Empress Orchid - Anchee Min [44]
I tried to block my mind from traveling further. I didn’t want to ruin the moment by picturing my future. But I knew that I envied the pair of moths and the turtles. My youth told me that I couldn’t extinguish my desire, just as I couldn’t force the sun not to shine or the wind not to blow.
Afternoon came. A rickety cart dragged by a donkey appeared in my view. It was a rusty water cart. An old man with a whip walked behind it. There was a little yellow flag on top of the giant wooden cask. The old man was coming to fill the water jars in my palace. According to An-te-hai, the water cart was over fifty years old. It had served since Emperor Chien Lung. To procure the best spring water, the Emperor had ordered experts to come to Peking to study and compare the quality of water samples gathered from springs across the country. The Emperor had personally conducted the measuring and weighing of the water, and he had analyzed the mineral content of each sample.
The water from Jade Mountain Spring was given the highest rating. From then on, the spring was set aside for the exclusive use of residents of the Forbidden City. The gates of Peking closed by ten at night, and nothing was allowed to pass through except the water cart with the little yellow flag. The donkey traveled in the center of the boulevard. It was said that even a prince on a horse had to make way for the donkey.
I watched the water man finish his task and then disappear behind the gate. I listened to the fading sound of the donkey’s steps. I felt sucked back into the darkness. Misery settled in like wetness from the rainy season.
The next time I opened the silkworm box, I found the moths gone. In their place were hundreds of brownish dots all over the straw.
“The babies! The moths’ babies!” I cried like a crazy woman.
Another week passed and there was no news. No one visited me either. The silence around my palace grew enormous. When Snow came to my arms I was moved to tears. As the day went on, I fed the cat, bathed and played with her until I was bored. I read books and copied more poems from ancient times. I began to paint too. The paintings reflected my mood. They were always of a single tree in the landscape, or one blossom in a vast field of snow.
Finally, on the fifty-eighth day after my arrival in the Forbidden City, Emperor Hsien Feng summoned me. I could hardly believe my ears when An-te-hai brought me His Majesty’s invitation, asking me to join him at an opera.
I studied the invitation. Hsien Feng’s signature and stamp were grand and beautiful. I kept the card under my pillow and touched it over and over before I went to sleep. The next morning I got up before dawn. I sat through the makeup and dressing ritual feeling alive and excited. I imagined myself being appreciated by His Majesty. By sunrise everything was set. I prayed that my beauty would bring me luck.
An-te-hai told me that Emperor Hsien Feng would send a palanquin. I waited, burning with anxiety. An-te-hai described where I would be going and whom I would be meeting. He pointed out that theatrical performances had been a favorite royal pastime for generations. They had been most popular during the early Ch’ing Dynasty, in the 1600s. Grand stages were built in royal villas. In the Summer Palace alone, where I would be going today, there were four stages. The grandest one was three stories high. It was called the Grand Changyi Magnificent-Sound Stage.
According to An-te-hai, performances were held each Lunar New Year’s Day and on the birthdays of the Emperor and Empress. The performances were never less than extravaganzas, usually lasting from early morning till late into the night. The Emperor invited princes and high officials, and it was considered a great honor to be asked. On the eightieth birthday of Emperor Chien Lung, ten operas were performed. The most popular performance was The Monkey King. The character of Monkey had been adapted from a classic