Empress Orchid - Anchee Min [157]
I was aware that Su Shun was observing me, so I not only made myself look unmoved, but also said in a cold voice, “The eunuch deserved it.”
Water was poured over An-te-hai’s face and he came to. In front of the court, Nuharoo and I ordered An-te-hai to be thrown into the Imperial prison in Peking.
Su Shun didn’t want to let An-te-hai out of his sight, but Nuharoo and I insisted that we must rid ourselves of the ungrateful creature. When Su Shun protested, we argued that we had the right to punish our own house eunuch without restriction. We went to the back of the hall, to Hsien Feng’s coffin, and wept loudly.
Pressed by the senior clansmen to leave us alone, Su Shun relented. But he insisted that his men escort An-te-hai to Peking.
We agreed, and An-te-hai was on his way. Hidden between layers of An-te-hai’s shoes was the decree I had written.
In Peking, Su Shun’s men turned An-te-hai over to the minister of Imperial justice, Pao Yun, along with Su Shun’s secret message—I learned of this later—that An-te-hai be beaten to death. Unaware of the situation, Pao Yun prepared to carry out Su Shun’s order. But before the whips went to work, An-te-hai requested a private moment with the minister.
An-te-hai took out my decree from its hiding place.
Pao Yun was dumbfounded. Without delay he contacted Prince Kung.
Upon reading my decree, Prince Kung gathered his advisors. They listened to An-te-hai’s report on the situation in Jehol and discussed a course of action long into the night. The conclusion was unanimous: overthrow Su Shun.
Prince Kung understood that if he hesitated in helping Nuharoo and me, power could quickly fall into Su Shun’s hands. There would be no recovering from such a loss, since he and Prince Ch’un had been excluded from Emperor Hsien Feng’s will.
The first step Prince Kung took was to select someone to present his idea to the court in the most legal and logical way. Kung turned to the head of Imperial personnel. He asked the man to come up with a proposal suggesting that Nuharoo and I be named executive regents—the only regents—of Tung Chih, replacing Su Shun, and that we run the court with Prince Kung.
After the proposal had been completed, a trusted local official was chosen to submit it. The intent was to create the impression that the idea had come from the grassroots level, which would make it difficult for Su Shun to throw it out without a review. By using this method, the proposal would also make the rounds and be reviewed by every governor in China before it reached its final destination, Su Shun’s office.
On September 25, draped from head to toe in the white cotton of mourning, Prince Kung arrived in Jehol. He headed directly to the coffin room, where he was blocked by guards and told to wait until Su Shun arrived. When Su Shun appeared—this was reported to me later—behind him stood the rest of the Gang of Eight.
Before Prince Kung had a chance to open his mouth, Su Shun ordered his arrest. The charge was disobeying the decree.
“I am here because a new decree has summoned me,” Prince Kung calmly explained.
“Really? Present it, then.” Su Shun smiled contemptuously.
“Without our drafting it, how could there be a decree?” one of the gang said.
From his inner pocket Prince Kung took out the decree An-te-hai had delivered.
The little yellow silk scroll with both Nuharoo’s and my seals rattled Su Shun and his men. They must all have been silently asking one question: How did this get out?
Without another word, Prince Kung pushed through the gang and marched in.
At the sight of the coffin Prince Kung lost his composure. He banged his head on the ground and cried like a child. No one had seen anyone so heartbroken in front of the dead Emperor. Kung wailed that he couldn’t understand why Hsien Feng had not given him a chance to say goodbye.
Tears streamed down his cheeks. He must have wished that his brother could see the mistake he had made. Prince Kung knew what Nuharoo and I did not, that Su