Empress Orchid - Anchee Min [36]
I tried not to show that I was impressed.
He told me that Emperor Hsien Feng had two beds in his bedroom. Each night, both beds were made and the curtains drawn so no one would know in which bed His Majesty lay. An-te-hai let me know that his knowledge extended beyond the Imperial household, to the outer court and the functioning of the government. His secret for gaining information was to lead everyone to believe that he was harmless.
“So you are a natural spy.”
“For you, my lady, I’m willing to be anything.”
“How old are you exactly?”
“I’ll be sixteen in a few months.”
“What is the truth behind this proposal, An-te-hai?”
The eunuch paused for a moment and then answered, “I want a chance. I have been looking for a worthy master for a long time. As a eunuch, I understand that I ought not to think about my future, because there isn’t any. But I don’t want to live in hell for the rest of my life. All I am asking, my lady, is to be given an opportunity to prove my loyalty.”
“Rise,” I said. “Leave me now, An-te-hai.”
He rose and quietly stepped back toward the door.
I noticed that he was limping a bit, and I remembered that he was the one Chief Eunuch Shim had kicked in the courtyard.
“Wait,” I called. “From now on, An-te-hai, you’ll be my first attendant.”
I changed into a beige robe before I was ushered to my eating chair. My dining table was as big as my gate. The carvings on its surface and legs were remarkable. As I was waiting to be served, I learned the names of my eunuchs and ladies in waiting.
My eunuchs had unique names. They were Ho-tung, River of the East; Ho-nan, River of the South; Ho-tz’u, River of the West; Ho-pei, River of the North; Ho-yuan, Riverhead; and Ho-wei, River End. Although their names began with ho, which meant “river,” they were by no means related. The names of several of my ladies in waiting began with chun, meaning “spring.” They were Chun-cheng, Spring Dawn; Chun-hsia, Spring Sunset; Chun-yueh, Spring Moon; Chun-meng, Spring Dream. All of them were reasonably good-looking and clean. They answered my calls promptly and demonstrated no particular characteristics. Their hair was done in a uniform style. While the eunuchs wore queues, the ladies wore buns on the back of their heads. In my presence, they kept their hands by their thighs and their eyes fixed on the floor.
I sat at the giant table for so long, surrounded by eunuchs and ladies in waiting, that my stomach started grumbling. Dinner was still nowhere to be seen. I turned my attention to the hall. It was large and empty of warmth except for the opposite wall, where hung a painting depicting a village family. A lovely poem was written in its upper right corner.
The thatched roof is slanting low,
Beside the brook green grasses grow,
Who talks with a drunken southern voice so sweet?
A gray-haired man and wife in their retreat.
East of the brook their eldest son is hoeing weeds;
Their second son now makes a cage for hens he feeds.
I like their youngest son, who, having nothing to do,
Lies by the brook podding lotus seeds one by one.
Who had lived here before me? I wondered. She must have been one of the Imperial concubines of the late Emperor Tao Kuang. She must have loved paintings. The style was simple, refreshing. I marveled at the contrast between the grand setting and the humble image.
The painting reminded me of the warmth of my own family. I remembered when my sister, brother and I would gather at the dinner table to await our father’s arrival. I remembered a time when our father cracked a joke. When we all burst into laughter, rice sprayed out our mouths. Rong choked on her tofu soup, and my brother fell under the table and broke his ceramic bowl. My mother failed to maintain her composure. She too burst into laughter,