and his voice firm. He got down on his knees and bowed deeply. He completed the ritual by performing the traditional kowtows, his head knocking on the ground.
“Rise,” Nuharoo said, and gestured for the eunuchs to bring tea.
Yung Lu was in his late twenties and had a pair of scorching eyes and weather-beaten skin. He had sword-like eyebrows and the nose of a bull. His jaw was large and square, and his mouth was the shape of an ingot. His broad shoulders and the way he stood reminded me of an ancient warlord.
Nuharoo began to chat of small things. She commented on the weather, while he asked about His Majesty’s health. When questioned about the Taipings, Yung Lu answered with patience and precision.
I found myself impressed by his manner, which was reserved and honest. I studied his clothes. He was in a three-piece cavalry brigade uniform, a skirt covered by a sleeveless court gown. Held together by toggles and loops, it was padded and encrusted with copper studs. The plain weave indicated his rank.
“May I look at your crossbow?” I asked.
Yung Lu took it off his belt and passed it to Nuharoo, who then held it out to me.
I examined the quiver, which was made of satin, leather, swan’s-down, silver and sapphires, with vulture feathers on the arrows. “And your sword?”
He passed the blade to me.
It was heavy. As I ran my fingertip along the edge, I felt him watching me. My cheeks ran hot. I was ashamed of the way I was paying attention to a man, although I couldn’t name the nature of my sudden interest.
An-te-hai had informed me that Yung Lu had emerged on the political stage of China by his own merits.
I had to restrain my urge to ask Yung Lu questions. I had to be careful what I said, although I intended to impress him.
I wondered if Yung Lu had any idea how rare it was for someone like Nuharoo or me to have this encounter. How precious it was to be able to spend time with someone who lived his life outside the Forbidden City.
“The inner palace is so isolated that we often feel that we exist only as names to the country”—my voice spoke my thoughts involuntarily. I glanced at Nuharoo, who smiled and nodded. Relieved, I went on. “The elaborate