Empress Orchid - Anchee Min [28]
Big Sister Fann used to say that in real life, marriage was a market in which women competed for the highest bidder. And like any business, no one should confuse a rabbit with a squirrel—your worth says who you are.
The day my father died, I learned to separate wishful thinking from reality when his former friends turned up to reclaim a debt. I also learned something from my uncle by the way he treated us. Mother once told me that one had to lower one’s head when passing under low eaves in order to avoid injury. “Wishful thinking does not give me dignity,” Big Sister Fann used to say. “There is not one mother in the world who is happy to sell her child, but she sells her.”
My uncle and Cousin Ping came to see me, and they had to get down on their knees. When Uncle bowed and called me Your Majesty, Ping laughed. “Father, that’s Orchid!” The head eunuch slapped his face before Ping finished the phrase.
It was too late for Uncle to mend our relationship. He was nice only because he wanted to benefit from my status. He forgot too quickly what he had done. It was unfortunate, because I would have loved to help him.
Rong came to me as soon as Uncle and Ping stepped out. After rambling for a long time, she came to the point. “If you see any possibility, Orchid, I would like to marry a prince or a minister of the court.” I promised that I would keep my eyes open for her. She held me and wept. My parting was harder on her than on me.
June 26, 1852, had been announced as the wedding day of His Majesty Emperor Hsien Feng. The night before, Kuei Hsiang had taken a walk through the streets of Peking and was excited by what he saw.
“There are celebrations everywhere,” my brother reported. “Every family has hung a large ceremonial lantern in front of its door. Fireworks are being shot from the rooftops. People are dressed in bright red and green. The main boulevards are decorated with lanterns for miles and miles. All the couplets hanging in the air read, ‘We wish the Imperial union to be an everlasting one!’”
The Forbidden City started its celebration at dawn. Gate-to-gate red carpets were laid for receiving the brides and guests. From the Gate of Zenith to the Palace of Supreme Harmony, from the Palace of Heavenly Purity to the Palace of Universal Plenty, there were hundreds of thousands of red silk lanterns. The lanterns were decorated with the images of stars and battle axes. Also hung were umbrellas made of apricot-colored satin embroidered with lotus flowers. Columns and beams were draped with red silk embroidered with the character shee, happiness.
This morning tables were set in the cavernous Hall of Celestial Purity, where the Record Book of Imperial Marriages was placed. Two Imperial orchestras set up outside the hall—one to the east and the other to the west. Ceremonial flags filled the hall. From the Gate of Eternal Harmony to the Gate of Zenith, about a three-mile distance, twenty-eight palanquins waited, ready to fetch the brides from their homes.
The palanquin that was to carry me was the largest I’d ever seen. There were windows on three sides, covered with red cloth embroidered with a shee. The roof over the chair was laced with golden threads. On top of the roof were two small stage-like platforms. On one stood two golden peacocks, each holding in its beak a red brush—the symbol of the highest authority, intelligence and virtue. On the second stood four gold phoenixes—symbols of beauty and femininity. In the center of the roof was the Ball of Harmony—the symbol of unity and infinity. I was to be accompanied by one hundred eunuchs, eighty court ladies and two thousand guards of honor.
I woke before dawn and was surprised to see my room full of people. My mother was kneeling in front of me. Behind her were eight women.