Empress Orchid - Anchee Min [47]
“That’s what I like about you, An-te-hai. I wish my brother Kuei Hsiang had your kind of ambition.”
“I am flattered, my lady.”
“I suppose you know my dream by now,” I said.
“A little, my lady. I dare to admit that.”
“It seems as unreachable as yours, doesn’t it?”
“Patience and faith, my lady.”
“But Emperor Hsien Feng hasn’t called me to his bed. And I am beyond pain and shame.” I didn’t bother to wipe my tears, which were streaming down my cheeks. “I have made my way into the Forbidden City, but it feels like there’s never been a greater distance between my bed and His Majesty’s. I don’t know what to do.”
“You are getting thinner each day, my lady. It hurts me to see you pushing your dinner away.”
“An-te-hai, tell me, what do you see me turning into?”
“Isn’t it a blossoming peony, my lady?”
“It was. But I am withering, and soon spring will vanish and the peony will be dead.”
“There is another way to look at it, my lady.”
“Show me.”
“Well, to me, you are no dead flower but rather a camel.”
“Camel?”
“Have you ever heard of the saying ‘A dead camel is bigger than a live horse’?”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that you still have a better chance than the smaller people.”
“But the truth is that I have nothing.”
“You have me.” On his knees, he came near. He raised his eyes and stared at me.
“You? What can you do?”
“I can find out which concubines have shared the bed with His Majesty and how they got there.”
Eight
THE FIRST THING that caught my eye at the Grand Changyi Magnificent-Sound Stage was not Emperor Hsien Feng, or his guests, or the fabulous opera sets and actors in costume. It was the diadem on Nuharoo’s head, which was made of pearls, coral and kingfisher feathers in the pattern of the character shou, longevity. I had to look away in order to keep the smile on my face.
I was ushered through a heavily guarded gate and hallway and then entered the open theater, which was in a courtyard. The seats were already filled. The audience dressed magnificently. Eunuchs and ladies in waiting walked up and down the aisles carrying teapots, cups and food trays. The opera had begun, gongs and chimes rang out, but the crowd had not quieted down. Later I would learn that it was customary for the audience to continue talking during the performance. I found this distracting, but it was the Imperial tradition.
I looked around. Emperor Hsien Feng was sitting next to Nuharoo in the center of the first row. Both he and Nuharoo were in Imperial yellow silk robes embroidered with dragon and phoenix motifs. His diadem was crowned by a large Manchurian pearl, and it had a silver inlay of trapped ribbons and tassels. His chin strap was made of sable.
Hsien Feng watched the performance with great interest. Nuharoo sat elegantly, but her attention was not on the stage. She glanced around without turning her neck. On her right side sat our mother-in-law, the Grand Empress. She was in a vermilion silk robe embroidered with blue and purple butterflies. The Grand Empress’s makeup was more dramatic than that of the actors onstage. Her eyebrows were painted so dark and thick that they looked like two pieces of charcoal. Her jaws rocked from side to side as she chewed nuts. Her painted red mouth reminded me of a spoiled persimmon. Like a broom, her eyes swept back and forth over the audience. Behind her were the Imperial daughters-in-law, Ladies Yun, Li, Mei and Hui. All gorgeously dressed, they sat stone-faced. In the back and on the sides sat the royal princes, their families and other guests.
Chief Eunuch Shim came to greet me. I apologized for being late, even though it was not my fault—the palanquin had failed to arrive on time. He told me that as long as I made it to my seat without disturbing my husband and mother-in-law, I would be all right. “His Majesty never truly demands his concubines’ presence,” Shim said. It made me realize with crushing disappointment that I was only there