Empress Orchid - Anchee Min [175]
“What tools did you use?”
“A compass, Your Majesty.”
“What is unique about this place?”
“Well, according to my calculations and those of others, including the court astrologers, this is where the breath of the earth has traveled. The center point gathers the vitality of the universe. It is supposed to be the proper spot to dig the Golden Well. Right here in the middle—”
“What is to accompany His Majesty?” Nuharoo interrupted.
“Besides His Majesty’s favorite gold and silver sutras, books and manuscripts, there are luminary lanterns.” The architect pointed at two giant jars standing on either side of the bed.
“What’s inside?” I asked.
“Plant oil with cotton thread.”
“Will it light?” Nuharoo took a closer look at the jars.
“Of course.”
“I mean, for how long?”
“Forever, Your Majesty.”
“Forever?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“It is damp in here,” I said. “Will water seep in and flood the space?”
“Wouldn’t that be awful!” Nuharoo said.
“I have designed a drainage system.” The architect showed us that the bed was slightly off level, which made the head a little higher than the foot. “Water will drip into the chiseled canal underneath and flow outside.”
“What about security?” I asked.
“There are three large stone doors, Your Majesty. Each door has two marble panels and is framed with copper. As you can see here, underneath the door, where the two panels come together, there is a chiseled half-watermelon-shaped pit. Facing the pit, about three feet away, I have placed a stone ball. A track for the ball to travel has been dug. When the burial ceremony is completed, a long-handled hook will be inserted in a slit and it will pull the stone ball toward the pit. When the ball falls into the pit, the door will shut permanently.”
We rewarded the chief architect a scroll with calligraphy by Emperor Hsien Feng, and the man retreated. Nuharoo was impatient to leave. She didn’t want to honor the architect with the dinner we had promised. I convinced her that it was important to keep our word. “If we make him feel good, he will in turn make sure Hsien Feng rests in peace,” I said. “Besides, we have to come here again on the burial day, and our bodies will be buried here when we die.”
“No! I’ll never come here again!” Nuharoo cried. “I can’t bear the sight of my own coffin.”
I took her hand in mine. “I can’t either.”
“Then let’s go.”
“Just stay for dinner and no more, my dear sister.”
“Why do you have to force me, Yehonala?”
“We need to gain the architect’s full loyalty. We need to help him drive out his fear.”
“Fear? What fear?”
“In the past, the architect of an Imperial tomb was often shut in with the coffin. The royal family considered him of no further use after he had finished his job. The living Emperor and Empress feared that the man might be bribed by tomb robbers. Our architect may fear for his life, so we should make him feel trusted and secure. We must let him know that he will be honored and not harmed. If we don’t, he might dig a secret tunnel to quell his fear.”
Reluctantly Nuharoo stayed, and the architect was pleased.
When Nuharoo and I returned to Peking, Prince Kung suggested that we announce the new government immediately. I didn’t think we were ready. The beheading of Su Shun had aroused sympathy in certain quarters. The fact that we had received fewer letters of congratulation than expected concerned me.
People needed time to develop confidence in us. I told Prince Kung that our rule should be the desire of the majority. We had to achieve at least the appearance of it in order to make us morally legitimate.
Although Prince Kung was impatient, he agreed to test the political waters one last time. We took a summary of a proposal written by General Sheng Pao to the governors of all the provinces which suggested a “three-legged stool,” with Nuharoo and me as coregents and Prince Kung as the Emperor’s chief advisor in administration and government.
Prince Kung suggested that we